Dark Beginnings

Harry woke to find himself in darkness. He didn’t recall the floo journey back to their rooms but thought he could vaguely recollect the feel of someone healing the countless tiny cuts and then being placed in bed as cool sheets and warm blankets were pulled up to his chin.



He lay still now, thinking about what had transpired in Hagrid’s hut with a sense of embarrassment and shame for losing control in front of Ron and Hermione. As he dwelt on it, however, so a slow curl of anger began to burn within his chest. After all, if Weasley hadn’t reacted quite so badly to his relationship with Draco, he, Harry, would never have lost control. And he certainly hadn’t expected his former best friend to be a homophobe - it wasn’t as if Harry was even exclusively gay; he still appreciated girls, after all.



‘Draco?’ He sent the thought out, hoping that his partner would be awake and happy to come and cuddle with him.



Evidently his hopes had accompanied the telepathic enquiry for he then heard the sound of footsteps coming closer.



‘I’m here.’ Draco replied and lifted the corner of Harry’s blankets. ‘I’m going to bloody kill Weasley.’



‘No,’ Harry shook his head. ‘Not worth it. Stay with me?’



And he felt Draco slide in beside him. Although the bed was easily wide enough for two, Harry scooted back a bit to make some room – only to feel Draco’s hands on his back.



‘Don’t run off.’ He said and Harry heard a trace of amusement in his mental voice. ‘I can’t cuddle you if you’re pressed up against the wall.’



Harry smiled and opened his arms; only realising that Draco was naked – at least from the waist up – when his fingers touched his shoulders and chest.



“What -?” he started to say out loud but Draco placed one hand over his mouth and so he asked silently, ‘What are you doing?’



‘You wanted a cuddle – that’s all…if that’s all you want?’ There was a definite question to the last few words and Harry had to be very quick to smother the element of panic that charged through his stomach.



Draco, however, sensed it and immediately moved to reassure Harry by wrapping his arms around him; demonstrating that a simple cuddle was all he had at the top of his agenda. After a few moments, Harry relaxed and enfolded the other youth in his arms with a soft sigh.



‘You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about Weasley and Granger, by the way.’ Draco remarked after a few minutes. ‘You’ve done nothing wrong and your sexual orientation is nothing to be ashamed of.’



Harry remained silent at first and then, shifting a little to raise his face from Draco’s bare shoulder, he whispered, “Hmm…and to think Weasley used to be my best friend; I once thought he would like me whatever.”



Draco sighed. ‘Harry, I don’t know why you’re beating yourself up over this. Weasley isn’t worth the angst – he’s impossibly ignorant, small-minded and clearly not worth bothering with.’



“Yeah, I know, but…” Harry began and then stopped, not sure what he wanted to say. He was confused: he’d turned his back on Ron and Hermione but felt injured by their rejection.



After being rescued from Malfoy Manor and realising that he no longer had much in common with his friends, he had made the seemingly logical turn towards Snape and, subsequently, Draco. So, considering that it was he that had turned his back on his friends, was it any wonder that they now wanted nothing to do with him?



‘Worry about this, another time.’ Draco advised, stroking his fingertips between Harry’s shoulder blades.



‘Maybe you’re right.’ Harry responded eventually and then relaxed into the caress, even as a tiny thrill went through him at the thought of taking their relationship one step further.



‘I know,’ Draco murmured finally, ‘we’ll just take it slowly. If all you want is -’



‘Actually,’ Harry cut in as he caressed down Draco’s back and reached the waistband of his pyjama bottoms, ‘I might actually be ready to…do more.’



Aware of the need to move slowly, Draco shifted a little and took Harry’s face in one hand. He moved with infinite care; trusting to touch alone as neither of them could see in the dark. Cautiously, he bent his head and kissed Harry on the lips, feeling them part and invite him in as soon as they joined.



Then, tongues sliding and caressing, Draco moved his hand up to push his fingers into Harry’s hair and pressed against the back of his head.



The sensation for Harry, of feeling Draco’s gentle fingers in his hair and massaging his scalp, was nothing short of delicious. He moaned very softly and tilted his head up, pressing back into those fingers and giving Draco access to his throat.



