Harryrella

Disclaimer: same as chapter 1. I still don't own them, damn!

A/N: Okay, first of all folks, this is it. The very last part to Harryrella. I have loved working on this fic and I'm feeling a bit sad that it's finally over. I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed this. I have never been so overwhelmed by the amount of positive feedback I got. I also want to say a huge thank you to shadow_samurai who has giggled so much and managed to sort out my mistakes at the same time. Hugs to you all.

Please read the exta warning below before continuing.

WARNING: This chapter is a bit angst ridden and there's also a bit of squick. Not much, but enough to make your stomach churn if you don't like reading about vomit. So without further ado, let's bid a final farewell to Harryrella.




Harryrella

Epilogue

Six Months Later


If someone had told Harry Potter, live-in slave and victim of neglect, a year ago that he would be living the life of luxury in the most prestigious home in the country with a prince, he would have had them admitted to the local psychiatric unit. Yet here he was, lying in the arms of his lover, friend and soul mate, Prince Draco Malfoy.

Harry had taken a few weeks to properly settle into his new routine. At first his hands itched to be doing something, dishes, cleaning, polishing, but he was chastised on many an occasion. Now he was happy to just sit and relax while someone else cooked or cleaned. He even felt safe. No one would hit him here; no one would call him a freak or worthless. Instead he had been accepted into the family as though he had always been there. He couldn’t be happier, especially right now, feeling the soft lips nibbling his earlobe.

“Mmm, nice, don’t stop,” Harry mumbled.

Draco grinned wickedly before pulling his lips away from Harry’s ear and capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Once they got their breaths back, Draco propped himself on his elbow and stared at his beautiful lover.

“Did I ever tell you, Harry, that I am the luckiest man on the planet?” he queried, raising an elegant eyebrow.

Harry snorted. “Yeah, umpteen times, Draco. It’s getting tiresome, especially since I’m not that special. I don’t know what all the fuss is about really.”

Draco was flabbergasted. Here was his boyfriend who, up until six months ago, had never been told he was loved, needed and adored, yet he just shrugged it off as though it didn’t matter. “Harry, you are everything to me. You’ve given me your trust, your love, even your hot body, so why are you being so negative, huh?”

Harry could feel the hot prickle of tears welling up. He tried to wipe them away unnoticed, but Draco had seen the first tear fall. He pulled Harry close to his chest and ran a soothing hand up and down his back. Then the floodgates opened. Harry hadn't cried like this in front of Draco for a long time, and it was startling to the blond.

“Why the tears, baby? You’re safe now; no one can ever hurt you again or use you the way you were used in Surrey. Come on, love, calm down,” Draco soothed, letting his hands caress Harry’s trembling body. Harry tried to speak, but it was muffled and incoherent. Draco reluctantly pulled away, but continued to hold Harry gently in his arms. “Talk to me, Harry. Please don’t shut me out; I want to help you, if I can.”

Taking in a great lungful of air, Harry lifted his head to gaze at the sparkling grey eyes before him. ‘Pull yourself together, you bloody Looney Tune. You’d think you were suffering from PMT the way you’re carrying on. Get a grip,’ Harry’s inner voice mocked. He took another deep breath and immediately found his sobs subsiding.

“I’m sorry, Dr… Draco, I d… don’t know what c… came over me.” Draco wished he was coming over Harry, but he didn’t say it aloud. Instead he nodded for the brunet to continue. “I guess I’m not used to all this, you know… living in luxury, being loved and… being given compliments. As far as I was led to believe, I’m a nobody and deserve nothing. These last six months have proved differently and I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed by it all. Not in a bad way, just… I dunno, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Draco chuckled and leaned in to kiss Harry languidly on the lips. “I want you to know, Harry, that everything I said was true. I love you, with every beat of my heart. You are the most incredible person I have ever met, and for all that you have suffered, you are generous, trustworthy and a great shag.” He couldn’t help but grin at the blush that crept up Harry’s face as he said that.

“And most importantly, you are part of the family. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t imagine waking up in the morning alone, not seeing that unruly mop you call hair poking out from under the duvet, or having your cold feet tucked under my legs. You need closure on this, love. It’s over, let it go and enjoy what you have now.”

