No reason to celebrate

Draco led Harry up a flight of stairs, around a corner and down a long corridor. He opened the last door on his right and Harry entered a very handsome room with large windows and most comfortable looking furniture. Everything was decorated in a light beige and rust coloured curtains and accessories.

“I thought these colours would suit you best.” Draco said quietly and left Harry to properly unpack his things.

Harry took a good look around and marvelled at the furniture. It was elegant and no doubt expensive but then again plain and simple. No unnecessary embroider or gilding, not too large but functional.

With hesitant hands he opened his travel bag and began to put his clothes into the wardrobe to his right. Was it wise to do this? Why was he here anyway? Was it because somebody paid attention to him? Because somebody was actually interested in what he was doing?
Shaking these gloomy thoughts from his mind Harry slipped into more comfortable clothes and made his way downstairs again.

Harry found Draco stretched out on the large settee, reading a very old looking book. Feeling his insides recoil, the Griffindor read the title and the breath he had been holding escaped with a whoosh.

Draco looked up, resting the book on his chest and tried to interpret Harry’s expression.

“Something wrong?” he asked casually.

“No. No, everything is just fine. I just thought …, I thought …, well forget it.”

“What were you expecting? A book of forbidden dark rituals and spells? Sorry to disappoint you, but this is just a very old copy of Sophocles’ Greek tragedies from 1802. But if you really want to know, I would like to ask you to accompany me for a moment.” Carefully placing a silk ribbon between the frail pages, Draco got up from the couch and reached for Harry’s arm.

He steered the dark haired man over to one of the vast bookshelves and pressed a hidden button. Silently the left side of the shelf gave way to a staircase leading downwards.

Harry looked questioningly at Draco and hesitantly stepped forward. The stair was longer than he had anticipated and ended right in front of a metal door.

Mumbling a spell Harry didn’t know, Draco opened the invisible lock and the door swung open.

As soon as the door had given way, torches and candles came alive and illuminated the room. Whatever it was Harry had expected, it surely wasn’t this. Instead of dark and somewhat menacing furniture the room bore modern metal shelves, a glass desk and a very comfortable looking office chair. There were markers on the shelves, some showing certain authors, other simply letters of the alphabet.

In a shelf at the far wall were differently shaped glasses and vials with potion ingredients and a small table with a cauldron and burners.

With a mixture of fascination and revulsion Harry scanned the books. Yes, they were all about the dark arts and forbidden spells and curses.

Draco leaned back in the doorway and watched the former golden boy. He could sense the battle Harry was fighting and for the first time he could feel a certain amount of unease building up inside of him.

Had it been so very clever to give away his secret hobby to Harry right in the beginning?

Letting his fingertips brush gently along some of the book backs, Harry experienced a strange kind of tingling, as if the very magic in the books was alive and trying to communicate with him.

Slowly he turned to Draco. “ Why did you show me this? Or better, why do you have all this?”

“I thought it best to show you upfront, so we wouldn’t have any unpleasant encounters later on and this way you can make up your mind about it right now. Can you stay under the roof of somebody who likes to study the dark arts as a hobby?”

“Why do you really study this, Draco?”

“As a hobby! Really, Harry, I learned enough of it in my childhood to cause a threat. Even though I never used it, nor will I do so in the future. I just find the subject fascinating and you know what they say: Know thy enemy!”

“It’s just a hobby?” Harry still sounded unconvinced.

“Yes!”

“All right then, why don’t we go upstairs again and think about what we are going to do for entertainment.” Harry pushed himself away from the shelves and stepped past Draco up the stairs.

They ended up chatting halfway through the night, together remembering pranks and special occasions from school and all the while Draco wondered why Harry hadn’t done better than he had. The boy had been gifted, both as a wizard and as a Quidditch player. Everything would have been open to him.

It was long after midnight when Draco announced it was time for him to retire and excused himself. Harry stayed a while longer, stretching out on the settee and waited until the fire had burned out before he went upstairs himself.

Harry snuggled deeper into the soft pillow and inhaled the clean scent. Unlike the mostly to heavy covers in a Hotel room this seemed to float above him, caressing his naked body and leaving him pleasantly aroused.

Surprised, Harry sneaked his right hand underneath the cover and idly started stroking his erection. It felt nice and relaxing, his body growing heavier and warm. Taking his time Harry brought himself to the brink of orgasm, only to slow down again and starting a new.
Random images played in his mind, naked male bodies, firm backsides spread, showing their holes, erect penises and shooting cum.