Draco moved to that area at once; alternately nipping with small, sharp teeth and then apologising with soft lips and a stroke of his tongue.



Harry found himself to be torn between wanting this exquisite torture to go on and on, and fearing to be submissive beneath Draco’s attentions. Too much, this year, he’d been powerless to prevent others from controlling him and, whilst he knew that Draco would never hurt him, it felt very wrong to allow him the upper hand.



So, in an effort to avoid making a difficult choice, he abruptly rolled the other man over and lay on top of him. Their legs entwined and suddenly it was Harry’s turn to explore.



He went back to kissing for a short while and then moved on to plant a series of feather-light kisses across Draco’s cheek, into his hair and then down and along his jaw. With a sigh of desire, Draco turned his head and allowed Harry to kiss the little area of skin beneath his ear.



When Harry tried to kiss further however – and specifically over the scar on Draco’s throat – he found Draco to be suddenly frozen and tense.



‘Hey,’ he said gently, going back to kissing Draco’s jaw, ‘it’s okay. I guess we both have scars, huh?’



‘No one can see yours, though.’ Draco thought back to him and seemed to want to roll away. Harry, however, was having none of that.



‘Your scar is part of you and I love it as much as I love you.’



There was a pregnant pause and then, ‘You love me?’ Draco turned his head back as if to look up at him.



‘Of course.’ Harry shrugged. ‘How could I not love you?’



Draco lay still and silent for several minutes and then moved a little, bringing his hands up to touch Harry’s face. ‘I don’t remember anyone telling me they loved me.’



The way he said it, with no hint of sadness or self-pity, left Harry breathless and paralysed with sorrow for his lover. Despite the fact that he couldn’t recall ever receiving declarations of love either, he felt an over-powering need to hold Draco tight and comfort him.



‘I don’t want comfort.’ Draco responded to his thoughts and emotions. His mental voice was calm and steady.



‘No?’ Harry smiled then, even as his stomach fluttered with nerves, ‘What do you want?’



To demonstrate, Draco smoothed a hand down the back of Harry’s t-shirt and then brought it back up again, sliding under the fabric to reach the warm, smooth skin of Harry’s back. Unnerved somewhat by the sensation of skin on skin, Harry kissed him and tried to give the impression that he could go on kissing like this forever. In fact, that was exactly what he was hoping for; the butterflies in his stomach had started an urgent jangling in his head and when Draco stroked his hand down over Harry’s arse, he gave a little jolt and gasped.



‘I want you,’ Draco murmured seductively, reading the signals incorrectly, ‘in any way that you’re comfortable with.’



Despite feeling a hardness to match his own, Harry found that he really was quite terrified at the thought of taking this any further. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Draco – he did! But every stroke of his lover’s hands brought memories of Death Eaters and the mocking visage of Voldemort himself.



All of a sudden, Draco paused and his hands came up to touch Harry’s shoulders. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ He asked, concerned. Harry tried to shake his head; tried to lean down and kiss him again but Draco pushed him up and shook his head. ‘Tell me! Don’t avoid the issue and hope it’ll go away.’



Harry sighed and pushed himself up, his hands on either side of Draco’s torso. “I want more than this,” he said in a soft whisper, “I really do. But…” he sighed again and tutted at himself. “I just can’t…can’t get the thoughts out of my head. I just keep seeing…” he faltered and closed his eyes, imagining the Draco’s expression, hidden by the darkness.



‘It’s okay, you know.’ Draco’s telepathic voice was gentle and not a bit exasperated or impatient and didn’t fit at all with how Harry imagined.



“But it’s not okay.” Harry growled softly and pushed himself upright to sit on his haunches.



‘Lumos.’ Draco commanded then; one of the few spells to work without spoken words. His wand glowed and cast it’s dim light up into Harry’s forlorn face.



‘This is my fault; I’m sorry.’ He said then and lifted a hand to stroke Harry’s cheek.



