How to Save a Life

Despite best intentions, it was mid morning before the group of friends roused themselves. After a quick breakfast, Neville and Blaise bid farewell to the others and departed for their respective homes.

Harry, Draco and Pansy headed out of the Leaky Cauldron’s front door and into muggle London. Draco was wide eyed, like a small child on Christmas morning, as he took in the sights of a world previously unknown to him. Pansy was not far behind in her wonderment, although she seemed to manage to hide it better. Even to Harry, who had been raised muggle; London was always something of an eye opener.

Negotiating the Underground proved to be their first test, and it was some time before they managed it and reached their destination – the shops of Oxford Street. Harry worried that the confusion would produce one of the tantrums that Draco was famed for, but the blonde seemed to find it all part of the charm.

All three of them had changed some Galleons into Pounds to enable their shopping, and Harry had been slightly alarmed at the amount of cash that Draco was currently carrying around in his pocket. That was until the blonde assured him that his wallet was charmed so that only he could remove it.

After an hour or so of very productive shopping, Draco was seized with a sudden desire to see ‘the sights’. He cajoled Harry into taking them on a bus tour around the city, and horrified his friends by insisting on sitting on the open top deck. To Harry’s alarm, he then proceeded to cast a warming charm over them to keep the winter chill at bay.

He eschewed the official tour commentary in favour of badgering Harry with incessant questions about the places they saw. Harry did his best to remember his primary school history lessons and the one school trip he had been allowed to attend, but Draco’s thirst for information proved unquenchable and finally his boyfriend was forced to admit defeat. He placated the blonde with a promise to buy him a guide book at the very next stop.

They made a brief stop in Trafalgar Square, where Draco was moved to comment that the Christmas tree was rather like the one in the entrance hall at the Manor. Harry was faintly alarmed by this and was greatly relieved when Pansy reassured him that his boyfriend was exaggerating grossly. They then watched in amusement as Draco happily fed the ever present Pigeons, until one brave feathered creature left a small ‘present’ on the blonde’s sleeve. That was the end of that particular activity, and nearly the end of that particular bird.

The Houses of Parliament impressed Draco to no end. That was what a government building should look like, he stated firmly, drawing unfavourable comparisons with their own Ministry building. He enthused about the imposing architecture to such an extent that Pansy threatened to remove him bodily from the moving bus if he didn’t stop.

They then went on to Buckingham Palace, which Harry remembered as having been his favourite sight as a child. The scale and grandeur of the building had amazed the small boy, so used to the confines of his cupboard. He was surprised then, when Draco remained unimpressed. The blonde sniffed and mumbled something about “It’s ok, I suppose.” Confused, Harry had turned to Pansy, who in turn explained that Draco was merely sulking because it was bigger than his own home.

Their last stop of the day, much to Harry’s relief, was a trip to Harrods. Harry had never been there himself, but his Aunt Petunia had always come back from her jaunts to the city talking in awed tones about the store. Best that Harry could figure, was that if Draco had been a muggle, this was the kind of shop he would frequent.

It proved to be an immensely popular choice. At the sight of so much luxury under one roof, Draco’s eyes had bugged in anticipation. He had shooed Harry and Pansy away, claiming they would slow him down, and dismissed his boyfriend’s protests about his lack of experience with muggle retailing.

When they met up again an hour later, Harry was amused by the sight of the blonde, laden down with bags, an almost fanatical gleam in his eye. Only Pansy reminding him that his mother was expecting them for dinner curtailed his spending spree.

At this reminder of their ultimate destination, the familiar knot of anxiety formed in Harry’s stomach.

They made their way back across London, this time in a black taxi – at Draco’s insistence. It was starting to get dark and all three of them sat gazing out of the windows, marvelling at the Christmas lights that were twinkling brightly against the dusky sky.

Once safely back within the familiar surroundings of the Leaky Cauldron, Draco shrunk their purchases and stowed them safely in his pocket. He then took hold of Harry’s arm and nodded to Pansy, before side-along Apparating his boyfriend without a further word.

They appeared just outside a pair of stately wrought iron gates. The large ornate ‘M’ at the centre gave away their location, had they not already known it.

“Bloody hell, Draco!” Harry protested as he stumbled to hold his footing. “You might want to give me a bit of warning next time you do that.”

“Pfft. You would have just complained even more. I know how much you hate Apparating.”

