A Love So Belated
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
46,656
Reviews:
358
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
44
Views:
46,656
Reviews:
358
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 6: Temptation is the Fire
Chapter Number/Total: 6/44
Chapter Title: Temptation is the Fire
Words: 3629 Words
Harry's books were spread out over one of the tables in the Manor library, along with bits of parchment filled with notes from sixth year, and several quills. He sat at the table with Draco, trying to study, but he kept getting distracted in favour of joking around.
Draco rolled his eyes and tried to wipe the smirk off his face. "Potter, at this rate ...." He trailed off when he realised he'd almost said the other man would need to be there every minute of every day. Which sounded fine to him. He sighed. "You won't be ready in time," he said instead.
"Probably," Harry agreed. "I thought you would be a better teacher," he teased.
Draco smirked again but sighed once more, reaching in front of Harry to point out a section in the book on magical theory. The move brought him so close to Harry that he could barely breathe in his effort to control himself. "Read this part again," he said, voice hoarse. He swallowed and pulled back.
Harry noticed the closeness too and stopped breathing for a moment himself. It was a bit strange. "Um, okay," he said, leaning over to read what Draco had told him.
Draco leaned back in his chair, using the time to study the profile of the other man. He smiled softly. He knew every gesture and mannerism – the way Harry's hair fell into his eyes and the way he would idly push it back; the way the man's nose twitched and how he bit his lip when he concentrated. None of it was new to Draco, but it still caught his attention and held him captivated.
Harry tried to read. He did. But was having trouble concentrating. He could feel Draco's eyes on him and it was oddly distracting. He reached and adjusted his glasses a bit, as if that would help.
After a few minutes, Draco forced his eyes away from Harry and onto the book in front of him. He tried to read. Tried. He was aware of every sigh or shift of movement beside him.
"Merlin," Harry groaned after a few moments. "I didn't know it would be this bloody difficult. I suppose missing an entire year of school has something to do with it." He jotted down a quick note on a piece of parchment.
"Probably," Draco agreed, sounding distracted. Truthfully, he hadn't read a word in front of him.
Harry looked over at him and then stared at his nose. He'd always thought it was pointy. It was interesting. It fit his face well, since the rest of him was pointy too. He was pretty nice looking ... for a bloke. It wasn't strange to think that, right? No, of course it wasn't. Harry could judge whether or not a bloke looked good without it meaning anything. He frowned slightly. Why was he thinking of this? He was supposed to be studying.
"Something wrong, Harry?" the blond asked, arching an eyebrow.
Harry blushed again. "No," he said, turning back to the book.
"Shall I read it to you?" Draco asked, his tone teasing.
Harry glanced at him again. "If you want," he said, his tone teasing as well.
Draco huffed and reached across Harry again, pulling the book in front of himself. He rolled his eyes but then cleared his throat before beginning to read. "Wand work depends on a number of factors, including the power and concentration of the caster and the caster's magical resonance with the wand, as well as the precision of the wand movements and words of the spell ..." Draco smirked, remembering Harry had used his wand.
Harry smiled, listening to Draco's voice. He had a nice voice. It was deep and low, but not too much. He watched the way Draco's mouth formed the words, and the way his eyes moved over them, and then he realised that he hadn't taken in a single thing and found himself flushing again.
Draco glanced up from the page and frowned. "Did it feel different using my wand?" he asked.
Harry blinked a few times. "Oh, um. Well, it did feel different than my own," he said.
"So, how does that relate to what I just read to you?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.
Harry stared at him. "Er ...."
Draco frowned. "Is something wrong?" he asked again.
Harry shook his head. "No, nothing wrong," he said, knowing though, that it probably did seem like there was something wrong with him.
"So explain to me what you know of wand theory," Draco prompted.
Harry took a bit of a deep breath and rubbed his face. "Okay," he said, trying to focus. "Well, I know some things. Do you know about the Elder wand?"
"That's not what the book is about, Harry," Draco huffed, and then cocked his head. "I know that stories exist about it," he added.
Harry looked at him for a few moments. "Did you know you were its Master?"
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, confused.
Harry gave him a bit of a strange smile. "You were," he said. "Before I took your wand that one night – here."
"Master of the mythical Elder wand because you took mine and left me wandless?" Draco asked, a bit of anger at the memory.
Harry winced. "You became Master of it when you took it from Dumbledore. And I became Master when I took your wand from you."
"Dumbledore ... had the Elder wand?" Draco asked, feeling like a rug had just been pulled out from under him.
