The Bargain
The Bargain
The Bargain
Draco Malfoy walked into the living room, immediately
moving towards the bar, and pouring himself a glass of
Firewhiskey.
"Merlin, that was unbearably awful," he said
distastefully, frowning in his glass and then downing it in
a single swallow.
"Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little?" his
wife asked him with amusement.
He gave her a dark look. "Exaggerating?" he asked,
feeling angrier by the second. "You were all over Potter!
Of all people. Hugging him and kissing his cheek. You
touched him. That's just disgusting," he said
with feeling.
She took off her cloak and unclasped her long blond hair,
sighing in relief as she did so. "That was necessary. I had
my reasons," she assured him distractedly, taking out a
soft handkerchief from the pocket of her cloak, holding it
rather carefully.
"Like what?" he said scathingly. "Making me jealous?"
She looked at him with an odd glint in her eyes. "That's
just an unexpected bonus, I assure you." She unfolded
the handkerchief and carefully took a single dark hair in
her hand. "I was getting this, actually," she said with a
smirk.
His expression turned eager, but then he sobered and
waved her off, pouring himself another drink. "Forget it.
I'm not doing anything illegal, especially against The Boy
Who Is Still Alive. I'm not an idiot."
His wife rolled her eyes. "Oh, Draco. I was thinking of
using this for something far more entertaining," she
purred, coming closer. "I'm sure you can figure it out,"
she whispered seductively.
Draco nearly coughed out his entire drink. "You want me
to ...?" he asked disbelievingly, looking both angry and
hurt.
"No," she soothed him quickly. "I thought I'll
take the Polyjuice."
Draco's mind froze. Surely, he was having some strange
dream, because it was simply impossible that his wife
just offered to Polyjuice into Harry — fucking —
Potter. Merlin, fucking Potter. Draco shook his
head. No, no, this was much too ridiculous. Granted, they
did this all the time, Polyjuiced into other people they
found attractive for each other's pleasure; male, female it
didn't really matter — he still couldn't stop laughing at
the muggle idea of role-playing. Silly muggles. However,
this was different. This was Potter. He didn't want Potter.
At all. Not even a little. He didn't want to touch the
four-eyed git. Ew. He immediately told his wife that.
"Ew," he declared forcefully. "Unless you're up for —
what's the Polyjuice's duration these days? — ah, three
hours of pure pain and no pleasure." He snorted in a very
un-Malfoy-like manner.
His wife seemed to quiver at his words, her breasts
heaving, and colour rising to her cheeks. "What if that's
exactly what I want?" she asked breathlessly.
Draco slowly drank up his second drink and took a deep
breath. "Oh." He tried to force his mind to think. That his
wife enjoyed some pain during their games was no
surprise, though she was usually very vocal about when,
where, and how. Spoil sport, he thought fondly.
But, still — this was Potter. Hmm, Potter, at his beck and
call. It could be interesting. "I suppose I could slap
Potter around a bit," he mused aloud.
"Of course you could!" She was practically bouncing with
excitement, and Draco knew this discussion was over.
"No rules. You can do what ever you want," she declared
emphatically.
Draco's eyes widened. "Are you sure?" he asked
seriously. "Because I hate Potter a lot ..."
"Oh never mind that. I said no rules," she answered
happily, but then sobered up quickly. "Well, no
unforgivables."
He gave her a half-glare. "You're a silly wife," he told her,
shaking his head — as though he would ever go that far.
Well, he was pretty sure he could cast them on
Potter, but not his wife.
"I'll go get ready," she exclaimed with a brilliant smile on
her face and moved towards the staircase. "Come
upstairs after fifteen minutes. Not sooner!"
"Get ready?" He frowned at her. "You just have to put
the hair in and drink it."
"Do you really want to see Potter in this?" She pointed at
her silky red dress.
Draco laughed. "Well, it would be entertaining ... Wait, no,
no. I'd be scarred for life. Go! Change!" he said quickly,
shaking off some disturbing mental images.
He took off his cloak and poured himself another glass of
Firewhiskey, but then decided no to drink it. He amused
himself with possibilities of what he could do to 'Potter'.