Harry huffed and turned his attention, warily, towards the gate. “How come we’re here? I half expected you to take me straight into your bedroom.”

“Eager much, Harry?” Draco smirked. “We can’t Apparate inside the grounds. Well, rather, you can’t. The wards are only set to allow family members, oh and Pansy, of course. I’ll speak to Mother about adjusting them for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Harry protested. “Your mum probably won’t want to.”

“Of course she will. Don’t be so silly. You’re as much a part of my family now as Pansy is.” He grabbed hold of Harry’s shoulders and tugged the smaller boy in for a brief, hard kiss.

“I know I don’t have to,” he murmured against Harry’s lips. “I want to.”

Before anymore could be said, there was a loud crack and Pansy appeared.

“Did you get lost, Parkinson?” Draco enquired coolly.

“Not at all, Drakie. I simply thought I would give you two lovebirds a moment alone first.”

“What on earth for?”

Pansy only arched her eyebrows and stared pointedly at where Draco’s hands still clutched Harry to him. Draco scowled at Pansy, who simply grinned in return, completely unfazed.

The blonde let his arms fall from his boyfriend’s side and removed hi s wand from up his sleeve. Harry started for a moment, thinking he was about to hex Pansy. He was relieved to see that the blonde had turned his attention to the formal gateway. Wand pressed against the ornate ‘M’, he muttered some words that Harry didn’t quite catch, and then held out his hand.

“Come on.”

Harry clasped his hand and followed. He was surprised to note that instead of the gates opening to allow them entry, they simply shimmered and allowed the three of them to walk straight through.

The gravel drive crunched underfoot as they made their way towards the stately manor house. Flaming torches were burning at intervals, lighting their way.

As he retraced the steps he had once taken under much more unpleasant circumstances, Harry was relieved to find that it all seemed blessedly unfamiliar. But, as he recalled, at the time his eyes had been almost swollen shut from Hermione’s stinging hex, so it wasn’t too surprising.

As a result, he found his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sheer scale of Draco’s ancestral home.

As the driveway widened in front of the house, an ornate fountain bubbled away merrily. The light twinkled through the multitude of diamond paned windows, giving off a surprisingly welcoming feel. As they drew nearer to the heavy wooden doors, they suddenly opened, the bright shaft of light almost blinding against the darkness.

Harry automatically assumed it was a servant of some sort come to greet them - a house elf maybe. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he was startled to see the graceful figure of Narcissa Malfoy framed in the doorway.

Draco dropped his hand and hurried forward to embrace her.

“Mother,” he cried. “It’s so good to be home.”

“It hasn’t been the same without you here, Dragon,” Narcissa replied, drawing her son into a warm embrace.

Harry hung back nervously as he watched first Draco, then Pansy, welcomed by the lady of the house. He couldn’t take his eyes from Narcissa’s face, at a loss to reconcile her warmth with the cold, aloof persona that he had always associated with her.

Before he could think further, Draco had hold of his hand and was tugging him forward.

“Mother, this is Harry.”

The warm smile turned in his direction and Harry couldn’t help but bask in its glow.

“Mr Potter, it’s a pleasure to welcome you to our home.”

“It’s Harry, please. And thank you for inviting me.”

“Well, Harry, we couldn’t have you spending Christmas alone. Besides,” she continued in a conspiratorial manner, “My son wouldn’t have given me a moment’s peace otherwise. He can be quite the handful, you know?”

There was a definite twinkle in her eye and Harry found he couldn’t help but respond in kind.

“Hey! I am here, you know?”

“Oh hush, Draco. It’s true and you know it.”

Draco glared at Pansy once again, but it was wasted as the girl had already turned and entered the house. As he followed, Harry couldn’t help but be impressed by the grandeur of the large entrance hall. He was no expert, but the carpets that graced the stone floor, looked extremely expensive, and the silk wall coverings only added to the sumptuous appearance.

It was a large space, dominated by an imposing staircase to the centre, that rose proudly and then split off towards the various wings of the house. Next to it stood a large stately Christmas tree that was dressed in Slytherin hues of green and silver, much to Harry’s amusement. Though he had to admit that Draco hadn’t been that far off with his comparison to the one adorning Trafalgar Square.

A crack startled him out of his reverie. He turned and saw Narcissa addressing a wide eyed house elf.

“Tilly, please take Master Draco’s and his friend's belongings up to their rooms and have them unpacked.”

