The Heat's On Hold

DISCLAIMER: Warning! I make no claim to any property of J.K. Rowling's, and am in no way profiting by this. I do offer her my sincerest thanks for allowing us this garden of the mind in which we play. Further Warning! This story...and likely any I ever write…are dominated by gay themes and characters. That's how it is, if this in any way makes you uncomfortable...do not read further.


The Heat‘s On Hold.….by Samayel


Rumors flew fast and furious from Slytherin in the days that followed, and however carefully Harry may have hidden his interest, he was listening and watching for every detail, and what he heard and saw kept his rapt attention.

Slytherin, as a whole, came to the conclusion that Draco had completely cracked. In the days following Harry’s ultimatum, Draco had reportedly thrown multiple fits, and had savagely hexed and cursed any number of his housemates, not to mention the destruction he had invoked on his own room that first night. Apparently, the scene had resembled that of a freak, indoor tornado touchdown.

Nothing too terrible was done to other students, but the sight of Slytherins disfigured by acne or painful boils, or fleeing for bathrooms to relieve themselves because of magically inspired gastric or bowel ailments, became so commonplace as to rattle the nerves of other houses, who feared that Draco might expand his list of targets.

The Marauder’s Map was Harry’s constant friend, and he observed Draco’s every movement night and day. Draco hadn’t kept company with anyone long enough to suggest a romantic interlude…and normally, those persons who approached Draco’s dot on the map wound up fleeing the other way with all due haste.

Draco still went to the baths each night, alone, and stalked the halls much later than usual, menacing the younger years as never before. Rumors abounded of first years peeing themselves in fright when Draco rounded a corner and scowled at them.

Oddly, given that Harry was obviously the source of the distress, Draco made no move against him personally, but when they were in a class or a room together, Draco bristled with visible anger. Fortunately, Draco now bristled with anger almost constantly, so no one noticed anything out of place. Either way, Harry felt a certain relief that Draco wasn’t openly attacking him, since an act like that would have quickly proven that the possibility of seeing Draco again was out of the question.

Self respect was a fine thing, Harry thought, but it had a price of its own as well. He was lonely. Not for friends…he had those and loved them dearly. He was lonely for Draco’s touch, and in a way he hadn’t expected, given that the past several months had involved seeing Draco every night.

In that final night he’d spent with Draco, his body had taken a lot of punishment, mostly from the rough handling he’d put himself through. He’d ached for two days, and sitting through his classes had been a far worse torment than ever before. Then the pain slowly faded to a faint soreness, and then even that was gone. Somehow, in a way that Harry couldn’t quite explain, he missed that discomfort more than he would have imagined. It had been the only tangible and real proof he had left of his time with Draco.

At night, with his curtains drawn around his bed, he would watch a dot titled Draco Malfoy walk to the Prefect baths and languish longer than ever in them. When Draco had left and returned from his patrol of the halls, only to enter his room alone, Harry would fold up the map and sigh.

He was plagued by constant erections now, and wanking never really made his feeling of restless hunger go away. He went through the motions, and got the expected results, but it always seemed like a hollow victory, and the only pleasure in it was a temporary relief that faded much too quickly.

He wanted soft kisses on his shoulders, and teeth that nipped at his neck and throat, and soft hands that caressed with hidden promises of more in every touch. Most of all, he wanted to be held in the afterglow of a savage and perfect shag, sated and dreamy for just a few minutes again.

Fumbling about with his own fingers in the shower was a pathetic substitute for Draco’s gentle entries and skillful thrusts. Harry may have wanted Draco to try bottoming for him, but the only pleasures he had ever physically known had come from his time with Draco, and what pleasures they had been! There was no shame in missing that. However badly he wanted to explore the rest with Draco, at the moment, he just missed the way things had been, and the comforts he’d grown used to over the past months.

When Draco had wanted to please him, he had cosseted and spoiled Harry outlandishly, lavishing Harry with sexual attention and subtly kind words. A life spent with the Dursleys had left Harry receptive to and easily flattered by praise. Now the one person who had praised him most intimately and often, was bitter, angry and far away, and that absence stung more than Harry had imagined it would.

Would it have been worth it to wait just a little longer? Had he been right to break it off that night? It was possible that Draco might have just needed more time…and Draco’s awestruck words as they had lain, curled together on the cool tiles of the floor, came back to him.

‘There’s no one like you, Harry. No one.’