Harry nodded. "Voldemort wanted it. He got it, too, from Dumbledore's grave." He scowled at that. "But he didn't know how it worked – that its allegiance changed according to the defeat of its previous Master. Even a simple Disarming Spell was enough for it to switch – hell – I wrestled yours from you and it changed allegiance to me."
Draco blinked, staring at Harry. "What? My wand?" If he wasn't already sitting down he would have had to. "Start over and explain this to me," he requested.
***
"... and that's how it ended up being mine, and why Voldemort actually wasn't able to kill me. The wand wouldn't turn on its Master. I actually used ... your wand to disarm him, and that's when his Killing Curse rebounded and hit him instead," Harry finished, having tried to explain as best as he could. "I used the Elder wand once he was dead to repair my own wand, and ... that's how mine was fixed," he added.
"You used my wand ..." Draco said in wonder. The loss of that wand had cost him dearly and, for the first time, he realised it had been worth it.
"Truthfully," Harry began, "your wand worked better for me than any of the other ones I tried to use after mine had broken."
Draco blushed then, closing his eyes at the irony of that.
Harry watched him and wondered what had prompted Draco's reaction.
"I ..." Draco tried to speak, but had to stop and take a deep breath first. He opened his eyes and looked into Harry's. "I'm glad it helped," he said softly, fingering the handle of it in his pocket. Ever since it had been returned to him, he'd noticed a difference. He had assumed it was just his own feelings that made him think the wand retained some connection to Harry. It seemed now that there was more to it.
Harry smiled a bit. "Well, it did," he said. "Even if you hadn't known it then."
Draco stared at him for another minute, mind awhirl with the things he couldn't say to him. Finally, he wrestled control of himself and cleared his throat. "I don't think the Elder wand is covered on the N.E.W.T.s," he said with a smirk.
Harry let out a quiet snort. "Probably right," he agreed.
***
Harry studied with Draco at least a little every day until it was time for the exams. The Weasleys asked a lot of questions about where he had been going. He didn't exactly lie about it, but he didn't want to hear Ron's complaints again, so he only told them he was ... around. Once he'd gotten over the initial ... hold up ... of studying with Draco, he'd discovered he actually was a pretty good teacher. He went in to take the tests feeling quite confident, despite Hermione's very fearful mood. She fretted the entire morning, and the entire time they sat waiting in the Ministry to begin the examinations. It took ages to complete. They were given a little over an hour on each written test, and then had to take the practicals. Harry felt even better after that. Judging from the reaction of the examiners, he'd gotten pretty good marks, and did particularly well in Defence. He had figured that though. He also thought he'd done well in Potions, which was saying something, as that really wasn't his best subject.
It was pretty late in the evening when they had finally been able to leave. They'd spent the entire day in the Ministry. Harry really wanted to go over to the Manor to let Draco know he thought he'd done well, but he didn't know if it was too late to do so. However, when Hermione burst into tears from stress, Harry's mind was made up for him. He left her with Ron – he was her boyfriend, after all – and Apparated to the Manor. He stood waiting for Draco to come to the door, since Rusty had already gone to get him.
Draco opened the door, blinking sleepily. He was dressed in green silk pyjamas, a matching black silk gown with a green embroidered dragon on it, and black slippers. His hair was tousled and he had to stifle a yawn. "Harry? Are you okay?" he asked.
Harry winced, taking in the obvious sight of a previously sleeping Draco Malfoy. "Sorry," he apologised. "I thought you'd still be awake. I'll just go. Maybe come tomorrow or something."
"No!" Draco blurted quickly, nearly shouting it. He swallowed, forcing himself to regain his dignity. "No, it's okay. I must have dozed off while reading," he said more calmly, opening the door wider for Harry.
Harry raised his eyebrows, but did step into the house. "Is that why you're already in pyjamas?" he enquired with a smirk.
Draco closed the door and ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, realising he must look a mess. "Yes, I read before bed," he replied, flushing a bit.
Harry nodded. "I really can go, you know," he said. "I just figured you'd like to hear how the exams went."
"No, really, come in," Draco insisted, leading the way to the sitting room. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Um, sure, whatever you have," Harry answered, following.
Draco rolled his eyes but called for Rusty, ordering them both some juice. He sat down on the sofa and gestured for Harry to sit beside him. "So how did it go?" he asked.
Harry smiled. "Brilliantly," he said. "I think I completely aced Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. And I think I actually did good with Potions too, and I know I would have failed that if you hadn't been helping."
Draco smiled, reaching for his apple juice when Rusty brought their drinks. "Well, I doubt that, but I'm glad it helped," he said carefully, even if his heart was pounding at the look on Harry's face.