His wife was desperate for something wild, that much
was obvious, though it was incredibly odd for her not to
give him precise rules, but free hands.
After exactly fifteen minutes, he ran upstairs to their
bedroom, and paused in front of the door to take a deep
breath. He felt a little giddy, all due to too much
Firewhiskey, no doubt.
He opened the door and walked in, his gaze immediately
falling on the figure standing at the foot of the large
four-poster bed.
Shocked for a moment, even though he knew what he'd
find, but it was fucking Potter. Draco swallowed
and forced himself to move a little closer, but not too
close. The door snapped shut behind him.
It was definitely Potter, looking just like he did today
when he last saw him, except ...
"You're wearing Hogwarts robes," Draco managed to say
disbelievingly.
"I thought you might find it more interesting," his wife said
with Potter's voice.
"I can believe you even have Potter's stupid glasses,"
Draco said, honestly bewildered.
"Mmm, an exact replica," Potter replied with amusement.
"I'm rather surprised you recognise them."
"They're the ugliest thing I ever saw. Of course I
recognise them," he bit out defensively, and then came a
little closer. "I'm taller," he said proudly.
"Barely an inch," Potter complained.
"Did I give you permission to speak, Potter?" he hissed,
nearly overwhelmed with the feeling of power when
Potter actually pressed his lips together and shut up.
He came as close as he could, without stepping on Potter's shoes and peered in Potter's face, carefully examining it.
What an ugly bastard.
Well, his lips weren't bad, full and just the right colour,
not girly red, but still ... nice. Though, Draco was not going
to kiss Potter. As if. Pretty lips or not.
His hair was awful. It was everywhere, falling all over his
head, in his eyes — Sweet Merlin, are those
green! — and over his scar.
Oh wow, Draco swallowed. The famous scar was right
there. Entranced, Draco reached out with one pale finger
and touched it. Potter tensed as Draco trailed his finger
over it.
"How does that feel?" he asked curiously.
"Nice," was the somewhat shaky answered, and Draco
privately commended his wife for superb acting abilities.
Potter really looked nervous, and ... Potterish.
Draco pulled his hand away quickly, realising he was
caressing the bastard.
"I hate that tie," he said and pulled on it harshly making
Potter stumble forward a little. Heh. "Take it
off!" he ordered and Potter started to undo it
immediately. "The stupid robe too. It has a Gryffindor
crest on it. It's vomit inducing."
Amazed, he watched as Potter obeyed his every word.
This sudden power was making him dizzy and really hard.
Oh Merlin, he could make Potter ... Draco
swallowed and mourned the full glass of Firewhiskey in
the living room. He should have drunk it. He needed it.
Potter was standing in front of him in his pants —
much too tight, that wasn't how they wore them in
school — and shirt — too tight and transparent,
honestly, he could see his nipples!
Draco tore his gaze from Potter's nipples and looked at
his face, smirking. "On your knees, Potter." Oh Merlin, he
could come just from this — ordering Potter around — and
Potter obeyed without as much as a blink. He dropped
down and knelt in front of Draco Malfoy. Draco laughed,
happy and aroused. "That's where you belong, Potter,"
he said with conviction.
Potter didn't say a word, but he was breathing heavily.
"Oh you like that, don't you? Kneeling before me like a
little slut," Draco purred. "Say it!" he ordered.
"I like it," Potter said in a scratchy voice.
Draco bit his lip and grinned. "What do you like, Potter?"
he asked, grabbing Potter's chin — forgetting again that
he didn't want to touch Potter — and lifted his head so
Potter would look at him.
Green gaze locked with his, and Potter said, "I like
kneeling before you ... like a slut," he acknowledged
obediently.
Suddenly realising that he was touching Potter's oddly
soft skin, which made his thumb trail slow circles
on it — Draco felt his anger rise. Bloody Potter. Having
perfect skin. That was a Malfoy trait. He raised his hand
and slapped the perfect-skinned bastard. Hard. His open
palm connected satisfyingly with Potter's cheek, and
Potter clenched his jaw and shut his eyes for a moment,
but didn't make a sound. Still, there was now a red
imprint of Draco's hand on Potter's face and that made
Draco feel much better.