He’d felt so sure that Draco wouldn’t change, certain that his choice was right, but now loneliness, unrequited lust, and faint regret dogged his heels every night. He knew one thing for certain, though, and that kept him steady on his course. He deserved a lover. He deserved to be made love to, not merely fucked when convenient and then discarded. He had every right to hear someone tell him he was loved, and to feel someone’s arms around him for no reason other than just to show that they cared. Anything less than that was just a sham, and now he knew he was worth more than that, no matter what the Dursleys or anyone else had said over the years.

What came next was inevitable. Five days since the ugly rift had been born between them, Draco finally ran into Harry in an empty hall. Harry hadn’t checked his map recently, and certainly hadn’t planned to see Draco here and now, and the uncomfortable silence between them as they paused and just stared at each other was intolerable.

Draco’s face was pinched and angry, and Harry turned away after almost a minute had passed, muttering politely and trying not to look Draco in the eyes.

“I should just go. See you around.”

“Potter.”

Harry stopped and turned around slowly, privately loathing the way Draco’s gaze made him feel flushed and hungry all over again.

“Yeah?” Harry feigned as much indifference as he could manage.

“There’s a classroom down the hall. Let’s go.” So peremptory, as if Malfoy expected to be obeyed. Harry’s irritation with the blond flickered back to life.

“What for? I go where I please…but if someone asked politely I might consider it.”

Malfoy stopped in his tracks, having already started down the hall. The tension in the back of his neck, and the set of his shoulders, told Harry that Draco was fighting his infamous temper.

“Potter. We should talk. Hallways…not the best place. Classroom…fewer interruptions. Is all this clear? We have class in twenty minutes, so don’t waste time.”

Draco’s teeth were almost gritted while he growled out the words. Harry suddenly remembered their long series of past disagreements, and was feeling especially stubborn. He wasn’t backing down now!

“Ask…politely!” Harry growled just as tersely as Malfoy.

Draco was turning a shade of red and his hand was shaking like he wanted a wand in it, but a second later he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Harry was surprised by the act of self restraint, but not as surprised as he was by Malfoy’s next comment.

“Would you please join me for a short conversation in the classroom down the hall, Harry?”

It looked like it had taken everything Draco could muster just to get that out, and Harry fought the urge to laugh at the spectacle. Harry started walking down the hall.

“Well, what are you waiting for, Draco? Let’s go.”

As far as Harry was concerned, the incoherent growl of outrage that Malfoy stifled as he hurried to follow was well worth whatever discomfort this conversation would bring.

Once they were in the classroom, Harry threw a Silence Charm at the door and turned to Draco, who was standing rather uncomfortably beside an unused desk. Malfoy said nothing, just staring at Harry with an angry intensity.

“So. What is it?” Harry asked innocently enough.

Draco finally had something to react to, and exploded promptly. “What the fuck kind of question is that? You know what there is to talk about! Stop playing so stupid…I know for a fact you’re not that dumb, Potter! There’s more Slytherin in you than just the parts I put there! Fucking talk to me.”

Harry weathered the tirade, and ignored the less than subtle reminder of their past sexual exploits, then spoke calmly.

“I didn’t ask you to come here. You asked me. I’m more than willing to listen to you if you have anything constructive to say, but my days of putting up with your stand offish bullshit are over. I made myself perfectly clear the last time we spoke, and nothing has changed since then. So it’s back to you, Draco. What do you want to talk about?”

Harry’s tone was so level and calm that he even impressed himself. It was hard to be in a room alone with Draco and not jump the blond he’d been pining after, but he was doing just that, and astonishingly well.

Draco floundered, unsure and silent. He obviously hadn’t thought out what he wanted to say. Harry turned to leave, sighing in disappointment.

“Wait! I’m sorry I said those things that night. I was angry and they just came out. I didn’t mean any of them,” blurted Draco.

Harry turned back to Draco. “I accept that. It’s also only right to say thank you for apologizing, but those things you said didn’t hurt me. They have nothing to do with this. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”

Draco’s face flickered annoyance. “What? No apology for me? I apologized…it’s your turn!”

Harry reeled in surprise. “For what?!”

Draco looked at him like he was talking to a complete cretin. “For what you called me! What else? You said I was piss ignorant…and inhuman! I apologized, so should you.”

It was Harry’s turn to grind his teeth in frustration. Of all the fucking nerve! It wasn’t that big of a deal, and he hadn’t wanted to shred Draco personally, but he’d needed to make his point clear that night. Harry bit back an angry retort, and thought for a second, while Draco watched him intently.

“Okay…okay! I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings. I don’t think you’re inhuman.”

“What about piss ignorant?”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet…ask me again some other time.”

Draco’s face pinched and flushed again. “Fine! Apology accepted, with the option to decide on the last part later!” He looked away sullenly, and Harry waited, until he realized he did have something he wanted say to Draco.