"You doubt that?" Harry laughed. "I'm shite at Potions. I'm lucky I knew anything."
Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You will probably get Outstanding in everything," he said.
Harry flushed slightly. "Well, now that's something I doubt," he said with another laugh. "But I do think I got at least an E in everything."
Draco gazed happily at that smiling face. "At least."
Harry blushed again. "You're quite the flatterer, aren't you?" he teased, flushing even more when the words were out of his mouth. That had sounded completely daft.
Draco thought he would say anything to see that blush again. He swallowed hard. "I believe you did well on your O.W.L.s despite everything else going on at the time," he pointed out.
"Yeah, I guess I did all right," Harry admitted. "Got seven anyway."
"Only seven," Draco teased, rolling his eyes.
Harry snorted. "How many did you get?"
Draco blushed then, sipping his juice. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"
Harry smirked. "Then why can't you tell me?"
Draco huffed. "Eleven," he answered.
Harry's eyes widened. "Eleven?" he said. "That's as many as Hermione."
Draco's face coloured even more. His father hadn't been pleased that the 'Mudblood' had gotten as many and one more 'O' than his pure-blood son.
Harry shook his head. "And you didn't take N.E.W.T.s." He shoved Draco playfully. "You daft git."
"Daft git, am I?" Draco asked in mock indignation.
Harry snorted. "Yes," he said. "You're daft, and you're a git."
"Bloody Gryffindor arse," Draco shot back, still smiling.
Harry snorted. "Oh, I'm an arse?" he questioned. "Well, at least my arse is nice." And then he flushed yet again, though he didn't think he would've if it had been Ron he'd been speaking to.
Draco's eyes widened and then he turned his head to cover his reaction. He didn't know what to say to that. Was he supposed to agree that Harry's arse was bloody fucking hot? He was blushing just thinking about it. He sipped his juice, trying to think of what was safe to say.
Harry swallowed, scratching the back of his neck. "So, er, how about we celebrate?" he said after several seconds had passed. He hoped Draco didn't think him a real arse for teasing or something – since he'd told Harry he liked men. He honestly hadn't even been thinking about that.
The question following the comment about Harry's arse definitely set off another round of ideas in Draco's head. He did his best to control his features. "Um, what do you want to do?" he asked.
Harry thought for a moment. "Well, what can we do this late at night with only the two of us?"
Draco glanced up at Harry and then away again. The man certainly had no idea of the affect he was having on Draco. He closed his eyes again, counting to himself in German to stop the images that the question brought to mind.
Harry waited. "Um, well," he tried, fumbling for a suggestion when it didn't seem Draco was going to answer. He grinned. "Have anything to drink besides juice?"
Draco's head snapped up. "Um, sure, whatever you like," he said absently.
Harry wasn't completely certain that Draco understood what he meant. "Want to get pissed?" he asked bluntly, just to make sure.
Draco grinned, thinking it was probably a crazy idea. He usually needed all his self-control around Harry. "Let's go to my room then. I don't think Mother would be thrilled to find us drinking in here." He got to his feet and waited for Harry.
Harry smiled. "Sure," he said, standing as well.
Draco went to the liquor cabinet in the room and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, then led the way upstairs. He felt oddly secretive because, of age or not, he didn't think his mother would approve.
Harry followed Draco to his bedroom, which was as opulent as the rest of the house. There was a large, comfortable looking four-poster bed done in green velvet. All of the furniture was dark, obviously expensive wood and there were thick carpets on the polished hardwood floor. Harry deposited himself on the couch in the room once there.
Draco sat on the sofa too, setting the glasses down and pouring for them both. He handed one to Harry and took the other. "To your N.E.W.T.s success," he said, lifting the glass in toast.
Harry grinned, lifting his glass as well. "And to your tutoring skills," he added, and tipped the glass back, feeling the burn of the alcohol down his throat.
Draco drank and then coughed. Bad boy reputation aside, he really hadn't drunk anything much stronger than wine. "Yes," he managed after a moment.
Harry resisted the urge to smirk. He didn't get drunk often, but he did drink, as Ron tended to get drunk often – usually off Firewhiskey, which was a bit stronger than plain old whiskey. Harry was a tad more used to it.
Draco arched an eyebrow and then refilled their glasses when Harry nodded.
Firewhiskey or not, it didn't take long at all to get drunk. Harry nearly snorted an entire glass of whiskey up his nose as he laughed at nothing in particular. The face Draco made after a drink was funny.
