Harry Potter before the wedding

Harry was sitting in Wizarding London at the bar of a club the name of which he couldn’t remember since after his last drink. The twins took great delight in introducing him to every existing wizarding drink; they knew he wouldn’t have the freedom to get thoroughly drunk so soon again after his wedding – which happened to be tomorrow.
Harry squinted at his watch. 5 minutes after midnight. He was to be married today, to Ms. Hermione Granger, soon-to-be Mrs. Harry Potter.
He knocked back his fifth ‘black hippogriff’, a drink that got darker, the more you had drunk. Harry’s hippogriff was sufficiently dark. Pitchblack, in fact.

It hadn’t been an option not to ask Hermione, really. They had been going out since the beginning of their seventh year at Hogwarts, moved together right after their graduation and now, after four years of living together and several hints of Hermione, he had finally proposed to her.

So he had ended here, at his bachelor party, having fun with his friends and getting royally pissed.
Harry noticed an equally drunk Seamus, leaned onto Ron’s shoulder, being directed towards him by his mainstay.

“Harry, Harry, Harry..,” Seamus slurred amicably and put his arm around him. “We have a surprise for you!”

Surprise? Oh Merlin. Harry hoped that the twins were not involved in that surprise. The last time they had had a surprise for him, weeks thereafter his back had still hurt and dubious people from Diagon Alley had called him ‘King of Wickiepickie’ on the streets.

“No bachelor party,” Ron and Seamus announced loudly “without a stripper!” That seemed to be the cue for the wall across them to turn. A stage appeared on its place and slow, oriental music started to play. Harry spotted a dark figure lurking in the shadows of the back of the stage. As she advanced to the front the crowd began to cheer loudly. Ron and Seamus turned back to him, both smiling, Ron evilly and Seamus conspiratorially. Seamus leaned forwards.

“All yours for tonight,” he whispered and winked before levitating him onto the stage, directly in front of the stripper, who was provokingly posing for the crowd and, mainly, Harry.

Now Harry could inspect her further. She was shorthaired and clad in several layers of red veils. She was rather slender for a woman... now could it be..? Seamus had seemed rather smug, after all. He was now grinning broadly and gave Harry the thumbs-up. So that was it then. The last boy of his life. How thoughtful of Seamus. Harry hadn’t known Seamus had outed him to the others. Not that he minded, considering his surprise, which was now dancing around him in the slow rhythm, trying to coax a response from Harry with his movements.

Harry sighed and gave up his resolve. He had to admit that this boy had woken a spark of interest in him. He was as tall as Harry, athletic and lean, and his eyes sparkled challengingly behind his veils.
As far as he saw he had fair hair, just like Malfoy, Harry observed. Bad joke from Seamus, probably. They moved together in the rhythm of the oriental tune, oblivious to the presence of others.

Harry let the boy wrap his arms around him and flick his tongue teasingly at Harry’s ear. Then he started moving away again, peeling the first layer of veil off his torso. The veils were revealing more than they were hiding when he was moving anyways.
He slung the veil around Harry’s neck and pulled him closer again, all the while moving to the music like a born dancer, graceful like a cat.

Slowly he looked into Harry’s eyes, lifted the veil before his face a bit and began tracing Harry’s neck with his tongue. The sensation made Harry shiver and he pressed closer to the boy’s soft body, which was... interested? Hmmm... interesting. Harry felt himself turn from vaguely intrigued to excitedly aroused, too.

A tug at the corners of the elegant mouth behind the veil showed the other boy’s perception.
The boy tossed the first veil somewhere behind Harry and, hands now free, continued with the second and third veil on his torso. The remaining four veils were now very transparent indeed.
Desire leapt up in Harry as he hadn’t felt it in a long time. Not that Hermione wasn’t beautiful, but she- oh god, Hermione. He had completely forgotten about her. Oh well, he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing anymore. Besides, he wasn’t going to do anything on the stage, in front of the many people he had to look in the eyes again tomorrow. Well, maybe he’d just pretend not to remember. Oh yes, he’d rather not remember.

The boy had him effectively trapped with his hands and veils slung all around Harry. Now neither of them could move without grinding against the other. It was not as uncomfortable as one would imagine. Not at all, in fact. Harry was almost shivering, tense by all the feelings enveloping him.
The boy drew him closer still and guided him into the slow oriental movements he had showed alone before. He steered the two of them down a bit, then cupped Harry’s arse as he lifted his own hips upwards again, pulling Harry with him. Harry slung his arms around him, closed his eyes and, rocking with the beat and the boy, wished this moment would never end.

Unfortunately the boy ended the perfect moment, let go of Harry again and resumed taking off his veils. He had now arrived at the last two veils, which showed the outlines of his face and his arse. He was about to take off the loincloth when Harry tore his gaze away from his arse, caught his hand and whispered, “don’t take off more...”

He didn’t want to see the boy embarassed in front of all these people. Although, on second thought, being a stripper he waobabobably used to discarding clothes in public. Harry just didn’t want it to happen on his account, he supposed.

Or maybe I want to keep the temptation as low as possible, a voice in Harry’s head sang. He shook his head and glanced at the boy, who had slowed down his movements and was struggling to take off a curious black handcuff.

