The Curse

Chapter Five

It had been a month and a half since Harry and Draco Malfoy had begun trying to fulfil the curse that Draco's father had placed upon him. Unfortunately for Malfoy, he had had to remain at Harry’s flat – per Madam Pomfrey’s orders – whilst Harry had been allowed to come and go as he pleased. Understandably, Malfoy had some choice words to say about that.

Pomfrey had been reluctant to talk about why she had made that decision, but Harry supposed it was because she didn’t know enough about curses – or at least this particular one, anyway. And so, unsatisfied with not knowing why Malfoy couldn’t leave (and tired of hearing Malfoy’s constant complaining), Harry had finally worked up enough nerve to ask the one person who might have the answer.

Hermione Granger.

There was another lingering question he wanted to ask her, but he knew he would be completely mortified.

Why wasn’t Malfoy pregnant yet?

And so there he was, sitting nervously across the table from her at the Three Broomsticks, fidgeting with his napkin.

Harry knew he shouldn’t be embarrassed; he was in constant contact with her, and they had talked about everything else pertaining to himself and Malfoy. One of the things he had learned was that the Wizarding world had found out about his and Malfoy's dilemma. She had said someone had leaked the information from the Ministry. As an Auror, Harry had had to give an explanation for his long absence away from his job, so he had secretly confided the reason directly to the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. From there, Harry could only guess who had obtained the ‘private’ information and had made it public. The Quibbler, naturally, had refused to reveal their ‘sources’.

Harry thought it was peculiar that Malfoy hadn't been embarrassed when the entire Wizarding world had learned of the curse. He knew he would’ve been. Perhaps Malfoy knew that Lucius would be the one crucified by everyone, and Malfoy would be seen as the victim, thus gaining sympathy from the public. It could also be that Malfoy was so used to controversy that he had grown a thick skin over the years.

Many people had tried to contact Harry in regards to the curse, but he spoke to no one apart from Hermione. They kept in constant contact through the Floo Network, with Hermione asking painfully embarrassing questions, and Harry giving vague answers. She kept him informed of the goings on outside his flat such as the reactions from his friends, the Wizarding world, and…

Ginny.

He hadn't been really surprised to learn that she was all right with the relationship with Malfoy, but he had been a little taken aback to hear that she wanted to talk about it with Harry. He wasn’t ready for that yet. It might have been a strange way of looking at it, but Harry felt like it would be like an ex-wife wanting to talk about his current girlfriend. No, he definitely wasn’t ready for that conversation.

Ron, on the other hand, had been a different matter. Harry had felt the need to make it abundantly clear to Ron that he hadn't been forced into this situation with Malfoy, and that he hadn't been blackmailed, either. That, obviously, had come from Ron’s own active imagination. It had taken Harry quite a while to convince him otherwise.

Surprisingly, no charges had been made against Lucius Malfoy. It seemed that the curse was so old and obsolete that there had never been a law created that prohibited using it. Apparently, the results of not gaining an heir were punishment enough for the caster. Harry had tried to convince Malfoy that together they would be able to create a law against it, but Malfoy was dead set in ‘leaving it alone’. Which, of course, infuriated Harry to no end.

Harry had decided to ‘leave it alone’.

For now.

Suddenly, Hermione cleared her throat. Harry's head snapped up in response, and stupidly stared at her. Obviously, she had said something.

“Sorry?”

Hermione’s lips pursed tightly in annoyance. “I asked you why you're not speaking to me. Clearly, you wanted to talk to me about something. Isn’t that why you asked me to meet you here?”

“Oh! Right. Right. Sorry. I was just thinking about...” Harry stopped and shook his head. “Never mind, I’ll explain later.” Hermione scowled. “Seriously. I’ll tell you in a moment. Right now, I have…er…questions.”

Hermione's face softened. “Of course, Harry. You can ask me anything.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief and his shoulders sagged. He really hated irritating her.

“The thing is…” Harry paused, trying to gain some courage. He didn’t know how to begin without embarrassing himself. He flinched slightly when Hermione touched his hand in comfort.

“It’s all right, Harry.”

Harry smiled softly and nodded. He took a deep breath and tried again.

“As you may have noticed, Malfoy and I … well, Malfoy hasn't left my flat since…” Harry paused and looked away, flushing slightly. Hermione squeezed his hand in assurance. He glanced back at her, and sighed before continuing. “Um, anyway, I was wondering if it had to do with the fact that Malfoy isn’t, you know...” Harry lowered his head to hide his reddened cheeks and then whispered, “…pregnant?”

