Journey

*****Just wanted to clear up some stuff really quickly. It was a good point that the 10th century England I'm potraying is a bit different than the real 10th century England, but with a lot of AU stories I've had to try and mold the hisotorical background just a little so that I can fit a 10th century Harry and Draco in there...Alos, I know I mentioned Dumbledore and Hermione and the marriage thing...that was mostly a joke from Ron. In the first chapter it says that Ron is just joking, becuase he knows that if anyone qualifies to marry Hermione, it would be him. It has nothing to do with how the heir stuff will work out. Thanks for the questions, and the reviews, hope you enjoy the next chapter,
-Stacy


PART 9

He wouldn’t talk to Draco. Wouldn’t look at Draco. Wouldn’t even have the courtesy to ride next to Draco. Harry had merely pretended that Draco no longer existed. Not that Draco cared, Harry was an overbearing, stupid lout who had no brains about him whatsoever. And Draco didn’t want him. Didn’t miss those laughing eyes, or that silky voice. Harry Potter was still nothing but a stranger. And if he could pretend Draco didn’t exist, then Draco would give him the same treatment.

So lost in his own thoughts, he hardly noticed Harry riding ahead, then galloping back at an incredible speed. He was sure there was something wrong with another village, but when Harry grabbed Draco off his horse (rather easily to Draco’s amazement) and tore towards the forest leaving his men behind to fight, Draco knew there was something terribly wrong. “Where are we going?” Draco yelled, holding onto Harry so tight he could hardly breathe.

“Away”. Was all that he would say. Draco looked up into the hard face and wondered why exactly he had been angry at him earlier. Instead of trying to remember, he laid his head against Harry’s chest, feeling safe, no matter what or who was following them.

When they finally stopped they were near a stream, and the sky was growing dark. “Where are we?”

“Safe”. Harry mued, ed, helping Draco down off the horse. “You’re safe and that’s all that matters”.

“What happened?”

“You shouldn’t concern yourself with that”. Harry said, drinking from the stream.

“Harry, I’m not a child”.

Draco’s voice was more than just quiet. It was controlled and hard. Harry turned back to him. “Aye, I know that quiet well”. He stood next to a tree, bracing himself, covering his eyes. “They were all dead”.

“Who?”

“The villagers. Every one of them. Dead”.

“But how?” Draco stepped closer, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders.

“Your father’s vassles! They came through and rampaged and„m” Harry closed his eyes. “They wanted to teach me a lesson. To teach Albus a lesson. They want you back, and I’m in the right mind to do it. No, they won’t come fetch you, that would be too simple. They want to make us suffer for taking the only Malfoy heir”.

Draco paled, finding the strength gone from his legs. He landed on the ground with a hard thump. Anger rose in his throat like bile, choking him so badly he could hardly breathe. And Harry was there suddenly, holding him. Brushing the hair away from his face and trying to read the angered look in his silver eyes. “I hate him”. Draco murmured, so softly that Harry hardly heard him.

Harry was kissing him. Laying him back upon the earth and running his hands over his sides. Draco moaned, needing to feel Harry’s warmth as much as he needed to breathe. But he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think with Harry’s hands deftly removing his shirt and sliding his fingers over the hard, pale chest. His lips were at his throat now, words being spoken but not quite heard. Lost you was all Draco could make out. But he didn’t care much about the words, only the fire Harry was creating with his mouth. With his body.

“Harry„m” Draco murmured, pushing at the annoying fabric Harry was wearing. He needed to taste every inch of that beautiful body. To see Harry whither as Draco was.

He stopped his exploration, his mouth had been mid chest, and looked up into those silver eyes that were swirling in need and desperation. “I shouldn’t„mwe shouldn’t„m”

“I need you”. Draco murmured, bringing Harry back up to his lips. “I’ve always needed you to rescue me”. And they were kissing again, no languid movements now. Ferocious pent up passion seemed to erupt from them, and spill over in the awkward love making. Draco strained against Harry, trying to move with him but not knowing exactly how. He had been with a woman before, a maid in his kitchens. He thought he had been rather skilled for being new and young, but with Harry, as always, he felt inexperienced and clumsy.

Only when their clothes had landed next to him did Harry start to guide his hips, thrusting against his own. He had never been with a man before. Never had imagined it. He heard tales before, of boys from Rome and Constantinople. Poor peasant boys. He rocked his hips against Draco, then rolled, until Draco was sprawled across his chest. The silver eyes watched him in confusion, but as Harry lifted him and placed him above the throbbing erection, Draco nodded. Slowly he lowered himself, the pain almost too much. He closed his eyes, biting his lip, waiting for his body to adjust around Harry. Only when Harry brought him down to kiss him did he feel even the least bit better.

Those lips were doing wonderful things again, kissing down his neck. Slowly Draco relaxed and swayed gently on top of Harry. A groan from Harry brought a smile to Draco’s lips. Cautiously Draco began to rock, moving his hips in an uneven rhythm. Harry’s hands tightened around Draco’s waist, trying desperately to keep control and draw out the pleasure for the smaller blond.

One thing Harry was becoming to love about Draco was the fact he was such a fast learner. He splayed his hands across Harry’s chest, using him as leverage. He moved with a mind of his own, and Harry was out of control with passion he had never known. His head was thrown back, his eyes closed. His hair matted to his forehead, as sweat covered both their bodies in a thin sheen. They glowed in the rising moon light.

Unable to take anymore, Harry grabbed Draco rolling over and slamming into him with new fervor. He guided Draco’s hand to his own erection, and after only a couple of quick movements, Draco was crying out Harry’s name. The tension from Draco’s orgasm took Harry over the edge and he grunted, falling half on top of Draco, and half beside him.

Neither moved for a moment, either because they didn’t want to or because they couldn’t. They laid there, in each other’s arms, for what seemed like an eternity. When Draco shivered from the oncoming cold, Harry got up despite Draco’s protests, but returned moments later with covers from the bed roll. He laid down again, bringing Draco into his arms. Ge he he covered their nude bodies, and drifted off into the first peaceful sleep he had had in years.

R/R