The elf squeaked in, what Harry assumed was agreement and then it waited patiently while they produced their shrunken trunks and various items of shopping.

“Harry, perhaps you would like to go through to the sitting room? I believe there is someone in there that is eager for your arrival. Pansy will show you the way, won’t you dear?”

“Of course,” Pansy nodded in agreement.

“I’ll send one of the elves in with some refreshments. I’m sure you’ve had a very tiring day. Draco and shops always were an exhausting combination.” She paused here and her laughter tinkled softly at the outraged look on her son’s face.

“You’ll forgive me if I steal Draco away from you for a short while. It has been some months and we have much to catch up on.”

Harry blushed a little at this, fairly certain that his relationship with the blonde would be the hot topic of that particular conversation.

Leading her son into the drawing room, Narcissa settled herself in her favourite chair and looked at Draco expectantly.

For his part, Draco was too nervous to sit. He wasn’t entirely sure why. He knew his mother was aware of his relationship with Harry, yet he couldn’t entirely suppress the butterflies that filled his tummy as he turned to face those calm blue eyes.

“You look well, Mother,” he began, stalling for time.

“Thank you, darling, as do you. You have certainly changed from the dour young man that left here in August. Something, or should I say, someone obviously agrees with you.”

Choosing to ignore that rather obvious lead in to the subject, Draco chose instead to choose another topic.

“How is Father?”

Allowing herself to be sidetracked for the moment, Narcissa’s smile faded a little.

“He is as well as can be expected in that grim place. His health is much improved though. Oh, that reminds me. We have been given permission to visit him on the 23rd; they are even allowing us to take him a Christmas gift. Providing it is off their pre-approved list, of course.”

Draco couldn’t hide his pleasure at this news; it had been some time since he had last seen his father. “That’s wonderful Mother.” Then his smile faded perceptibly.

“What is it, Draco? It isn’t so bad there now, not now the Dementors have gone.”

Draco shook his head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just...do you think I should tell him?”

“Tell him what?” Narcissa enquired, faintly puzzled by her son’s rapidly changing mood.

“About me and Harry,” he whispered.

“Harry and I,” Narcissa corrected, unable to help herself. “Do you want to tell him?”

Draco nodded slightly, not meeting his mother’s gaze. “Harry’s important to me and I want Father to know that. Plus, the more time he has to get used to the idea, the better.”

“If you are ready to tell him, then I think that you should. He’s your father and nothing will change how much he loves you.”

Draco raised sceptical eyes to meet his mother’s. Seeing his expression, Narcissa sighed deeply.

“Look at it this way then. Your father is a consummate politician, he cannot fail to realise the advantages to the family name of having you involved with Harry Potter. That very thing could restore it like nothing else could.”

“But that’s not what this is about Mother,” Draco protested vehemently. “I don’t care about that. If I did, I would hardly be keeping our relationship secret.”

“Control yourself. I didn’t think for a minute that that was your reason. I’m just trying to explain to you that your father will most likely see it from that angle and, as such, will raise little objection.”

“I love him,” Draco blurted out, before hanging his head as he felt the heat of embarrassment in his face.

Narcissa rose from her chair and made her way over to where Draco stood in front of the imposing marble fireplace.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Draco. Indeed I doubt you could have chosen a worthier recipient of your affections.” She paused here and reached out her hand to tip her son’s face upwards.

“And Harry? How does he feel?”

“I-I think, well, I hope that he might feel the same. We’ve never said it though.”

“I’m sure he does, Draco. I doubt very much whether he would have come here if he didn’t. It cannot be easy for him, returning here.”

Draco’s face fell at this reminder of his families involvement in Harry’s many sufferings.

“Stop that,” Narcissa admonished. “What’s past is done. If your young man can rise above such memories, then I am sure that we can also. Now, why don’t we go next door, your Aunt Andromeda is through there and is very keen to meet her nephew.”

Draco placed a warm kiss on his mother’s smooth cheek and, linking her arm through his, escorted her in the direction of the sitting room.

As they neared the door, Narcissa hesitated. When Draco turned to face his mother, he saw a mixture of nerves and apprehension in her face.

“Mother?”

“Draco, before we go in there, there is something I should tell you about your aunt. It’s nothing to be alarmed at, but I just want to prepare you.”