"What are you laughing at?" Draco challenged, trying to look offended but laughing too. He was definitely feeling the effects after only a couple glasses.
Harry laughed some more. "Your face," he said honestly.
"What's wrong with my face?" Draco retorted, scowling.
"Nothing at all usually," Harry replied with a slight slur, taking another drink himself. "I think you have a nice face."
It was silly, Harry was drunk, but Draco's heart still seemed to swell at that. "Usually?" he asked, smiling.
"Yeah," Harry told him. "When you don't make that face. 'Cause then you look funny."
I must be drunk, Draco realised, because he found himself scrunching up his nose and making a particularly strange face for the other man.
Harry laughed again, and then laughed harder at the fact that Draco was making the face to make him laugh. He sighed, setting his glass down, sloshing the whiskey on the coffee table as he tried to pour more while still chuckling.
Draco thought about pouring himself another but decided if he had any more he would have absolutely no self-control left. Not that he felt very in control at the moment. He found himself laughing as he thought about how that had been his problem with Harry from the start.
Harry leaned back against the couch with his glass. "What do you think of my face?" he asked teasingly, though he really was a bit curious. He didn't know why he wanted to know, but he didn't feel like trying to figure it out.
A small part of Draco's brain was screaming at him to shut up and send Harry home, or to a guest room since he was probably too drunk to Apparate. "Amazing," he found himself saying instead, one hand reaching out to gently stroke Harry's cheek with slender fingers.
Harry flushed brightly. Draco's fingers felt very good against his skin. "Hmm, I know, I am rather dashing, aren't I?" he teased, even though he got the feeling it wasn't a joke.
Draco was actually touching Harry's face – fingertips sliding over golden skin as it flushed warmer under them. He licked his lips, heart speeding up.
Harry watched Draco's tongue. "S'like a snake," he said, flicking his tongue out as well.
Draco's breath caught and he bit the inside of his lip again. He slowly drew his fingers over the damp lips of the other man.
Harry snorted and licked Draco's fingers quickly, with just the tip of his tongue flicking out again. "Snakes smell with their tongues. You smell good. Like ... cake or something," he said, unable to pick out the certain smell in his state.
That lick felt like it went straight down his spine to his groin, and Draco pulled his fingers away as if they had been bitten. He was trembling now. If he pushed this, he could probably kiss Harry, maybe even more. But Harry was drunk. He would regret it in the morning. Draco shivered, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands in an effort to control himself and possibly help sober up.
Harry leaned closer to Draco, smelling him some more. He leaned so close he fell over slightly into Draco's lap and almost spilled his drink. He began laughing again, and smelled Draco's pyjama shirt at his belly.
Only thin layers of silk were between his body and Harry's face. The blond shuddered and his cock twitched in response to the man in his lap. "Oh, Gods," he gasped. He needed to move, to get away from Harry before .... Draco reached for Harry's drink, taking it out of the man's hand and setting it down on the table, his own hand shaking as he did. "I think maybe you should go home," he managed, voice strained.
Harry frowned, looking at his drink and then up at Draco. He managed to push himself up. "S'something wrong?" he asked.
"Let me have Rusty take you back," Draco said, breathing a bit easier as Harry pulled away. "You need to sleep this off."
Harry scratched his head. "I'm pissed, yeah?"
"Definitely," Draco said wryly, his reaction to Harry seeming to have sobered him some now.
Harry blinked a few times. "Yeah," he agreed. "I wanna come back over, though."
"Any time, Harry," Draco said with a smile, and then called for Rusty. The elf appeared with a crack and looked suspiciously between the glasses and spilled liquor. "Rusty," Draco said, rolling his eyes at the creature. "Take Harry back to his home and make sure he gets safely to bed."
Harry was amused. "Can ya handle that?" he quipped, teasing the bloody elf.
Draco smirked, unable to help it. Harry was adorable, even completely pissed. Well, especially pissed. Rusty grumbled but took hold of the drunken man. "See you soon, Harry," Draco said.
Harry grinned, strangely wanting to touch Draco before leaving, so he did and traced his nose with a finger. "See you," he said.
Draco couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that, shivering at the touch.
Harry drew his hand back, smiling, and waited for the elf.
Rusty Disapparated with Harry and Draco laid back on the sofa with a groan. He was still aroused, so he reached his hand down to touch himself through the silken material. He relaxed then, closing his eyes, and remembered touching Harry. He let his imagination take him through what he wished he could have done, leaving him writhing under his own hand and crying out Harry's name as he soiled the silk pyjamas. Finally, he calmed down enough to clean himself and go to bed.