‘It’s not!’ Harry responded with an agitated shake of his head, ‘You didn’t cast the bloody Sanguinarius Control spell! You didn’t order a bunch of Death Eater sickos to rape me…’



‘But I shouldn’t push you either.’ Draco interrupted firmly. His eyes, as he looked up at Harry were very dark with only a thin crescent of silver glinting in the wand light.



‘If I was a normal boyfriend…’ Harry started but halted as Draco’s fingers moved from his cheek to cover his mouth.



‘Potter? Shut up.’



Harry smiled around the fingertips, despite himself. Then, with a deep breath, he lay down once more and pulled the other man towards him, so that they lay curled together once more.



*~*~*



Snape sat in his usual chair with half a glass of whisky in his hands and his thoughts entirely on Harry.



Oblivious to what was going on in the boys’ bedroom, he was thinking only of what had happened this evening and, even more distressing, what might have happened if Draco hadn’t been able to hold Harry together long enough for Snape to come and save them.



He thought too of Harry’s inability to contain all the magical ability at his disposal. It was true what he’d told him; Harry had been leaking magical energy ever since his awakening from the coma…or whatever it was. And that too was a subject for consideration.



Harry had been attacked – the gods knew whom by – and had been rendered unconscious by it. During said period of unconsciousness, Harry had somehow cultivated his own magical ability and it had grown to immense proportions.



A sound, a soft murmur, coming from the boys’ room, distracted him for a second and he frowned, listening. When there were no further sounds emanating, he shrugged and returned to his whisky-laced contemplation.



Whilst he hadn’t exactly been fond of the idea of sharing his quarters with two teenage boys (boys who were hormone-driven and were involved in a relationship, a voice added), he nonetheless had to concede that putting them in a room together had definitely been good for them.



Draco no longer suffered nightmares, night terrors or paced about in dark, brooding silence, refusing to even communicate telepathically. Harry, too, slept better, Snape noted; and his schoolwork was improving as a result.



Plus, he added as he took another sip of his drink, it was good that the two of them could live together as they were. The Slytherins, he was certain, would surely have attempted to kill Draco again, had he remained in his old dormitory. And Harry was as uncomfortable in the Gryffindor rooms as his housemates were uncomfortable to have him in their midst.



Mealtimes, when not taken here in these rooms, were spent at the far end of the Slytherin table, away from everyone else. There, Harry felt most at home and could defend Draco should anyone attempt to hurt or harm him. The chance of that happening, however, was practically zero.



Slytherin students weren’t stupid; they knew when to attack and when to leave well alone. And every one of them recognised Harry’s enormous magical power and, as such, wouldn’t dream of risking life or limb for the slim chance of managing to get a spell or missile past him.



But this power, this energy…

He shook his head and chewed absently on his lip, trying to think of ways that Harry could contain and hold his powers. It wasn’t something that would ordinarily come up, he thought. Most witches and wizards developed their abilities slowly and so their bodies adapted naturally to the growing power. It must have been a consideration, though, for dark wizards such as Grindelwald and Voldemort, who chose to enter into the Fusion and Coalition of Power.



Abruptly reaching a decision, Snape finished his drink, glanced at the clock and, seeing that it was only just eleven o’ clock, decided to visit the Headmaster.



*~*~*



‘What was that?’ Harry murmured silently to Draco, ‘Did you hear something?’



Draco turned his head so that, whilst lying on his side, he could listen with both ears and still hold Harry. After a moment, he shrugged. ‘I don’t hear anything.’



‘I thought I heard the door.’ Harry replied, gazing at the other man’s profile in the continuing wand light.



‘Maybe Sev’s gone on one of his night time prowls about the castle.’ Draco shrugged and then turned his head to look into Harry’s eyes once more. After a few moments, they kissed again.



This had been all they’d been doing and, although Draco wanted to take things further at some point, he was quite understanding of Harry’s need to move at a slower pace. And besides, he reasoned, Harry really was an excellent kisser and there would be plenty of time for sex later, when Harry had put some of his demons behind him.



Perhaps he’d heard Draco’s thoughts or perhaps he was simply thinking along the same lines, but Harry gently broke the kiss and smiled mischievously at him.