“I miss you.”

Draco’s jaw dropped and his head swiveled to look directly at Harry at last.

“But not enough to put up with being treated like a convenience. I’m not just a place you get to park your dick for awhile. If you’d let some of those walls down you’d find out what it’s like to have somebody who really wants to be with you. I just don’t think you’ll do that, for me or anyone else. That’s why we’re through. And I don’t think you’re inhuman. Just the opposite actually…I think there’s a part of you somewhere in there that wants something more, but you’re too fucking good at keeping it buried. If you ever dig that part up and let it see daylight, I’d love to be there. Until then, I hope you’re alright, because I don’t like seeing you unhappy…no matter what you may think.“ Harry folded his arms and waited.

Draco took it in stride, given that he wasn’t used to being spoken to that way by anyone, and it took him a minute to work through a string of conflicting emotions before he could answer. Harry waited patiently, then Draco stood up and walked for the door.

“I have to go…class…out of time. Later.”

It happened so fast Harry couldn’t believe it. Draco was down the hall and gone in a minute, leaving Harry alone in the classroom, wondering what the hell Malfoy’s problems really were. They’d almost made a little progress, without Harry having to sexually exhaust Draco first, and Draco ran off the minute he was confronted with even a few guesses about his emotional issues.

Harry headed for class, irritable and confused, wondering where the hell all this would ultimately lead.

A few days later, having had time to mull that weird event over, Harry had a slightly better picture of where Draco was at, and had looked at things in a very new light.

Draco hid so much of himself, and obviously, there must be reasons that made him feel this was necessary. Harry had only looked at the matter from the perspective of the would-be boyfriend that wasn’t allowed to get too close, but he hadn’t looked at why that was a problem until now, and this sobered Harry quickly.

He wanted Draco as badly as ever, even more perhaps, but to give in now, just to satisfy himself, would reinforce Draco’s current behavior, just as he was beginning to face it. If he wanted Draco back, in a way that was healthy and right and might last, he would have to keep working at Draco’s defenses until the stubborn git opened up and gave Harry something more significant to help him with.

Draco needed help. Harry had kept his distance as best he’d been able, but there were so many signs that Draco wanted to express more, and needed Harry even if he didn’t say it, that the temptation to give in was constantly upon him. He wanted so much to be in Draco’s life, even if that meant occupying just a tiny corner of that life, that almost anything looked better than this constant separation.

Harry compromised. Inside, he knew he shouldn’t, but the notion he had in mind allowed him a certain leeway. Tonight, Harry would don his cloak and go to the baths early…well before Draco…then watch Draco’s behavior without revealing himself. All he had to do was restrain the urge to throw the cloak off and give himself to Draco, and he’d already proven he could resist that urge…hadn’t he?

Harry did just that, cloak and map in hand, several hours later. The journey to the Prefect’s baths went well, and with his map at his service, he would know if anyone other than Draco was nearby. In a moment of stark clarity as he reached the door of the baths, Harry realized that he missed this place, too.

It was empty, as the hour was late, and most students were back in their common rooms studying or talking. Here he was, alone, in a room that had seen his entire life change. Three months ago, he’d felt like a different person, and given what he’d seen, and felt, and thought since then…maybe he really was a different person now.

In his mind’s eye, past events flickered before him as he looked around the room. Draco bathing while Harry watched in awestruck silence. Draco winking to Harry as he brought himself to orgasm, reveling in the show he was putting on for Harry’s benefit. That first, gently blocked, attempt to kiss Draco after they’d brought each other off the first time. Harry’s eyes flickered an echo of sorrow at that thought.

The memory of that sensational mouth and tongue at work on Harry’s hardened prick, and the softness of those nimble hands. Fingers that stretched and teased him effortlessly, and a tongue that mercilessly guided him to a state of repletion. Finally, ghosts recollections of so many high-octane, mind-blowing fuckings, that Harry couldn’t really separate the memories of them anymore. Except for certain highlights, many of them had blended in his mind, until they were remembered more collectively than individually.

Harry didn’t know how long he’d been letting such memories drift through his mind, but he snapped promptly back to reality when he heard the dull grind of the entrance opening. He stepped back to the far corner of the room, hoping Draco hadn’t suddenly taken to spelling the room against others. With Slytherins, you never could be sure what they were up to next. Come to think of it, given the circumstances, the same could have been said of Harry…though that thought was uncomfortable to say the least!

Draco Malfoy strolled into the room, looking rather distracted and vaguely annoyed, but at least he moved right to the bench and began preparing for his bath…instead hurling any spells.