Chapter Title: Temptation is the Fire
Words: 3629 Words
Harry's books were spread out over one of the tables in the Manor library, along with bits of parchment filled with notes from sixth year, and several quills. He sat at the table with Draco, trying to study, but he kept getting distracted in favour of joking around.
Draco rolled his eyes and tried to wipe the smirk off his face. "Potter, at this rate ...." He trailed off when he realised he'd almost said the other man would need to be there every minute of every day. Which sounded fine to him. He sighed. "You won't be ready in time," he said instead.
"Probably," Harry agreed. "I thought you would be a better teacher," he teased.
Draco smirked again but sighed once more, reaching in front of Harry to point out a section in the book on magical theory. The move brought him so close to Harry that he could barely breathe in his effort to control himself. "Read this part again," he said, voice hoarse. He swallowed and pulled back.
Harry noticed the closeness too and stopped breathing for a moment himself. It was a bit strange. "Um, okay," he said, leaning over to read what Draco had told him.
Draco leaned back in his chair, using the time to study the profile of the other man. He smiled softly. He knew every gesture and mannerism – the way Harry's hair fell into his eyes and the way he would idly push it back; the way the man's nose twitched and how he bit his lip when he concentrated. None of it was new to Draco, but it still caught his attention and held him captivated.
Harry tried to read. He did. But was having trouble concentrating. He could feel Draco's eyes on him and it was oddly distracting. He reached and adjusted his glasses a bit, as if that would help.
After a few minutes, Draco forced his eyes away from Harry and onto the book in front of him. He tried to read. Tried. He was aware of every sigh or shift of movement beside him.
"Merlin," Harry groaned after a few moments. "I didn't know it would be this bloody difficult. I suppose missing an entire year of school has something to do with it." He jotted down a quick note on a piece of parchment.
"Probably," Draco agreed, sounding distracted. Truthfully, he hadn't read a word in front of him.
Harry looked over at him and then stared at his nose. He'd always thought it was pointy. It was interesting. It fit his face well, since the rest of him was pointy too. He was pretty nice looking ... for a bloke. It wasn't strange to think that, right? No, of course it wasn't. Harry could judge whether or not a bloke looked good without it meaning anything. He frowned slightly. Why was he thinking of this? He was supposed to be studying.
"Something wrong, Harry?" the blond asked, arching an eyebrow.
Harry blushed again. "No," he said, turning back to the book.
"Shall I read it to you?" Draco asked, his tone teasing.
Harry glanced at him again. "If you want," he said, his tone teasing as well.
Draco huffed and reached across Harry again, pulling the book in front of himself. He rolled his eyes but then cleared his throat before beginning to read. "Wand work depends on a number of factors, including the power and concentration of the caster and the caster's magical resonance with the wand, as well as the precision of the wand movements and words of the spell ..." Draco smirked, remembering Harry had used his wand.
Harry smiled, listening to Draco's voice. He had a nice voice. It was deep and low, but not too much. He watched the way Draco's mouth formed the words, and the way his eyes moved over them, and then he realised that he hadn't taken in a single thing and found himself flushing again.
Draco glanced up from the page and frowned. "Did it feel different using my wand?" he asked.
Harry blinked a few times. "Oh, um. Well, it did feel different than my own," he said.
"So, how does that relate to what I just read to you?" Draco asked, arching an eyebrow.
Harry stared at him. "Er ...."
Draco frowned. "Is something wrong?" he asked again.
Harry shook his head. "No, nothing wrong," he said, knowing though, that it probably did seem like there was something wrong with him.
"So explain to me what you know of wand theory," Draco prompted.
Harry took a bit of a deep breath and rubbed his face. "Okay," he said, trying to focus. "Well, I know some things. Do you know about the Elder wand?"
"That's not what the book is about, Harry," Draco huffed, and then cocked his head. "I know that stories exist about it," he added.
Harry looked at him for a few moments. "Did you know you were its Master?"
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, confused.
Harry gave him a bit of a strange smile. "You were," he said. "Before I took your wand that one night – here."
"Master of the mythical Elder wand because you took mine and left me wandless?" Draco asked, a bit of anger at the memory.
Harry winced. "You became Master of it when you took it from Dumbledore. And I became Master when I took your wand from you."
"Dumbledore ... had the Elder wand?" Draco asked, feeling like a rug had just been pulled out from under him.