Hermione sat back and looked at him thoughtfully.

“Unfortunately, all of the books that I have found on the Heir Curse really didn’t go into a lot of specific details, so I can only speculate.”

Harry’s face lit up, and he smiled at her. He had the utmost confidence in her and her ‘speculations’, and he wanted to show it in his expression alone.

It had worked. She smiled back, then continued. “Well, from the information I have been able to pull together, every documented case showed that the pregnancies from the curse transpired immediately, and it was always in the form of rape.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “But with Malfoy and me…”

“It was consensual,” she said, finishing his sentence. “Perhaps the curse has recognised this, and is now taking a different approach.”

Harry’s eyes widened a little. “A different approach?” he asked apprehensively.

“That would be my guess.”

“What kind of approach?” he asked, though he was genuinely afraid to hear the answer.

“Well,” Hermione began slowly, unintentionally drawing out the moment, and it made Harry ten times more nervous than he already was. “It could be that the curse requires you and Malfoy to be in a relationship of some sort, and wants it to happen naturally.”

“Relationship of some sort?” Harry squeaked, and he felt his face drain of all his blood. “But there is no relationship between us!”

“That’s precisely why I think it’s holding off on the pregnancy. I believe it knows that you are … together now, and that you are both in it for the duration. If it had been rape, Malfoy would most likely be going this alone.”

“Together?” Harry repeated, completely ignoring the last bit Hermione had said. “But we’re not together!”

Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“We’re not,” Harry maintained heatedly.

Hermione sighed, frustrated. “Harry, strictly speaking, you are in a relationship with Malfoy.” Harry grunted, causing Hermione to sigh again. “Like it or not, you and Malfoy will be together for a long time. You really need to try and make this work.”

Harry folded his arms, and looked away.

Hermione stared silently at Harry with a small frown, then cautiously asked, “Harry, you are planning to be a part of your child’s life, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am!” Harry snapped. “But just how are we supposed to work things out? I mean he’s impossible! You thought he was bad in school, but he’s worse than ever!”

Hermione looked at him curiously. “How so?”

“He’s just… He’s... Eurgh!” Harry exclaimed, the last word coming out as a low, guttural grunt. “You know he has to stay in my flat, right?” Hermione nodded. “All he does is complain! He criticises everything! Everything I own. Everything I wear. ‘You’re seriously not wearing that in public, are you, Potter?’” Harry drawled, imitating Malfoy’s voice perfectly. “‘Merlin, Potter, do you ever clean this sty of yours? And who on earth does your decorating?’” Harry paused a moment to catch his breath. “He’s just… he’s just…”

“Impossible?” Hermione offered with a grin.

“Yes! I just wish he would shut up once in a while!” Harry stopped again before continuing where he left off. “And he’s so demanding! ‘Potter, go to the shop and get some proper food. And while you’re at it, buy me some decent Firewhisky, and not this Muggle rubbish’.”

Hermione bit her lower lip to refrain from laughing. “Harry, it sounds like--”

“And, oh my god! He can be such an arse at times!” Harry interrupted. “I try and ask him what the bloody hell is wrong with him, but he flat out ignores me, and then changes the subject!” Harry shouted. “So you tell me how we can work things out when he won't even talk to me?”

“Well, perhaps--”

“I mean why should I try when he won't?”

“Harry, have you thought about why Malfoy is acting this way?” Hermione asked calmly.

“I told you that he won't talk to me!” he spouted angrily.

Hermione nodded. “Well, yes, that would help, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, really, Hermione, you think so?” Harry drawled. He ground his teeth in irritation, then blurted out, “And he’s worse than a girl! I mean one minute he’s all over me, and the next he’s pushing me away! Ginny was never that bad.” Harry stopped short, then turned beet red, and diverted his eyes, realising he had said more than he meant to.

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence before Harry finally turned his attention fully on Hermione. She was obviously trying her best to keep herself from laughing.

“What?” he demanded.

Hermione casually covered her mouth and shook her head. “Nothing,” she said through her hands.

“What?” Harry insisted, narrowing his eyes.

“Well,” she began carefully. “Do you know who you sound like?” Harry scowled and shook his head. “Ron. When he gets frustrated with me.”

“Of course I’m frustrated! He’s impossible! He’s …” Harry froze in mid-sentence and gaped at her. “Are you trying to say that I sound like a … a … boyfriend?” Harry said, half-yelling.