The catcalls sounded again and Harry was uncomfortably reminded of the audience. Handcuff? What was that now? Within a second the boy had succeeded, held out one end to Harry, who – completely baffled – took it, slid his arm protectively around him and tugged on the other end.
The world began to blur as the room dematerialised and they appeared in another not quite so big room, a bedroom, sparsely but elegantly furnished. Probably a hotel room, Harry thought.

They were standing in front of a big, black covered four-poster bed, alone now and Harry couldn’t continue that train of thought as the boy took off his glasses, his remaining veils and threw himself at Harry, who reacted predictably and fell backwards onto the bed, stripper on top of him.

All thoughts of marriage or heaven and hell were forgotten as the boy softly captured Harry’s lips, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue, slowly and sensuously, seeking entrance which Harry gladly provided. The boy tasted like raspberry and lemon and Harry was reminded of his days at Hogwarts, when the three of them had lain in the grass by the lake, eating the fruits the house elves brought them and enjoying the last rays of the summersun.

The boy took Harry’s hands, placed them over his head and pinned them down there, crushing their bodies together. Harry hissed, opened his eyes – and looked straightly at Draco Malfoy, who anxiously held his breath. Harry was shell-shocked. For a few seconds nothing happened, then Draco slowly let go of Harry and sat back. Harry just stared at him.

“Hi,” Draco finally murmured. “’M sorry, I didn’t know you didn’t know..”

Harry stared.

“I’ll just take my things then and-”

Harry woke out of his stupor. Don’t let him go! Want more! his mind screamed.
He agreed and decided that it didn’t matter that it was Draco. In fact, in its very own way it seemed to make sense that it should be him. Blushing, he reached for Draco’s hips to pull him forwards again.

“I missed ‘shut up, Potter!’,” he confessed shyly.

For a moment Draco looked surprised, then he leered at Harry.

“In that case-” He tore open Harry’s shirt and ripped it away, “shut *up*, Potter!”

And he pressed his lips against Harry’s once more, further undressing him until his clothes were scattered all across the room. Harry pulled away and hungrily kissed, bit and sucked a trail over Draco’s body, savouring the little noises Draco made in ecstasy until he suddenly wriggled out of Harry’s embrace, got up and stumbled into the next room, only to return a moment later with a jar of cristalline liquid.

Ooooh, Harry’s mind screamed, I’m going to have sex with Draco Malfoy!

For a moment Harry wasn’t sure if he should be disgusted or angry with himself, but then he decided on cooperative, turned on his stomach and smiled over his shoulder invitingly at Draco.
Draco slid slowly up between Harry’s legs and begun to massage him with the colourless liquid. His shoulders and his back first, then he started again at his toes. Slowly and deliberately he touched his skin, almost reverently and followed every touch with a small kiss. Harry wondered what else he had overlooked in his last years at school.
When Draco reached his arse he raised his gaze questioningly at Harry, silently asking for permission. When Harry nodded, he dipped his fingers again into the lubricant and slowly resumed stroking Harry’s arse, lower and lower until he reached his entrance, slowly circling it, then he slid one finger in and wriggled until he earned a needy growl from Harry.

He then began to prepare him in earnest, moving two, then three fingers gently in and out.
Wild thoughts raced through Harry’s mind behind these feelings. Is he really a stripper? A whore? If not, why this? But all coherent thoughts vanished when Draco removed his fingers completely and Harry did all but try not to whimper at the loss of friction, clutching tightly at the sheets for support.

Luckily, Draco had stopped teasing. Harry looked back to watch him spread the lubricant all over his cock and swiftly turning back. He crawled to his knees and felt Draco positioning him behind him and pressed back, welcoming the friction. Slowly Draco entered him, holding himself upright with one hand, with the other one smoothin down Harry’s hair and caressing his back.

All the while Draco whispered soothing words into Harry’s ears as he slowly rocked back and forth.

“All right, see..? ...doesn’t hurt all that much... look so sweet... so beautiful.. so tight-”

The last word was accompanied by a gasp, since as Harry had decided there had been enough gentleness, he had pushed back and squeezed his muscles, which apparently got the message across quite clearly. Draco started thrusting now, building a fast rhythm.

Harry turned his head to lock his eyes with Draco’s, seeking his lips and holding them, gently biting at his lower lip, then, sliding his tongue between them, explored his mouth.

As they got closer and closer to their completion, Draco grasped Harry’s cock and stroked it in time with his thrusts. It didn’t take them long after that. Harry, having had his first and last homosexual relationship when he had been seventeen (he had never told Hermione about Seamus) was soon overwhelmed by the repeated sensations directed at his prostate. He started shuddering and with a sigh came all over the bedclothes. When he felt the muscles in his arse contract he heard Draco gasp, too and felt his warm seed filling him while Draco claimed his lips in a sweet, slow kiss once more, silencing both their gasps. They collapsed on the bed together and Harry had barely turned around to Draco and mouthed thank you when he felt his eyes drop and he fell asleep.

* * *

When a few hours later Harry awoke again and became aware of the blond boy lying next to him, he sighed. How was he going to explain this to Hermione? And how would he tell her that marrying now and leading a quiet life with a nice wife and maybe a few happy children in the front garden was not what he dreamed of? He didn’t have a clue, but he knew one thing: life had unexpectedly given him back his true spirit of freedom and his passion of living differently and he wasn’t about to give it up so soon again. He wasn’t about to give *Draco* up so soon again. If the Draco incident was any indication, life still held many surprises for him and he wouldn’t hide from them behind his best friend.

Harry threw his arm around Draco and went back to sleep.