Harry nodded. "Voldemort wanted it. He got it, too, from Dumbledore's grave." He scowled at that. "But he didn't know how it worked – that its allegiance changed according to the defeat of its previous Master. Even a simple Disarming Spell was enough for it to switch – hell – I wrestled yours from you and it changed allegiance to me."
Draco blinked, staring at Harry. "What? My wand?" If he wasn't already sitting down he would have had to. "Start over and explain this to me," he requested.
***
"... and that's how it ended up being mine, and why Voldemort actually wasn't able to kill me. The wand wouldn't turn on its Master. I actually used ... your wand to disarm him, and that's when his Killing Curse rebounded and hit him instead," Harry finished, having tried to explain as best as he could. "I used the Elder wand once he was dead to repair my own wand, and ... that's how mine was fixed," he added.
"You used my wand ..." Draco said in wonder. The loss of that wand had cost him dearly and, for the first time, he realised it had been worth it.
"Truthfully," Harry began, "your wand worked better for me than any of the other ones I tried to use after mine had broken."
Draco blushed then, closing his eyes at the irony of that.
Harry watched him and wondered what had prompted Draco's reaction.
"I ..." Draco tried to speak, but had to stop and take a deep breath first. He opened his eyes and looked into Harry's. "I'm glad it helped," he said softly, fingering the handle of it in his pocket. Ever since it had been returned to him, he'd noticed a difference. He had assumed it was just his own feelings that made him think the wand retained some connection to Harry. It seemed now that there was more to it.
Harry smiled a bit. "Well, it did," he said. "Even if you hadn't known it then."
Draco stared at him for another minute, mind awhirl with the things he couldn't say to him. Finally, he wrestled control of himself and cleared his throat. "I don't think the Elder wand is covered on the N.E.W.T.s," he said with a smirk.
Harry let out a quiet snort. "Probably right," he agreed.
***
Harry studied with Draco at least a little every day until it was time for the exams. The Weasleys asked a lot of questions about where he had been going. He didn't exactly lie about it, but he didn't want to hear Ron's complaints again, so he only told them he was ... around. Once he'd gotten over the initial ... hold up ... of studying with Draco, he'd discovered he actually was a pretty good teacher. He went in to take the tests feeling quite confident, despite Hermione's very fearful mood. She fretted the entire morning, and the entire time they sat waiting in the Ministry to begin the examinations. It took ages to complete. They were given a little over an hour on each written test, and then had to take the practicals. Harry felt even better after that. Judging from the reaction of the examiners, he'd gotten pretty good marks, and did particularly well in Defence. He had figured that though. He also thought he'd done well in Potions, which was saying something, as that really wasn't his best subject.
It was pretty late in the evening when they had finally been able to leave. They'd spent the entire day in the Ministry. Harry really wanted to go over to the Manor to let Draco know he thought he'd done well, but he didn't know if it was too late to do so. However, when Hermione burst into tears from stress, Harry's mind was made up for him. He left her with Ron – he was her boyfriend, after all – and Apparated to the Manor. He stood waiting for Draco to come to the door, since Rusty had already gone to get him.
Draco opened the door, blinking sleepily. He was dressed in green silk pyjamas, a matching black silk gown with a green embroidered dragon on it, and black slippers. His hair was tousled and he had to stifle a yawn. "Harry? Are you okay?" he asked.
Harry winced, taking in the obvious sight of a previously sleeping Draco Malfoy. "Sorry," he apologised. "I thought you'd still be awake. I'll just go. Maybe come tomorrow or something."
"No!" Draco blurted quickly, nearly shouting it. He swallowed, forcing himself to regain his dignity. "No, it's okay. I must have dozed off while reading," he said more calmly, opening the door wider for Harry.
Harry raised his eyebrows, but did step into the house. "Is that why you're already in pyjamas?" he enquired with a smirk.
Draco closed the door and ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, realising he must look a mess. "Yes, I read before bed," he replied, flushing a bit.
Harry nodded. "I really can go, you know," he said. "I just figured you'd like to hear how the exams went."
"No, really, come in," Draco insisted, leading the way to the sitting room. "Do you want something to drink?"
"Um, sure, whatever you have," Harry answered, following.
Draco rolled his eyes but called for Rusty, ordering them both some juice. He sat down on the sofa and gestured for Harry to sit beside him. "So how did it go?" he asked.
Harry smiled. "Brilliantly," he said. "I think I completely aced Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. And I think I actually did good with Potions too, and I know I would have failed that if you hadn't been helping."
Draco smiled, reaching for his apple juice when Rusty brought their drinks. "Well, I doubt that, but I'm glad it helped," he said carefully, even if his heart was pounding at the look on Harry's face.