Harry was lost for words. Instead of trying to think of anything to say he wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled the blond on top of him. Lips met lips, clothes were discarded and before Harry had even registered what was going on, he felt his lover slowly entering his body.

“Nnng, god, Draco, fuck me hard, please,” Harry begged. Draco stopped and looked down into fiery passion-filled orbs, reading every emotion in them.

“I don’t do fucking, Harry. I do slow, sweet, tantalizing love-making,” he said pulling all the way out, then back in again, filling Harry completely.

‘Soppy twat,’ Harry mused, lifting his head up from the fluffy pillow to kiss those hot inviting lips. Tongues battled for dominance and sweat gathered on the two entwined bodies. Harry met Draco thrust for thrust and if the loud moans and heavy breathing were anything to go by, he was sure Draco was close.

“Harry, gonna… yeah, baby, I’m so close,” Draco panted next to Harry’s ear.

This was all Harry needed to shoot his load between their stomachs. Draco felt Harry’s inner muscles clench his cock so hard when he had climaxed, and felt his own orgasm being pulled forth, filling his lover with his hot seed.

They lay on the bed for a few moments until their breathing had slowed down to its normal pace and slender hands caressed warm, sticky skin. “Mmm, Harry, that was amazing. You know, I love being inside you, feeling you all around me, begging me to take you higher. I never want it to end. Please, tell me this is forever,” Draco whispered.

“Harry?”

‘Wonderful, I fuck his brains out and he falls asleep on me. Typical!’ Draco mused as he caught sight of Harry, lying peacefully in his arms and sleeping soundly. Draco decided to leave his lover to rest and headed for the shower. They were going to visit Severus today. He had a surprise for them, only what that would be, Draco shuddered to think.

“I bet the silly arse has gone and got himself a sex change. He was rather fond of Dolly Parton, nearly coming in his pants at the mere mention of her. Ewww, that’s just gross,” Draco snorted as he dried himself off quickly before returning to his room he shared with Harry.

**************

After Draco’s eighteenth birthday party, and then the celebrations of Harry’s coming of age party five weeks later, Severus Snape had lost the will to live. He was constantly followed around by Lucius, trying to cop a quick feel of his artificial breasts that he couldn’t do without now. They were part of him, just like his hair, eyes, ears, arse, okay we won’t go any further, that just isn’t acceptable.

But Lucius never gave up. He thought Severus’s boobs were nicer than Narcissa’s and he even told his butler that. Severus nearly fainted at the proclamation.

“My tits are WHAT? How in the name of Jolene can you say that, Lucius? Bugger me gently, Cissa’s breasts are real, you dunderhead. R-E-A-L. Understand? Mine are fake, just for my pleasure only, so take your hands off them, Lucius, and go find Cissa and grope her.”

Lucius just grinned and pulled Severus towards him by the breasts. “Oh Sevvie Poo, surely you don’t mean that. You know it’s just a bit of fun. I like the way your tits feel in my hands.”

“Yes, I do mean that, you imbecile. And don’t call me Shirley.”

“Huh?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Oh, Sevvie Poo Shirley, you don’t mean that.’”

“I said SURELY, you fuckin’ greasy bat.” Lucius turned around and stormed off to his private chambers in search of a stiff drink and a strong right hand. By the time he re-emerged from his rooms, Severus had gone. A note was left on the mahogany table in the dining room. Lucius snatched it up and read it.

Dearest Cissa, and erm, Lucius. As you may have now noticed, I’ve gone. Flown the coop, skidaddled, buggered off, whatever you want to call it. I’ve had enough groping and leering to last me a lifetime, and I want to spend some time on my own. No more insufferable hormonal teenagers christening every surface in the Manor. If I had to listen to the sounds of, ‘Yes, Draco, harder, oh yeah, right there,’ and, ‘Suck me hard, Harry, swallow me whole, baby,’ any longer then I am certain I would have found a sodding gun and blown a hole through my inflatables. I’m not blaming anyone. I just need time to find myself (I didn’t know I’d gone missing until recently) but anyway, once I’m settled, I’ll write and let you know. You can all come and visit. Please, if doing so, tie your hands together, Lucius, and keep those randy teenagers from soiling my furniture.

Your pissed off, confused butler,
Sev… oops, I mean Dolly the second.