Draco nodded, his expression far calmer than he actually felt. His mind doing overtime coming up with various possible explanations, each more unpleasant than the last.

“It’s just that, when you first see her...she looks a lot like-”

“Bellatrix,” Draco finished for her, a faint shudder running through him at the thought of his dead aunt, but also feeling relief that it was nothing more serious.

“You know? How is that possible? You’ve never met her and it isn’t like I had pictures of her round the house when you were growing up.”

“Harry has pictures of her,” Draco explained. “It’s ok, Mother. I know that she is nothing like...her.” He fairly spat out the last word. Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but a quick look at the tension on her son’s face made her think better of it.

As the door opened, grey eyes scanned quickly round the room. As they settled on the newcomer, Draco headed towards her, determined to get it over with as soon as possible.

The dark haired lady, sat next to Pansy on the sofa, stood up at his approach. As he raised his eyes to meet her steady gaze, Draco couldn’t help but falter slightly before regaining his composure quickly. Not quickly enough that Harry didn’t notice how his face blanched at the sight of his aunt. Then, Andromeda smiled and her face lit up with a warmth that had been completely absent in his other aunt’s cold features, and Draco wondered how he could have ever confused them.

“Draco, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Draco assumed that this must have come from his mother, but the twinkle in his aunt’s eyes, and the brief glance she shot at Harry, told him that her information had come from a completely different source.

“Been telling tales on me, Harry,” he teased.

“It was all good, I assure you,” his aunt hastened to explain, while Harry only smiled up at his boyfriend from his seat on the floor, a chuckling baby settled in his lap.

Despite having seen pictures of Teddy Lupin, the shock of bright blue hair currently adorning the baby’s head, still came as something of a surprise.

Spying this new person for the first time, Teddy crawled off of Harry’s lap and rapidly made his way over the floor to where Draco stood. Startling the blonde with the speed at which he could move on all fours.

Teddy’s pudgy fists grabbed at expensively tailored trousers, and Harry winced in anticipation of Draco’s reaction. His fears proved unfounded, as Draco bent down and scooped the chuckling baby up in his arms. To the amusement of all, not only did Teddy look completely at home in Draco’s arms, but before their eyes, his blue hair had lengthened and faded to a pale blonde.

“You’ve certainly got a fan there, Draco,” his aunt said. “Teddy only does that for his favourite people.”

“They do say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” Narcissa added.

The blonde’s eyes widened at this and he gazed down at the child in his arms. Draco had little to no experience with babies and was surprised at how relaxed he felt with Teddy’s warm body cuddled up to him. The baby was currently gurgling happily and blowing spit bubbles from his rosy lips, something Draco thought should have repulsed him, but didn’t. He grinned at the sight and was rewarded with a wide toothless smile in return.

“When you’re quite finished charming everyone, it’s time for your bath, young man.”

Teddy looked up at the sound of his grandmother’s voice, and Draco could have sworn that his baby lips pouted slightly. Andromeda held out her hands and Teddy tumbled into them without further protest.

After receiving goodnight kisses from Narcissa, Pansy, and Harry, Teddy turned to Draco expectantly. The blonde found himself pressing a gentle kiss against surprisingly soft cheeks.

“You’re just a big softy at heart, aren’t you, Dray?” Harry teased.

Narcissa stepped forward and spoke softly before her son had time to retort.

“Why don’t you three go on up and dress for dinner. The elves should have finished unpacking your trunks by now. Draco, I’ve put Harry in the guest room across from yours. Pansy, dear, you know which room is yours.”

“Ok, Mother. Come on you two.” Draco turned and led the way from the room, waiting till the door had closed behind them before taking Harry’s hand and squeezing gently.

“Draco, when your mum said ‘dress for dinner’, what did she mean?”

“What? They don’t wear clothes to eat in over at the Weasel’s house?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Seeing the agitation on his boyfriends face, Draco relented. “She meant, dress up for dinner. We always have a formal dinner on my first night home. It’s sort of a tradition.”

Then, seeing the unease on Harry’s face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s only the first night. It’ll be much more relaxed after tonight.”

Harry still looked concerned. “But I don’t have any formal clothes. I left my dress robes back at school.”

Draco grinned. “Actually, you have brought them with you, you just didn’t realise it. I had Longbottom pack them in your trunk without you knowing.”

“Why do that?” Harry was confused by the seemingly unnecessary subterfuge. “Why not just tell me to pack them?”