"You doubt that?" Harry laughed. "I'm shite at Potions. I'm lucky I knew anything."
Draco laughed, shaking his head. "You will probably get Outstanding in everything," he said.
Harry flushed slightly. "Well, now that's something I doubt," he said with another laugh. "But I do think I got at least an E in everything."
Draco gazed happily at that smiling face. "At least."
Harry blushed again. "You're quite the flatterer, aren't you?" he teased, flushing even more when the words were out of his mouth. That had sounded completely daft.
Draco thought he would say anything to see that blush again. He swallowed hard. "I believe you did well on your O.W.L.s despite everything else going on at the time," he pointed out.
"Yeah, I guess I did all right," Harry admitted. "Got seven anyway."
"Only seven," Draco teased, rolling his eyes.
Harry snorted. "How many did you get?"
Draco blushed then, sipping his juice. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"
Harry smirked. "Then why can't you tell me?"
Draco huffed. "Eleven," he answered.
Harry's eyes widened. "Eleven?" he said. "That's as many as Hermione."
Draco's face coloured even more. His father hadn't been pleased that the 'Mudblood' had gotten as many and one more 'O' than his pure-blood son.
Harry shook his head. "And you didn't take N.E.W.T.s." He shoved Draco playfully. "You daft git."
"Daft git, am I?" Draco asked in mock indignation.
Harry snorted. "Yes," he said. "You're daft, and you're a git."
"Bloody Gryffindor arse," Draco shot back, still smiling.
Harry snorted. "Oh, I'm an arse?" he questioned. "Well, at least my arse is nice." And then he flushed yet again, though he didn't think he would've if it had been Ron he'd been speaking to.
Draco's eyes widened and then he turned his head to cover his reaction. He didn't know what to say to that. Was he supposed to agree that Harry's arse was bloody fucking hot? He was blushing just thinking about it. He sipped his juice, trying to think of what was safe to say.
Harry swallowed, scratching the back of his neck. "So, er, how about we celebrate?" he said after several seconds had passed. He hoped Draco didn't think him a real arse for teasing or something – since he'd told Harry he liked men. He honestly hadn't even been thinking about that.
The question following the comment about Harry's arse definitely set off another round of ideas in Draco's head. He did his best to control his features. "Um, what do you want to do?" he asked.
Harry thought for a moment. "Well, what can we do this late at night with only the two of us?"
Draco glanced up at Harry and then away again. The man certainly had no idea of the affect he was having on Draco. He closed his eyes again, counting to himself in German to stop the images that the question brought to mind.
Harry waited. "Um, well," he tried, fumbling for a suggestion when it didn't seem Draco was going to answer. He grinned. "Have anything to drink besides juice?"
Draco's head snapped up. "Um, sure, whatever you like," he said absently.
Harry wasn't completely certain that Draco understood what he meant. "Want to get pissed?" he asked bluntly, just to make sure.
Draco grinned, thinking it was probably a crazy idea. He usually needed all his self-control around Harry. "Let's go to my room then. I don't think Mother would be thrilled to find us drinking in here." He got to his feet and waited for Harry.
Harry smiled. "Sure," he said, standing as well.
Draco went to the liquor cabinet in the room and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, then led the way upstairs. He felt oddly secretive because, of age or not, he didn't think his mother would approve.
Harry followed Draco to his bedroom, which was as opulent as the rest of the house. There was a large, comfortable looking four-poster bed done in green velvet. All of the furniture was dark, obviously expensive wood and there were thick carpets on the polished hardwood floor. Harry deposited himself on the couch in the room once there.
Draco sat on the sofa too, setting the glasses down and pouring for them both. He handed one to Harry and took the other. "To your N.E.W.T.s success," he said, lifting the glass in toast.
Harry grinned, lifting his glass as well. "And to your tutoring skills," he added, and tipped the glass back, feeling the burn of the alcohol down his throat.
Draco drank and then coughed. Bad boy reputation aside, he really hadn't drunk anything much stronger than wine. "Yes," he managed after a moment.
Harry resisted the urge to smirk. He didn't get drunk often, but he did drink, as Ron tended to get drunk often – usually off Firewhiskey, which was a bit stronger than plain old whiskey. Harry was a tad more used to it.
Draco arched an eyebrow and then refilled their glasses when Harry nodded.
Firewhiskey or not, it didn't take long at all to get drunk. Harry nearly snorted an entire glass of whiskey up his nose as he laughed at nothing in particular. The face Draco made after a drink was funny.