Something flickered in Potter's eyes and Draco almost
laughed. "Oh you like that too!" he said as he slapped his
other cheek even harder with the back of his hand, and
this time Potter did yelp, his breath hitching and his head
swinging to the side from the force of the impact. "Now
you look so much better," Draco said honestly, enjoying
the red marks on Potter's face. "Now you can have the
immense privilege of sucking a Malfoy cock," he declared
and Potter shuddered.
Draco put his hand on Potter's head and ran his fingers
through that awful hair — surprisingly soft though, quite
pleasant actually. He pushed on the back of Potter's head
and buried Potter's face in his groin. "Oh you're going to
like that," he said, rubbing himself through his clothes
into Potter's abused face. "Won't you?" he said harshly,
pulling Potter's hair, and making him look up at Draco
again.
"Yes, I'll love sucking your cock," Potter said compliantly
and by the looks of it, honestly.
"Fast learner," Draco praised, and then quickly opened
his pants and pushed them down together with his
boxers, revealing his perfect, Malfoy cock, in his humble,
impartial opinion.
Potter licked his lips and seemed to agree, staring
indecently at Draco's cock bobbing right in front of his
face.
"Well?" Draco prompted, his whole body on edge, and
added, "No hands," when Potter moved his arm towards
Draco.
Potter swallowed and stuck out his tongue, licking the
head of the cock, lifting his gaze upwards.
Lost for words, not remembering the last time he felt so
aroused, Draco buried his hands in Potter's silky mane.
"Go on," he prompted unnecessarily, because Potter was
lapping on his cock like his life depended on it, flicking
his tongue expertly, and then slowly pulled it inside his
mouth a little, sucking and slurping, making the most
indecent sounds.
Horrified, Draco heard himself whimper and angered, he
pushed himself forcefully in Potter's warm, perfect
mouth. Oh Merlin! Potter chocked and gasped,
swallowing desperately. Draco pushed hard, burying
Potter's nose in his pubic hair, feeling Potter's stupid
glasses on the skin above.
Potter was making all kinds of sounds now. He was
groaning and whimpering while he struggled to breathe,
but eventually it turned into moaning and Draco felt the
most beautiful suction that was slowly increasing in
intensity.
Draco pulled out a little and holding Potter firmly in place
with both hands, slammed cruelly in Potter's mouth
again. Potter was more ready this time, but he still
yelped or he would have if he was able, but Draco kept
fucking his mouth forcefully, squishing Potter's nose, as
he slammed hard, making Potter's glasses go askew. Potter
struggled to keep up, groaning and swallowing with each
thrust, but he had no choice than to allow his mouth to be
used for Draco's pleasure.
Draco felt his orgasm rush forward much too soon and he
took one moment to admire those perfect lips around his
cock, and green eyes that looked at him suddenly, and
with a groan he spilled himself down Potter's throat,
making him swallow everything.
Potter moaned, the slut, and kept licking and
sucking until Draco pulled him by the hair and stopped
him.
"Not bad," Draco praised shakily, pulling his pants up, barely standing. "Get up, and take your clothes off," he
ordered, grinning at the prominent bulge in Potter's
pants.
Potter unbuttoned his shirt with shaky fingers and took it
off to reveal ... Bloody Potter, Draco thought with
a touch of envy at Potter's chiselled chest.
Potter took off his shoes and socks, and then fumbled
with his pants, finally pulling them off, glancing at Draco.
"Go on," Draco prompted automatically, and Potter's
boxers followed the pants immediately.
It figures, Draco pouted a little, that Potter
would have such a perfect cock. Idiot. Looking at
Potter's face and seeing Potter's lips twitch, Draco
realized he was caught staring. Oh, he thought this was funny, did he?
"Get on the bed on all fours, face down, arse in the air."
Potter's breath hitched a little and the bastard actually
looked hopeful. He turned without a word and got on the
bed, settling himself in the required position.
Draco's cock twitched bravely at the view of Potter's
well-formed buttocks. "S-spread your legs." Oh fuck,
did he actually stutter?