His body arched off the bed as he came with a deep guttural groan, his semen coating the inside of his covers.

With a bad conscience Harry climbed out of bed and quickly cast a cleaning spell to get his bed in order again before heading into the bathroom to take a shower.

Clad in a soft dark red dressing gown that had hung on the inside of the bathroom door, Harry made his way downstairs only to find the house empty. On the kitchen table lay a note in Draco’s fancy handwriting.

“Hi Harry,
I’ll be at the ministry until about two p.m. Make yourself at home, the fridge is full and if you want to go out, there is a spare key in my desk, top drawer on the left.
See you later, Draco.”

Harry smiled and checked the kitchen cupboards and fridge. Full was not the right word for it. The place was bursting with supplies. In the end he took out a large bowl and filled it with plain and simple corn flakes. After he had poured milk over it he coated them richly with sugar and took it with him into the living room.

Placing his feet on the low glass coffee table he munched his cereals and looked out of the large French windows. He felt strangely comfortable and at home here. So different to all the places he had stayed in before.

After he had finished his breakfast he placed the bowl on the table and took a stroll through the house. Everywhere he went the place looked like it had been done by an interior decorator. Not one piece of furniture was out of place.

Even Draco’s study looked neat and exclusive. The only room Harry hadn’t found yet was the main bedroom. It must be behind that door at the end of the hallway Harry mused and contemplated about entering for a minute before he carefully pushed down the handle.

Inside Harry found the opposite of what he had expected. Instead of the modern designs illuminated by indirect light and the seemingly fresh atmosphere that he had encountered within the rest of the house, the typical stale and stuffy air of an unaired bedroom greeted him. Due to the fact that the curtains were still drawn it was dark inside Draco’s bedroom and against better judgement, Harry decided to do Draco a favour and let some fresh in. It was the least he could do, since he was staying here as a guest.

With carefully measured steps he made his way through the room until he had reached the large window. The fabric of the curtains was heavy and felt velvety. Harry grinned as he found out that the colour was dark green. When he had pulled them away he opened the window, taking a deep breath of fresh air he turned around and gasped.

The room was a mess. All over the place were clothes, robes and many, many shoes. In the centre of the far wall was a huge hexagonal bed, covered with a white sheet and black, obviously satin cover. Several black pillows, some of them rather crumpled, lay on the top of the bed and some on the floor beside it. On a low table at the right side of the bed Harry saw a half empty glass of red wine, a book, a blue bottle of some sort and …., holding his breath he slowly walked over to the table.

Dark eyebrows climbed under his unruly bangs, when he took a closer look. On the table lay, beside the glass of wine a rather impressive, also black, dildo. And the blue bottle was nothing else than lubricant. Harry sat down on the bed with a grin of his face and nearly shot up in shock again, as the bed swayed and sloshed beneath him. A waterbed. ‘Neat’ Harry thought and carefully lay down on his back, enjoying the feeling of the slight bobbing motions, when suddenly something started buzzing irritable nearby. At first he thought it was the bed making these odd sounds, but when Harry sat up again, the sound seemed to become slightly louder. It had to be somewhere on the bed. Carefully Harry started to lift the corners and sides of the cover to find out what seemed to be emitting the buzzing. Maybe some kind of alarm clock? Suddenly his hands found something round shaped, a cylinder, oddly familiar to his fingers, and then again not.

With a small shriek Harry pulled his hand away as if burned and lifted the cover up some more. There in the middle of the bed lay another of these black dildo, only this one had a built in vibrator, which had accidentally been turned on as Harry had lay down on the bed. With a look of mild disgust Harry turned the vibrator off and got up from the bed.

From where he was standing he could now look through the open bathroom door, gleaming white floor and wall tiles, a large shower stall and a part of the bathtub was all he could make out, apart from the myriads of towels, crumpled up and undoubtedly used were lying around on the floor. Shaking his head at the mess, Harry left the room again, smiling at himself when he noticed that he was unconsciously tiptoeing.

After he had closed the door behind him he let out a sigh of relief and wondered what he was to do now. Hadn’t Draco suggested going out? Where had he said had he left a key for Harry? Ah, yes, in the desk.

t.b.c