"What are you laughing at?" Draco challenged, trying to look offended but laughing too. He was definitely feeling the effects after only a couple glasses.
Harry laughed some more. "Your face," he said honestly.
"What's wrong with my face?" Draco retorted, scowling.
"Nothing at all usually," Harry replied with a slight slur, taking another drink himself. "I think you have a nice face."
It was silly, Harry was drunk, but Draco's heart still seemed to swell at that. "Usually?" he asked, smiling.
"Yeah," Harry told him. "When you don't make that face. 'Cause then you look funny."
I must be drunk, Draco realised, because he found himself scrunching up his nose and making a particularly strange face for the other man.
Harry laughed again, and then laughed harder at the fact that Draco was making the face to make him laugh. He sighed, setting his glass down, sloshing the whiskey on the coffee table as he tried to pour more while still chuckling.
Draco thought about pouring himself another but decided if he had any more he would have absolutely no self-control left. Not that he felt very in control at the moment. He found himself laughing as he thought about how that had been his problem with Harry from the start.
Harry leaned back against the couch with his glass. "What do you think of my face?" he asked teasingly, though he really was a bit curious. He didn't know why he wanted to know, but he didn't feel like trying to figure it out.
A small part of Draco's brain was screaming at him to shut up and send Harry home, or to a guest room since he was probably too drunk to Apparate. "Amazing," he found himself saying instead, one hand reaching out to gently stroke Harry's cheek with slender fingers.
Harry flushed brightly. Draco's fingers felt very good against his skin. "Hmm, I know, I am rather dashing, aren't I?" he teased, even though he got the feeling it wasn't a joke.
Draco was actually touching Harry's face – fingertips sliding over golden skin as it flushed warmer under them. He licked his lips, heart speeding up.
Harry watched Draco's tongue. "S'like a snake," he said, flicking his tongue out as well.
Draco's breath caught and he bit the inside of his lip again. He slowly drew his fingers over the damp lips of the other man.
Harry snorted and licked Draco's fingers quickly, with just the tip of his tongue flicking out again. "Snakes smell with their tongues. You smell good. Like ... cake or something," he said, unable to pick out the certain smell in his state.
That lick felt like it went straight down his spine to his groin, and Draco pulled his fingers away as if they had been bitten. He was trembling now. If he pushed this, he could probably kiss Harry, maybe even more. But Harry was drunk. He would regret it in the morning. Draco shivered, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands in an effort to control himself and possibly help sober up.
Harry leaned closer to Draco, smelling him some more. He leaned so close he fell over slightly into Draco's lap and almost spilled his drink. He began laughing again, and smelled Draco's pyjama shirt at his belly.
Only thin layers of silk were between his body and Harry's face. The blond shuddered and his cock twitched in response to the man in his lap. "Oh, Gods," he gasped. He needed to move, to get away from Harry before .... Draco reached for Harry's drink, taking it out of the man's hand and setting it down on the table, his own hand shaking as he did. "I think maybe you should go home," he managed, voice strained.
Harry frowned, looking at his drink and then up at Draco. He managed to push himself up. "S'something wrong?" he asked.
"Let me have Rusty take you back," Draco said, breathing a bit easier as Harry pulled away. "You need to sleep this off."
Harry scratched his head. "I'm pissed, yeah?"
"Definitely," Draco said wryly, his reaction to Harry seeming to have sobered him some now.
Harry blinked a few times. "Yeah," he agreed. "I wanna come back over, though."
"Any time, Harry," Draco said with a smile, and then called for Rusty. The elf appeared with a crack and looked suspiciously between the glasses and spilled liquor. "Rusty," Draco said, rolling his eyes at the creature. "Take Harry back to his home and make sure he gets safely to bed."
Harry was amused. "Can ya handle that?" he quipped, teasing the bloody elf.
Draco smirked, unable to help it. Harry was adorable, even completely pissed. Well, especially pissed. Rusty grumbled but took hold of the drunken man. "See you soon, Harry," Draco said.
Harry grinned, strangely wanting to touch Draco before leaving, so he did and traced his nose with a finger. "See you," he said.
Draco couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at that, shivering at the touch.
Harry drew his hand back, smiling, and waited for the elf.
Rusty Disapparated with Harry and Draco laid back on the sofa with a groan. He was still aroused, so he reached his hand down to touch himself through the silken material. He relaxed then, closing his eyes, and remembered touching Harry. He let his imagination take him through what he wished he could have done, leaving him writhing under his own hand and crying out Harry's name as he soiled the silk pyjamas. Finally, he calmed down enough to clean himself and go to bed.