*********

That had been over five months ago. Severus had written twice, once to say he was okay and living not too far from the Manor, and the other time to grant his friend and the family a visit to his new business.

And that’s exactly where the Malfoy family found themselves that evening. Sitting in a pub, a glittering ball hanging from the ceiling, and a karaoke system set up near the stage. Lucius sneered in distaste.

“I can’t believe the bloody fool bought a pub. I mean, what can be gained from this, huh? He’ll have more drunken men trying to fondle him now, and that was what he wanted to get away from. Hmmph! That man needs to get laid, his head is minced and he… in the name of King Louis the Fiftieth, what the fuck?”

Draco frowned at his father’s outburst, and was about to tell him that there was never a King Louis the Fiftieth, when out of the door on the stage strolled Dolly Parton. She grabbed the microphone and started to sing. It was then that Harry, sweet, innocent, beautiful Harry, burst into fits of laughter and fell off his chair. Draco was next to him in seconds.

“Baby, are you okay, are you hurt?” Harry shook his head; he couldn’t speak from the giggling and tears streaming down his face. Draco’s look of confusion made him worse.

“S… Se… ha ha ha ha… Sev’rus, on st… stage, dr… ha ha ha, dressed as D… Dolly Parton, oh, fuck me ten times over. My sides hurt!”

Draco turned in the direction of the stage and sure enough, his eyes landed on Severus Snape. He was dressed in a red, glittering, low cut, floor length dress, dangly earrings, and red high healed shoes. His lips were adorned with red lipstick and his blond wig was done up in ribbons that hung loosely on his shoulders. ‘He looks like a cheap fuckin’ whore. What the hell is he thinking?’ Draco wondered.

The younger Malfoy took his seat beside Harry and waited for Severus to finish singing. It was gut wrenching, listening to him trying to sing in tune. He sounded like a banshee, and that was without a drink. Harry and Draco put their fingers in their ears to block out the screeching. Grinning at each other, they caught Lucius’s eye and he followed their gaze. He gave his son a nod, and Draco got up and stalked towards the karaoke system. He pulled the switch and everything went silent. Snape looked as though he was going to burst a blood vessel.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Aunt Dolly. I thought I heard a cat in agony, I just wanted to make sure before I call out the vet. Nice outfit, can I try it on? I’m sure Harry would love to have me underneath him in that,” Draco chortled. He could have sworn he heard Harry gasp and shout ‘DRACO!’ in the background.

Severus regained his composure and snatched the mic from Draco’s hand. “You impudent monkey, I’ll have you know this dress cost me a small fortune, and I like my new image. I think you can safely say I’m queer.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Draco answered. ‘And I’m the Queen of Sheba,’ he added as an afterthought.

**************

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Harry and Draco were pissed and giggling like school-girls all the time. Lucius wrinkled his nose in distaste at his wayward son.

“Tell me, Cissa. Is this a Black family trait that our son has? Falling down piss drunk and making a total spectacle of himself?”

“It most certainly is not, Lucius. I think you’ll find YOU are the one Draco takes his mannerisms from. Pray tell, weren’t you the one who was snogging a stuffed Leprechaun at Draco’s birthday? You also, if I remember rightly, felt up Severus and fell asleep with your face between his cleavage. No, our son is a Malfoy, through and through. Of that I am one hundred percent sure,” Narcissa said.

Lucius had the decency to blush. His face resembled the colour of Severus’s dress and he hung his head in defeat. She was right, Lucius had behaved most inappropriately at his son’s birthday and now his ‘mini-me’ was doing exactly the same. He stalked over to the two teenagers and grabbed each one by their ties, pulling them towards the exit.

Draco tried to protest, but he couldn’t form the words he was trying so hard to say. “M… re… ging?”

“I beg your pardon?” Draco ignored his father’s tone and tried again.

“Wh… ere… mm… go… going? F… eel shick.”

“Home, you’re going home, Draco. And spew on the marble floor of the Manor and I’ll ban you from drinking ever again. Do I make myself clear?”

“P… er… flicty, per… fucklity… per… ah fuck it, yes, clear,” Draco slurred.