“Because,” Draco began, in a tone that said he thought the answer should be plainly obvious, “you would have freaked out at the thought. At least this way, you only have half an hour to worry, instead of days.”

“Git,” Harry muttered.

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make it any less true.”

They paused outside a dark wooden door and Draco reached out for the knob. Turning it and swinging the door open with a flourish; he placed his hand in the small of Harry’s back and gave him a gentle shove.

“All your stuff should be in the wardrobe ready for you. I’ve had Tilly press your robes, just in case. I’ll be back for you in half an hour, don’t be late.” Grey eyes travelled up to Harry’s head, “And do something with your hair, for Merlin’s sake.”

Harry ran his fingers through the bird’s nest that was currently masquerading as his hair. “You know you love it really,” he teased.

Draco reached out and gently brushed a stray lock off Harry’s face. “I do,” he admitted. “But somehow I doubt that my mother will be similarly enamoured.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Harry and Draco entered the dining room later that evening, it was to find the ladies of the house sat, waiting for them.

“Nice of you to join us, boys.”

Harry turned guiltily to face Narcissa, words of apology ready on his lips. But before he could get the words out, Pansy spoke up.

“Hope we didn’t drag you away from anything too...urgent,” she smirked knowingly, her gaze flitting meaningfully to rest on Harry’s dishevelled hair, that had been quite neat up until Draco had ravished him on the stairs.

Draco only smiled lazily at this, while Harry, who had never been so good at hiding his emotions, flushed darkly. His embarrassment was not helped any when Draco led him to his seat and insisted on pulling out the chair for him. It was the sort of chivalrous behaviour that usually left Harry with a warm fuzzy feeling. But here, in Draco’s home, under the gaze of his mother, it only served to make Harry’s embarrassment more acute.

“My apologies for our lateness, Mother.” Draco slid into the seat next to Harry and discreetly placed his hand on his boyfriend’s leg.

“Not a problem, darling,” Narcissa replied smoothly. “Harry, I trust you found your room to your satisfaction?”

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Harry smiled weakly at his hostess.

Draco squeezed his leg gently. “Relax, Harry,” he murmured.

Which was easier said than done, Harry thought. Especially when he noticed the sheer volume of cutlery and glassware that currently occupied the table. How on earth he was ever going to make it through dinner without disgracing himself, he didn’t know.

Draco sensed his tension and, seeing that the women were now occupied with their own conversation, he leant over.

“What’s wrong?” his voice was full of concern.

“It’s all this.” Harry indicated his place setting with a wave of his hand. “I don’t have a clue where to start.”

“Oh, that’s all,” Draco was relieved that it wasn’t something more serious.

“It may seem nothing to you, Draco,” Harry retorted hotly. “But we didn’t all grow up eating like this.” He paused for a moment and chewed nervously on his lip. “I just want to make a good impression. I don’t want your mum to think you are going out with a complete peasant.”

The earnest expression on his boyfriends face and the honesty of his confession caused a tightening in Draco’s chest. “Keep talking like that and you’re going to get very lucky tonight.”

And Harry grinned despite himself.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Draco reassured him, referring back to the original subject. “Just follow what I do and you’ll be fine.”

Harry looked like he was about to dispute this, but the conversation was ended by the arrival of several house elves, and their starter was served.

Harry remained virtually silent throughout the first course. All of his attention focussed on his valiant attempt to consume his soup without any of it ending up on his robes, or on the very expensive looking table cloth. Not that he was a particularly messy eater, but he figured it would be just his luck for some to slop down him in front of Narcissa.

He relaxed a little during the main course, and allowed himself to pay attention to the conversation going on around him. Draco was excitedly regaling his mother with stories of muggle London. Narcissa listened politely, though Harry suspected she was not overly tempted to stray from the Wizarding world. Only at the mention of their visit to Harrods did real interest show in her face, and Harry reflected that when it came to retail therapy, Draco was very much his mother’s son.

As the meal progressed, Harry started to understand where his boyfriend’s obsession with table manners stemmed from. Somehow, the elegant setting of this dining room didn’t allow for even the slightest failing in table etiquette. Harry grinned to himself at the thought of Ron and tried to imagine him dining there, bolting his food, elbows on the table, and his food visible to all as he talked. Not that Harry was particularly offended by the thought of it, just that he now understood why Draco would be.