Hermione flinched, but answered him anyway. “It’s all right, Harry. Ron--”

“No, it’s not bloody all right! He is not my boyfriend!”

Hermione nodded and looked at him sheepishly. “I know. I only said that you sounded like one.”

Harry continued to glare at her before looking away, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said softly. “You know I would never do that on purpose, don’t you?”

Harry glanced at her, then sighed deeply. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly, relaxing.

“I really am sorry, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “I didn’t realise that Malfoy was that bad.”

Harry went silent to collect his thoughts, and then half-shrugged. “Well, to be completely honest, sometimes - sometimes, mind you - he’s actually pretty decent,” he confessed reluctantly. “When he’s not running his mouth off, of course,” he said with a smirk. “And I do admit that he’s fairly clever. We have had some intelligent conversations every now and then.”

Hermione grinned at that. “Well, that does sounds promising.” Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief. “Harry, about the curse. How are things going with that?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, slightly taken back.

“Well, am I to assume that you and Malfoy are still having sex?”

“Of course we’re still having sex!” Harry suddenly snapped, loud enough where the entire restaurant turned and stared at him. Harry gasped and instantly buried his face in his hands. “Oh god, oh god, oh god...”

Hermione snickered quietly.

Harry’s head shot up. “It’s not funny, Hermione,” he hissed. “I just managed to embarrass myself for life.”

Hermione’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Harry,” she said sincerely.

Harry frowned a moment and then shrugged. “I know you are. But seriously, it’s just the curse talking,” Harry stated matter-of-factly. “I mean, that’s what we’re supposed to be doing, right?”

“Yes,” she confirmed and then looked at him questioningly. “So are the urges still as strong?”

Harry’s heart instantly started beating hard in his chest, and he began twisting his napkin again. This was the topic that he had dreaded talking about. Hell, Malfoy and him had never talked about it. Harry knew it was because they didn’t have to. They both were fully aware of the fact that the urge to ‘pro-create’ wasn’t as strong as it had been. And if Harry were to be truly honest with himself, sometimes it didn’t feel like it was even there. Especially, just recently. Which, of course, could only mean one thing: they were actually enjoying having sex with one another.

Harry’s eyes darted to the furthest corner of the room to avoid eye contact with her, and he barely shook his head.

“Um, not really, no,” Harry answered quietly. He quickly glanced at her before looking away again. “D-do you think it’s the curse doing this? I mean to help us …” Harry stopped and swallowed hard. He knew his face was fiery red. “You know, work things out?”

“Hmm. It’s possible,” Hermione said thoughtfully. She leaned over and gently touched his hand. “Harry, you know I’d never judge you, right? I’m only here to help you.”

Harry gave her a small smile. “I know,” he whispered, squeezing her hand in return.

Hermione looked at him with concern in her eyes. “I know it doesn’t seem like it to you right now, but it’s not as bad as you're making it out to be.”

“Oh? And how’s that?” Harry immediately quipped, though he was glad to have changed the subject.

“Well, for starters, you haven't killed each other yet,” she said playfully.

Harry snorted.

“In any case, it sounds like Malfoy is making your life interesting.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s for sure.”

There was a brief pause before the two of them started laughing.

*******

Loud clanking noises from the kitchenette greeted Harry as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace. As he drew closer, he could hear low grumbling. Malfoy was complaining about his food – or the lack of – again. Harry silently stood in the doorway, watching Malfoy open and close the cupboard doors.

“I asked him the other day to buy me the mushroom gravy, but nooo, he didn’t listen to me, did he? Of course not. Harry fucking Potter never listens to me,” Malfoy scoffed. “I even made him a list so he’d know which foods to buy. He knows that I have a sensitive stomach. Bastard,” he muttered.

Harry leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest, smiling as Malfoy complained about him once again. Some days it was amusing, some days it wasn’t. Today it was amusing.

As he stood there listening, Harry studied Malfoy quietly, his eyes roaming up and down his body. It suddenly occurred to him that Malfoy was shirtless. It must be too hot in his flat again. Malfoy had been complaining about that lately. The temperature was never perfect enough for him. Either it was too hot or too cold.

Harry's eyes lingered on the way Malfoy's – correction his - jogging pants hung loosely on his small and narrow hips. It was definitely two sizes too big for him. Harry wondered why Malfoy wasn’t wearing the ones he had bought him. Since Malfoy couldn’t leave the flat, and Harry wasn’t about to go to Malfoy Manor, he had had to go out and buy him a new wardrobe.