*************

When the two boys returned to the manor, Draco had made his way directly to the bathroom. Harry could hear the retching and spluttering from the other side of the door, but he couldn’t seem to get his feet to move in that direction. Instead he shuffled to the bed and landed face down, fully clothed on top of the silk sheets. That’s how Draco found him when he came out of the bathroom. Having spent the last twenty minutes cursing the founders and makers of alcohol, he had no energy left to move his lover. Instead, Draco collapsed into bed beside him and fell into a fitful slumber.

It was the sound of retching that woke Draco in the morning. That and the sound of pained sobs coming from the bathroom. Harry was obviously sick and Draco needed to get to him. He had learned a month into Harry’s stay that the raven-haired lad had a phobia about vomiting.

Flashback

It had been the Harry’s eighteenth, and despite his protests that he couldn’t handle his drink, he was soon at the point of blacking out. When he deposited the contents of his stomach into the toilet a few hours later, he was crying and hyperventilating. Draco had thought Harry was crying because of the embarrassment of throwing up, but he soon found out it was more sinister than that.

He listened to Harry weep as he recalled the time he was sick at the Dursleys. They didn’t like the mess and made Harry clean it up without rubber gloves on and without water. This had caused more heaving from the teenager and he was even more distressed than before when no comforting hand rubbed his back. Instead he was pushed forward, face first into his mess and made to inhale it. Draco remembered he passed out when Harry told him. How he wished he had reported those psychotic bastards to the authorities, whether Harry protested or not. It was the lowest form of neglect he had ever heard of and he felt sick to the stomach.

End Flashback

Draco threw the covers off the bed and hurried towards the bathroom. He was thankful he had been sick the night before; he knew that would be it for him. He was never one for prolonged hangovers. Just as well, as the sight he was met with would have turned the weakest stomach. Harry was crouched over the toilet, clutching the sides as if it was his lifeline. He was throwing up violently and sobbing at the same time, causing him to choke. Draco knelt down behind him and wrapped an arm around Harry’s trembling waist. He slowly placed his other hand on Harry’s back and rubbed gently, trying to soothe him as much as possible.

“It’s okay, Harry. I’m here, love. Just let it out, no one is going to hurt you. Relax, love, ssh. Come on, take deep breaths. That’s it, just relax.” Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief when he felt Harry begin to calm down. ‘If I ever set my eyes on those wankers again, I’ll fuckin’ kill them. Sickos, the lot of them. How could they sit back and watch a young child being sick without offering comfort? And then rub his face in it as if he were a disobedient puppy?!’ Draco thought angrily.

It seemed like hours before the vomiting stopped. Harry was limp in Draco’s arms and covered in sweat. Draco lifted him into his arms and carried him to their bed. He stripped off Harry’s clothes and retrieved a cool cloth from the bathroom before returning to bathe the overheated body of his lover. Harry whimpered and recoiled from the sudden coldness on his skin, but Draco pressed on, shushing him as he worked, until Harry was sleeping peacefully in his arms.

***********

The next time Harry awoke, it was to find two sparkling grey eyes staring at him. He smiled and was rewarded with a kiss.

“What time is it, Draco?” Harry asked, seeing the darkened sky outside.

“Just after 11:30 PM. You’ve been asleep all day. How are you feeling?”

Harry sat up and realized that the room wasn’t spinning anymore. He grinned and threw himself at Draco, causing the blond to ‘eep’ in surprise.

“I’m feeling hunky dory. Thanks for earlier. I feel like a right tit, having you see me like that,” Harry said, cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

“Rather not feel a right tit or a left one for that matter, thank you very much,” Draco grinned. Harry sniggered and pulled his lover close, latching onto the alabaster skin on his neck and sucking hard.

‘Yes, my life is perfect. I couldn’t be happier, despite the frequent outbursts of sobbing, but I’ll get there. Draco loves me unconditionally; he’s proved it time and time again. And once Christmas Day is here and he opens his presents, he’ll know just how much I love him. The gold wedding band under the Christmas tree will prove it to him. I want to spend the rest of my life with this man in my arms. Finally, I can get rid of the title ‘Harryrella,’ and become Harry Potter-Malfoy. And yeah, we will live happily ever after. Lots of shagging, and kissing, and shagging, and taking the Porsche out on a long drive in the country, shagging on the bonnet, and did I say shagging?’ were Harry’s last thoughts as the shagging began once more.

The End