The appearance of the elves to clear the main course away caused another small smile to cross Harry’s face. As amusing as it was to imagine Ron, it would be infinitely more entertaining to see Hermione’s outraged reaction at being waited on by numerous enslaved house elves. The thought of his friend pinning a S.P.E.W badge to Narcissa’s elegant robes had him biting his lip to keep from laughing.

Then desert was served and Harry thought of very little else, other than the large slice of treacle tart that now lay in front of him. He looked up briefly and caught Narcissa smiling back at him.

“I seem to remember reading in Witch Weekly that this was your favourite.”

“It’s delicious, thank you.” And as the first bite practically melted in his mouth, Harry truly meant it.

Once dinner was over, Narcissa excused herself and Andromeda as they retired to the drawing room for coffee. She waved the three teenagers off, bidding them, “Keep yourselves occupied till bed time, and don’t be late.”

There was a gleam in Draco’s eyes at this, and judging by the way his hand slid up Harry’s thigh, he obviously had some strong ideas on just how they could keep themselves amused.

The three friends headed back upstairs in the direction of Draco’s room. When they entered, Harry was surprised to note, not just the scale of the room, but that instead of the Slytherin green he had expected, Draco’s room was largely decorated in midnight blue with accents of silver.

The blond tugged the hangings back on his four poster bed and sank down onto the mattress, indicating to his friends to follow suit. Harry perched at the head of the bed, leaning back on the numerous pillows. He felt something digging in his back and reached behind him to locate the source of his discomfort.

As his fingers closed round something soft and plush, a smile crossed his face as he realised just what it might be. Pulling the item out from under the bed clothes, he found himself clutching a well worn, and obviously much loved, stuffed lion.

He turned to Draco with amusement in his eyes.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, Dray?” He asked, unable to help himself.

Draco only scowled and muttered something about “bloody elves.”

“Harry, meet Rory. Rory is Draco’s oldest and dearest friend. Not that wild Hippogriffs would drag that confession out of him.”

Harry couldn’t help it, he had to giggle. The thought of Draco cuddling up to a stuffed animal was cute enough, but that said animal could pass easily for the Gryffindor Lion, was just...well, words failed him.

“Draco picked him out when he was four. Lucius was mortified and tried to tempt him with various stuffed snakes and even dragons, but little Draco only had eyes for his Gryffindor Lion. Sounds a lot like now, come to think of it.” Pansy had wisely moved out of striking distance from Draco whilst speaking and she was now grinning at her friend from relative safety.

“Is it Rory because Lions roar, Draco?” Harry teased.

Draco snatched his toy from Harry’s arms and glared fiercely at his boyfriend. “Do the words ‘mind your own business’ mean anything to you two?”

Pansy and Harry shook their heads in unison, both failing to stifle their amusement.

“Well how about the words ‘fuck off’ then.” He settled Rory back down on the pillows and launched himself at Harry.

After a few moments of frantic wrestling, Harry was flat on his back with Draco straddling his waist, pinning his arms over his head.

Their eyes met and Draco leaned in, covering Harry’s mouth with his own. He let go of Harry’s arms, which promptly slid round his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Harry’s lips parted eagerly, allowing access to Draco’s tongue. He moaned into the kiss and his hands now slid to the blonde’s shoulders, sliding off his robes.

Pansy perched on the edge of the bed, transfixed by the erotic sight in front of her. Knowing that, for the moment, both boys had forgotten her presence, she was torn between wanting to watch, and the fact that Draco would likely kill her if she did. Reluctantly she got to her feet and headed to the door.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” she said. Her hand stilled on the door knob briefly at the sound of a low guttural groan escaping Harry’s lips. Then, mentally shaking herself, she turned and left the room.

Hearing the door click behind her, Harry’s eyes opened. “Pansy’s gone,” he murmured against Draco’s lips.

“Good, I’m not really that much into being watched.”

“Talking of which,” Harry smiled and pulled away briefly. Draco whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Harry,” he whined.

Harry didn’t reply for a moment, he only picked up Draco’s stuffed toy and, leaning over the side of the bed, placed him on the floor.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Harry flipped Draco over and their positions were reversed as he straddled the blonde’s hips. “I don’t think he’s old enough to see what I am about to do to you,” he smirked.

Draco’s eyes lit up with lust. “That sounds like a promise.”

Instead of words, Harry let his lips and tongue answer the question.