Perhaps it was because Malfoy hated the ones Harry had picked out.

No, it couldn’t be that, Harry thought. Malfoy had given Harry a detailed list of everything he had wanted. In fact, Malfoy had fire-called the shop ahead of time and ordered them all himself. Either way it didn’t matter to Harry. He actually fancied the way that his clothes looked on Malfoy. Of course, he’d rather see them off. Suddenly, Harry blushed. Had he really just thought that? Harry mentally nodded.

Yes, he had.

With that thought in mind, Harry unconsciously walked across the floor, halting just behind Malfoy.

“About time, Potter. You forgot the gravy,” he growled, closing another cupboard door.

“You used it last night,” Harry replied, his voice deep and low. “On the veal.”

“I did n-” Malfoy paused. “Oh, right.” He paused again. “Well, where the hell were you?” he snapped.

Harry moved closer, pressing himself against Malfoy's back. “With Hermione,” he breathed in his ear, rubbing his hands up and down Malfoy's sides.

Malfoy’s muscles stiffened slightly, but Harry could hear him breathe heavily.

“Merlin, Potter, you’ve become randy lately,” he said.

“And you haven't?” Harry challenged.

Suddenly, Malfoy pushed Harry back with his elbows, and turned to face him. “No, I haven't, so back off,” he insisted venomously.

Harry closed the space between them. He placed his hands on either side of Malfoy, resting them on the edge of the worktop. He leaned in.

“Yes, you have,” Harry said, almost purring. “Admit it.” Their faces were inches away from one another.

Malfoy tried to push Harry away again, but Harry stood firm.

“Potter, I said: Back. Off,” Malfoy said, emphasising each word. “I’m not feeling well!”

Harry lowered his head, and grazed his lips along Malfoy's neck. “Again? Well, maybe I can help.”

Using all of his body weight, Malfoy shoved Harry hard enough to cause him to stumble backwards.

“I said no!” the blond cried.

Harry’s defences immediately went up. “Damn it, Malfoy! What's the matter with you?”

Malfoy's eyes narrowed angrily, but he said nothing.

“It’s been four days! We’re supposed to fulfil -”

“Don’t even use that pathetic excuse, Potter. This has nothing to do with the curse, and you know it,” he hissed.

“Yes, it does--”

“No, it doesn’t,” Malfoy spat, folding his arms, and glaring at Harry with an expression that dared him to challenge him again.

Harry scowled, then looked away. “Fine,” he muttered, unable to hide the disappointment from his voice. “I’ll just leave you alone, then.”

Harry turned and then heard Malfoy sigh heavily behind him.

“Potter.”

Harry stopped where he was, but didn’t turn around.

“Potter, come here,” Malfoy said impatiently.

Normally, Harry would have balked at Malfoy's order, but he did what he was told. He stopped silently in front of him, and waited for Malfoy to say something. Without warning, Malfoy pushed him backwards until his legs hit the edge of the chair, and forced him to sit down.

“W-wha--?”

“It’s been four days,” Malfoy mimicked playfully.

“I didn’t mean to sound so needy, I just--”

“Shut it, Potter.”

Harry gasped as Malfoy grabbed the top of his jeans and deftly began to undo the buttons. Harry couldn’t believe what was happening. Malfoy had never been this aggressive.

Instinctively, Harry tried to stop him, but Malfoy batted his hands away, and then slipped his fingers inside and yanked the front of his jeans apart. Malfoy tugged on the sides of them, signalling to Harry to raise his hips so he could remove them. Harry complied eagerly. With a little wriggling, the blond had finally managed to lower Harry’s clothes below his arse, down his thighs, until they rested at Harry's feet. One by one, Malfoy pulled his legs from the trousers and pants, and then tossed them carelessly aside. He gently spread Harry's naked legs, and positioned himself in between.

“Sweet Merlin,” Harry whispered hoarsely. His legs trembled with desire, and tried not to second-guess Malfoy’s sudden change in demeanor. If Malfoy suddenly wanted to take control, then Harry wasn’t about to argue.

He watched intently as Malfoy ran his palms up and down Harry’s thighs, and before he knew it, Malfoy was cupping his balls tenderly with one hand whilst the other took hold of Harry's cock. His eyes fluttered closed, but they instantly snapped open when a pair of warm lips touched the tip. Harry stared breathlessly as Malfoy’s tongue darted out, and ran circles around his glans. Unconsciously, Harry reached out and started running his fingers through the soft blond hair.