Harry watched, biting his lip with regret when Draco peeled away his shirt and slacks. That wonderful expanse of taut muscle and pale skin was as tempting to him as ever, but Harry watched without a sound.

Draco stood at the edge of the bath, looking around the place with eyes that looked full of unspoken thoughts.

“He’s remembering us, just like I was! I know he is.”

Then the lithe blond slumped into the pool and leaned back against the steps, just laying there, eyes closed tightly. Draco finally sat up and put his head in his hands, pushing his hair back and out of his face. Sitting there, unaware that he was watched, Draco had no pretense, and no mask of emotionless indifference. Without an audience, Draco looked genuinely sad, uncertain, and restless.

Shortly, Draco pulled out of his slump and listlessly went about the process of actually bathing, and Harry could smell the expensive products that Draco always used, even from across the room. Draco’s skin glistened wetly in the enchanted light of the room, and Harry was completely bemused by the site, wishing desperately that he could be in that bath, alongside Draco, engaged in the familiar ritual of bathing, after having glutted each other’s lusts completely.

The entrance to the baths ground noisily for a moment, and Draco’s head swung that direction sharply. Harry saw the look on Draco’s face, naked and honest, before he glanced to the entryway himself. It was a look of desperate hope.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice echoed lightly in the hazy steam of the room. There was no reply.

Harry waited, as did Draco, but no one entered or spoke. Harry finally unfolded his map, while Draco warily went back to bathing.

Two dots were headed away from the room, in the direction of the dungeons. Zabini…Nott. What the hell they could have been up to was beyond Harry’s ability to imagine. Then he folded the map and looked back to the entrance.

Lean, dark and menacingly slow, a black snake with unusual markings in red and green, some five feet long, slithered silently toward the bathtub…and toward Draco Malfoy, who was rinsing his hair out, completely oblivious to the danger approaching him quickly.

Harry panicked a moment, unsure if he should break cover, and gasped loudly, drawing Draco’s sudden attention. Draco scanned the room and, seeing the approaching serpent, Accio’d his wand and waded backwards hastily, wide eyed and frantically trying to think of spells.

Draco flung a series of high speed hexes at the approaching snake, which clearly possessed some form of intelligence, as it moved unerringly toward Draco, but the spells struck and dissipated harmlessly. That’s when Draco backed out of the bath entirely and started yelling for help, firing spells almost randomly as he searched for something that would stave off imminent death.

Harry swung into action, stripping the cloak away and bellowing in Parseltongue.

{*STOP! LEAVE HIM BE!*}

The power in his voice made the words a clear command, and the snake reared up and turned to Harry quizzically, awaiting explanation.

*Massterr…we haave beeeen tasssked thisss. Mussst kill thisss one!*

{*You will not harm him! GO! Back where you came from! Harm no one in this place!*}

*Tasssked-*

{*I COMMAND YOU! DO AS I BID YOU! NOW! GO!*}

The snake was undoubtedly a Dark creature, even though Harry had no idea what breed it may have been. It resisted his commands, albeit with difficulty, and was struggling in the face of conflicting orders.

Harry’s anger and fear boiled over into an all consuming rage. Power fairly crackled around him while he gathered his strength and focused his will. The lighting in the room dimmed, and it felt as if a wind had come from nowhere. Spider web patterns appeared on the floor as tiles cracked under the weight of raw magical power, fueled by pure adrenaline and anger.

{*I AM YOUR MASTER NOW! DO AS I BID YOU!*}

The force behind the words was crushing and the snake sank to the floor, head low in obeisance.

*Massster. Asss you wisssh.*

Harry was trembling and drunk on the power that was coursing through him when the snake hurriedly slid into a pipe and vanished, departing for parts unknown. Harry’s gaze turned to Draco, who had collapsed in the corner.

Centuries of service to Dark powers had marked the Malfoys in ways other than simple tattoos and other trivial trappings of fleeting alliance. More than a thousand years, and almost every member of that ancient and eldritch house had been a Slytherin. In the core of their souls, good or evil, every Malfoy responded to power…and every Malfoy could feel the power inherent in Parseltongue. Although Draco couldn’t speak it himself, the very center of his being responded to it.

Harry stalked forward, and looked down at Draco’s prone and naked form. Draco was trembling from head to toe, and his eyes were glazed, as if in some trance, looking upward at Harry in awe.

Harry’s mind was still on fire with power, and the sight of Draco’s body at his feet, utterly submissive, excited him, flooded his senses with lust, and a dark and ugly temptation filled him.

{*You’re crawling for me. So beautiful, and you’re at my feet. Do you know how much I hunger for you?*}

Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head as if he was going to faint, and he laid his head on the tile in front of Harry’s nearest foot, almost mewling.