‘You know, just because I can’t cope with a physical relationship, it doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate how sexy you are.’ Harry began. Draco made no comment but gazed back, looking intrigued. ‘And it doesn’t mean that you can’t reach some level of satisfaction.’



Draco frowned, looking confused. ‘Harry, what are you talking about?’



‘I’m saying that you could touch yourself,’ Harry replied calmly.



‘Well, yes, I know that but why would you want me to? I’m not so desperate that I can’t control my own sexual urges, you know!’



Harry bit back a chuckle and took hold of Draco’s left hand where it rested against his ribs. Then, never breaking eye contact, he brought Draco’s hand down to his own cock and then lifted one eyebrow in an effort to get the message across.



“I want to watch you touch yourself,” he whispered hoarsely, a little surprised at the thrill that the idea gave him.



Draco too suddenly seemed short of breath and his erection twitched within his pyjama bottoms. ‘Now?’ His mental voice breathed and Harry nodded, his eyes gleaming.



“Now.” He murmured huskily, “While I watch.” And his breath caught in his throat as his lover pushed his pyjama bottoms down and took himself in hand with a silent groan.



*~*~*



The following morning brought several things to Harry’s attention. The first was a warm weight that rested all along his left side. Opening his eyes, he found that not only had Draco not returned to his own bed in the small hours, as was common, but he was also naked, as was Harry. And then he recalled the night before and what they had shared.



It bothered him less now that he couldn’t be touched; that he couldn’t return Draco’s passion, no matter how much he wanted to. They had something special and sometime – hopefully soon – they would take it another step further. But, until then, the pressure had been taken off Harry and Draco could still find sexual release.



But he found, lying here and gazing at Draco, that a few of the memories from before – those of the assorted Death Eater encounters – had been over-written. For that alone, he decided, he would be eternally grateful.



He recalled feeling his own excitement as Draco had climaxed beside him; head thrown back and fist squeezing and pumping as he opened his mouth in a silent cry of extreme pleasure.



He brought his right hand up and very gently caressed Draco’s fringe, wondering if they might get away with skipping the first lesson of the day. Draco had fallen asleep, soon after coming and Harry felt that he deserved some sort of reward for being so patient. Perhaps, if they skipped the lesson, he could kiss Draco while he stroked himself to another orgasm.



Draco stirred very slightly but failed to wake and, not really wanting to disturb him when he looked so beautiful, Harry stopped teasing the white blond lock of hair and lowered his hand, closing his eyes and wondering what time it was.



“Don’t even consider going back to sleep, Mr Potter.” Snape’s voice purred and, snapping his eyes open once more, Harry realised that the man was sitting on the edge of Draco’s bed, in the shadows.



Harry froze for a second and then grimaced slightly; after all, Snape was here and had clearly seen that Harry and Draco were at least half-naked and sharing a bed. There was nothing he could do to change that.



With a sigh, he met the Potion master’s dark eyed gaze and said with a forced air of calm, “What time is it?”



“Half past eight.” Snape replied, his voice carefully expressionless. He looked neither shocked nor angry but this, Harry knew, meant nothing. There was no way, after all, that Snape could be happy with the current situation.



“Ah.” Harry nodded once and then looked at Draco as the young man stirred once more and turned in towards Harry.



Evidently unaware of Snape’s presence, Draco then began to kiss Harry’s chest, even as his left hand slid around his body to hold him tight.



“Er…Draco?” Harry murmured, glancing anxiously at Snape, “Draco, wake up.”



‘Hmm…awake…’ Draco murmured sleepily and took a deep breath. ‘I dreamt you said you love me.’



Harry smiled, despite their situation and caressed the other young man’s face again. ‘I do love you,’ he replied, ‘but we have company.’



With that, Draco’s eyes opened and he blinked up at Harry, clearly not understanding.