Harry gasped as Malfoy gripped his cock tighter, and then damn near screamed when he felt himself being sucked into Malfoy’s hot mouth.

The velvety skin of Malfoy's tongue caressed the sides of his shaft, and Harry gently pushed Malfoy's hanging fringe out of the way in order to watch his cock disappear, then reappear a moment later. He tried desperately not to grab Malfoy’s head and thrust himself deep within the blond’s mouth; the slow ministrations were absolutely agonising to him.

After only a few short minutes, Malfoy slowly pulled away, and began to run the flat of his tongue along the full length of Harry’s cock, and then back down again. He knew that if Malfoy continued this excruciating teasing, he wouldn’t be able to last long. Malfoy must have sensed that as well, because he paused and looked up at him with a full smirk on his flushed face.

Their eyes had met only for a brief moment, but the feverous look they had just shared made Harry realise that what Malfoy had said earlier was true:

What was now happening had nothing to do with the curse.

Before Harry had a chance to contemplate that thought further, Malfoy had engulfed his cock again. But this time Malfoy didn’t stop until his nose was buried in Harry’s dark curly hairs. Harry’s eyes pierced closed, and inhaled sharply as gooseflesh erupted all over his body.

When Harry felt his cock go even further into Malfoy’s mouth, it became clear that Malfoy was actually going to deep throat him! And that Malfoy wasn’t even gagging in the slightest! In fact, the blond held himself at Harry's base for a few seconds before pulling back - just to swallow his cock once again. Harry could actually feel his cock's head pressing down into Malfoy’s throat.

Malfoy’s right arm slid under Harry's left thigh, and lightly squeezed the outside of Harry's arsecheeks to indicate that he wanted Harry to slide towards him. Harry, of course, complied eagerly. As the blond kept a firm grip around the base of Harry's cock, his other hand moved to Harry's balls, cradling them carefully.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat when Malfoy's finger suddenly touched his perineum and held it there, gradually putting more pressure on it. Harry gasped loudly as Malfoy slowly circled the muscles underneath, and Harry instantly gripped the sides of his chair to keep from sliding off.

Soon, Malfoy’s head was bobbing up and down, and his cheeks sunk in every time he withdrew. Harry tried to buck his hips forward, but the blond’s strong grip on his cock held him firm. When Malfoy groaned in the back of his throat, Harry cried out, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to prevent his orgasm from occurring – no matter if Malfoy had stopped now or not.

As if he knew Harry was close to coming, Malfoy went faster and faster, shoving Harry’s cock deeper and deeper into his mouth. Harry's legs began to shake, and every drop of his blood seemed to rush directly to his cock.

“Malfoy,” Harry rasped. “I’m going to ... going to…”

Instantly, Malfoy tightened his lips around Harry, and proceeded to face fuck him harder.

Unable to stop himself, Harry clenched a fistful of Malfoy's hair, and his hips started bucking wildly. His body shuddered violently before his entire muscles went rigid and locked up. Malfoy held onto him as Harry’s cock spasmed deep inside his mouth, whilst Harry held his breath, and emptied himself completely. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry knew that any moment his heart was going to explode within his chest from the intensity of his orgasm.

Of all the times Harry had been fortunate enough to receive a blowjob, he had never came that hard.

As the aftershocks began to wane, Harry took deep breaths to regulate his breathing, and then fluttered his eyes open to look down at Malfoy. The blond was looking back up at him with a smug grin on his face. Harry grinned back lazily, and reached down to gently stroke Malfoy's cheek as if to say, “Thank you”. Malfoy's expression softened, leaned into Harry's hand, and closed his eyes. It was then that a strange feeling had come over Harry. He somehow knew that this pleasurable experience wasn’t out of pity or to fulfil Harry's needs.

It was something else…

Apparently sensing this as well, Malfoy blinked several times, and regained his arrogant composure.

“Maybe now, Potter, you’ll leave me alone,” Malfoy drawled.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at him, but in a split second, Harry frowned, noticing how pale Malfoy had suddenly become.

“Malfoy...?”

Malfoy was on his feet in a flash, and stumbled all the way to the loo.

As Harry heard the familiar sounds of vomiting, he scoffed, “I didn’t think I tasted that bad.”

*******