{*You understand me…don’t you? You know what power sounds like. You’d do anything I command, wouldn’t you? Sit up! On your knees.*}

Draco responded, gray eyes still glazed and pupils dilated. When he pulled himself onto his knees, Harry could see the blonde’s unrestrained erection pulsing and weeping, jutting outward from Draco’s lap.

{*I spared your life. I should own you by rights. I could take you right here. Force pleasures from you that you would never give freely. I could make you my toy…and you would beg for more, wouldn’t you.*}

Draco’s head lolled, and a soft whimper of assent could be heard from his throat. His cock twitched hard as harshly guttural and sleek sibilant words echoed through the room, and with every utterance from Harry, surges of lust and rising pleasure coursed through his groin.

Harry gave a feral smile, jade green eyes almost alight with power. Thoughts of Draco flickered through his head. Ugly, lustful thoughts that would never have occurred to him in a fully rational state. Thoughts of Draco pliant and made willing by Parseltongue, that beautiful arse taken roughly and plundered by Harry’s aching cock. The power to make Draco more a whore to him than EVER he had been for Draco…was more than in his grasp…it dripped from his very tongue! Harry grabbed Draco by the hair and leaned close to his blankly worshipful face.

{*I have more power over you than anyone has ever had. You owe me debt on top of debt now. How shall you repay me, Draco? Should I take what is owed me from your body?*}

Harry kissed the slack mouth that looked born for his pleasure as violently as he pleased, his tongue invading Draco’s waiting mouth and searching savagely, seeking to know every part of the prize that was his to claim.

Draco came spontaneously, an intoxicated moan rattling out of his chest while white gobs spattered across the tiles and Harry’s pants leg. He was almost limp in Harry’s grip, held from falling to the floor by the handful of hair that Harry clutched tightly. That moment of release from Draco sparked something familiar, affectionate, and human in Harry’s power saturated unconscious mind.

The rage…and the magic that came with it, began to slip away. Harry came back to himself, suddenly cognizant of what he was doing, and he gently lowered Draco to the floor, trembling with exhaustion and more than a little shame.

Draco’s eyes were still glazed with lust and awe, even though he lay there weak as a kitten. Harry knelt to the floor and pulled Draco half into his lap, cradling the traumatized blond as carefully as he could, whispering gentle words in Parseltongue to soothe the one he loved.

{*I could do all those things…but I wouldn’t. That’s how much I love you. I couldn’t hurt you. Even with all the power in the world, I wouldn’t use it to hurt you. It’s over, Draco. Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you, love.*}

Draco’s shaking began to subside while Harry stroked his back and held him close, and Harry cast an Enervate, hoping to snap Draco out of the shock-trance he was in. As soon as the spell hit, Draco crumpled in his arms and began to weep, muffled only by Harry’s robes.

Although Draco was beyond knowing it, and the hand that stroked his hair so gently never paused, hot tears were scalding their way down Harry’s cheeks all the while.

Harry wasn’t sure how much time passed. It could have been minutes or hours. Eventually, Draco began to stir in his arms, coherent at last. Dazed, unsteady, and with a furious blush rapidly spreading across his face and body, Draco stumbled upright and lurched toward his clothes, forced to stop by the sudden need to vomit.

Harry stepped forward to hold Draco steady, and was pushed away by a frantic arm.

“Are you alright? Do you need help? I’m here if…”

“No!” Draco’s voice was tremulous and hoarse, and a thread of desperation was clear in it.

“Go…go ‘way! Leave me…’lone.” Another string of bile erupted from Draco’s mouth, splashing onto the tiles of the floor.

Harry floundered, terrified and unsure of what to do.

“But-”

“GO! Get…out!”

Draco’s tone, however hoarse, left no doubt. He wouldn’t look Harry in the eyes, and kept his head turned away as best he could. Harry stepped back, burning with mingled sympathy and shame, knowing that whatever might have been possible between could well have been destroyed in a single night.

Harry picked up his cloak and walked for the door, while Draco retched noisily behind him. The sound of it stabbed into him and he paused one last time. Draco spoke before he could, this time softer and clearer than before.

“Please…please just go, Harry. Leave me alone…”

Harry sighed, turned away, and walked out into the halls of Hogwarts, opening his map and occasionally wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeves. If he couldn’t do anything else for Draco, an invisible guardian would make sure that Malfoy made it back to Slytherin intact. For now, that seemed to be all he could do. Zabini and Nott on the other hand, they were a different matter altogether, and Harry had some thoughts about what to do with them.


TBC!!