“Good morning, Mr Malfoy,” Snape greeted him, his voice dripping sarcasm. “Forgive me for disturbing you when you’re so…comfortable…”



In retrospect, Harry would have expected Draco to react with a jump, a gasp, to perhaps sit up and look guilty or maybe even to have offered some kind of silent apology. He did not expect his lover to roll over with complete and utter calm, only to gaze indolently at his guardian with nothing but a slightly curious light in his eyes.



‘Harry, I need to speak to Sev.’ Draco said then and, catching a hint of what his lover intended, Harry almost choked, astonished at his lover’s nerve.



Clearing his throat, he looked apologetically at Snape. “Er…Draco wants to talk to you.” He said and swallowed, feeling nervous and embarrassed.



Snape sneered; “If Mr Malfoy wishes to speak with me, I suggest he comes over here…OR PERHAPS NOT!” he hastily amended as Draco made to push aside the blankets, confirming his belief that the young man was naked. With a sigh, he got up and stepped closer. Then, realising that Draco still couldn’t reach him he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.



Draco smiled enigmatically and rested the fingertips of one hand against Snape’s forehead. They conversed in silence for a few moments – or rather, Draco talked and Snape listened.



When Draco then lowered his fingers, Snape blinked, looking visibly shaken. Harry looked from Draco’s smirk to the Potion master’s expression of unsettled discomfort and wondered if he dared ask what was said.



“Are you okay?” he asked Snape with a concerned frown.



“Get…um…get dressed.” Snape instructed and stood up, “You’d better get some breakfast here – there isn’t time to make it to the Great Hall – and heaven help you if you’re late to my lesson!” he finished and turned on his heel.



*~*~*



Given that they were hurrying to get showered, dressed and breakfasted, there really wasn’t any time for Harry to ask Draco about his conversation with Snape. Though, as they rushed into Potions, only just being the last to take their seats, Harry saw Snape glance once at Draco and he decided, considering Snape’s expression, that he would ask Draco at the earliest opportunity.



They worked silently, side by side; ignoring the rest of the class as the Slytherins murmured snide remarks and the Gryffindors cast them frequent glances. Harry caught Ron’s expression of disgust as he saw him automatically straightening Draco’s collar.



“Harry?” Hermione’s voice interrupted his thoughts later as he packed away his potion ingredients. Beside him, Draco leaned nonchalantly against their desk while the rest of the students hurried off to lunch.



“Yeah?” he glanced at her and then went back to carefully tucking the bottle of powered dragon tooth inside its protective pouch.



“Um…how are you?” she ventured, her voice coming out a bit squeaky.



“Fine.” He said simply, closing his bag and straightening.



“Oh…good. You know, I was wondering if you…er…if you’d like to come up to the Gryffindor common room, this evening?” Hermione said, finishing in a rush and then blushing.



Draco cast an amused glance between them and smiled wickedly.



“Why?” Harry frowned suspiciously, “What’s this all about, Hermione?”



“Nothing! I just thought it might be nice if you…if you’d come and – well, I don’t know – we could play a game or something.”



“What, you and me?”



Hermione’s brown eyes shifted slightly. “Yeah.”



“And what about Weasley?” Harry asked, leaning against the desk too. His shoulder barely touched Draco’s but the gesture was enough.



“Well, Ron’ll be there, of course,” Hermione replied. “But honestly, Harry, he didn’t mean what he said.”



“Sounded like it to me.” Harry said, his tone cool. “And what about Dean and Seamus? I suppose they’d be just delighted to see me there?”



“We don’t need to pay any attention to them.” Hermione shook her head, “We’ll just sit and play a game or talk or do homework…” she looked pleading for a moment.



“Miss Granger,” Snape said then and Harry shot the Potions master a swift glance, surprised to find him lingering by his desk, “I can understand Mr Potter’s reluctance to be alone in the Gryffindor common room with a group of students who are not as enamoured with him as they once were.” Hermione opened her mouth to argue but Snape cut her off. “Why don’t you visit with Harry in his rooms, down here in the dungeons?”



“I…” she faltered and then looked at Harry. “Yes, thank you. If that’s all right?”



Harry shrugged, silently wondering what Snape was up to.



“Then that’s settled. Now, as lunch has no doubt long since started, I suggest that the three of you hurry along.” Snape finished and shooed them out of the classroom.



*~*~*



‘I don’t like it.’ Draco stated, stabbing viciously at his pile of mashed potato and ignoring the slice of beef and mushroom pie alongside.



‘I thought you like mashed potato.’ Harry countered, giving him a sidelong glance.



‘No, idiot! I mean, I don’t like the idea of Granger coming to our rooms. I noticed Snape referred to them as ‘your rooms’ and not ours.’



‘Hmm.’ Harry frowned and turned to look straight at Draco. ‘Maybe he isn’t very pleased with you right now. What did you say to him this morning, anyway?’



Draco’s expression transformed from a brooding scowl to a distinctly mischievous smile. ‘I invited him to join us next time.’



“What?” Harry hissed aloud, staring at his lover in shock. ‘You mean…? Didn’t you…? I thought you were okay with taking things slowly?’



A second later and Draco realised what Harry was talking about and, looking distressed, he seized Harry’s hand and shook his head frantically. ‘No, no no! I didn’t mean it like that! I meant as an extra…! A ménage a trois kind of thing! Of course I’m happy to take things slowly – as slow as you want! Honestly!’



He stared desperately into Harry’s eyes, trying so hard to make him believe him. The moment stretched interminably and then Harry ducked his head and gave a funny sort of half shrug that spoke of his embarrassment.



‘So what are you doing inviting Severus into our bed?’ He asked, putting an edge of humour into his words. ‘Are you nuts? What would you want to do that for?’



‘Well, for one thing, it stopped him from deducting points and awarding detentions,’ Draco shrugged, regarding Harry with calm grey eyes, pleased to have gotten past that tricky point. ‘And, for another, I thought it’d be fun!’



Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times in frank astonishment. ‘Draco,’ he said finally, ‘you seem to be forgetting - you’re the one caught up on some bizarre fantasy of Snape in bed. As far as I’m concerned, I’m still getting used to him being anything but the evil, slimy Potions master!’



‘But you think he has a sexy voice.’ Draco smirked outrageously.



‘I do not.’



‘You do too. When he speaks to you, you sort of freeze up and quiver.’ Draco’s smirk broadened into a cheeky smile, ‘It’s kind of cute, actually.’



‘Enough of this!’ Harry asserted, placing a hand flat on the table between them. ‘And as for Hermione coming down, let’s just wait and see, shall we?’



They ate in silence for a while and then, as Draco poured them each a second glass of juice and Harry served up bowls of fruit salad, Draco asked, ‘Do you want to get back together with all your old Gryffindor buddies?’



His face was carefully expressionless and there was nothing really in his mental voice to suggest disapproval but Harry felt it nonetheless and he regarded his partner in silence for a few moments.



Thinking about his life since the rescue and the development of his powers, things hadn’t really changed for Harry. He still preferred life in the dungeons with Snape and Draco - although not in that way, he added firmly; whatever Draco might think, he didn’t fancy Snape. He still felt jumpy and edgy whenever his old friends came near him too, although why that should be he couldn’t say. Life was just…calmer and less complicated when he was in his own rooms.



Draco’s question, with its hidden sense of disapproval could of course, be easily attributed to his feelings of vulnerability after such a vicious betrayal by his old friends and comrades. As Snape and Harry were now his only remaining friends and allies, he couldn’t be blamed for resenting Hermione wanting to make it up with Harry.



Realising that Draco was watching his face with an almost anxious look in his brittle bright eyes, Harry tried to reassure him with a smile. ‘I’m happy with you and Snape.’ He said firmly, sending a wave of warmth and affection across their link. ‘No one’s going to separate us.’ He promised then and Draco finally returned his smile and started on his dessert.



As they were later filing out of the Great Hall and Harry was about to head off and meet with Dr Litworth, he quickly clasped Draco’s hand. Then, as he released it again, he asked, ‘So what did Snape reply then?’



Draco sniggered, ‘He didn’t say anything. He might have been too shocked but maybe he’s thinking about it!’



With an exasperated shake of his head, Harry sniggered too and walked away.