Potter obeyed, exposing himself unashamedly and Draco
was seized with a mad desire to shove his cock into
Potter's pink entrance. But, no, he would not fuck
Potter. He pointed his wand at Potter's anus, and
muttered the Lubrication Charm. Potter gasped and
circled his hips a little, wriggling his arse. The slut.
"Stretch yourself with your fingers," Draco ordered,
feeling himself harden at his own words. There was a
pregnant pause and Draco thought that Potter would disobey ... which would be fine with Draco, because then
he would have to punish him. But, soon enough, Potter
reached with his hand between his legs and slowly
pushed a finger inside himself.
Draco felt a sudden urge to whimper, and the heat in the
room became unbearable. He took off his clothes not
moving his gaze from Potter's hand. Potter moved his
fingers expertly, the filthy whore, adding a
second finger quickly, and moaning as he worked his
arse, impaling himself on his own hand, and groaning in
both pain and pleasure as he shoved three fingers inside.
"That's the hottest think I saw in my life." Did I say
that aloud? "Stop!"
Potter stopped immediately and moved his hand away so
he was resting on his elbows again. His head was buried
in the sheets, and his opening was well-stretched and
wet just waiting for Draco to ... No, no, no. He would
not fuck Potter.
Draco walked towards the night-cabinet next to the bed
and took out the biggest dildo from his wife's collection.
Potter looked at him with wide eyes, but he wasn't
looking at the dildo, but at Draco's naked form. Draco
shook his head in slight disbelief. His wife was a really
good actress, to pull out such an honest look of surprise at
seeing him naked.
"Want me to fuck you, Potter?" Draco smirked.
"Yes." Potter gulped, looking at the dildo with some
distaste.
"Maybe if you'll be a good boy," Draco considered.
Potter shuddered and bit his lip, clenching his fists, and
shifting restlessly on the bed. Draco got a little closer and
whispered, "Come before I allow you and you'll find out
just how nasty I can get. You won't be able to sit for
weeks and no healing charm will help you."
Potter quivered and nodded quickly, gripping the sheets more firmly. Draco levitated the dildo towards Potter's arse, and
placed the tip to his entrance, making him shudder. Draco
controlled the thing with his wand, first slicking it with
another spell, and then rubbing it along Potter's cleft.
Potter moaned and moved with the dildo trying to get it
inside himself.
Draco complied with that, placing the dildo carefully and
pushing in slowly, while Potter wriggled his arse
helpfully, taking it in with a moan. He's enjoying this
too much, Draco concluded, before he made the
dildo slam inside with a single hard thrust.
Potter howled and cursed, lifting his head and curving his
spine, but Draco felt no need to give him respite. He
moved his wand and the dildo started to thrust ruthlessly
inside Potter's arse.
Potter was groaning and yelping and whimpering, but
eventually ended up taking each thrust with a small
Oh! and a helpful jerk of his hips.
Draco's cock was throbbing in almost pain and he felt
sweat break out all over his body. This was just ...
"Engorgio!" Draco yelled at the dildo and then
made it go faster in addition of making it bigger. Instead
of crying out in pain, the bastard gave a long moan and
started shuddering, the little Oh-sounds
speeding up with the dildo, and damn it all, Draco
couldn't take this anymore.
The dildo flew to the other end of the room and with a
growl, Draco was on the bed in an instant, and entered
Potter in one smooth stroke.
"Oh!" came out of Draco's mouth and for a few
moments, he was shell-shocked at the perfect feeling of
Potter's warmth around him. Potter made a sound as
though of relief, and started to move immediately,
impaling himself and making Draco forget every
conscious thought.
Potter's shuddering moan of pleasure brought him to
reality and suddenly he realized that he was letting Potter
set the pace. Annoyed, he pulled out, ignoring the awful
feeling of loss, as well as Potter's incoherent protests,
and ordered, "Turn over. On your back."
Potter obeyed slowly, moving with difficulty and trying to
place his legs somewhere, which was hard with Draco in
the way. Draco solved the problem by grabbing Potter's
arse and placing it firmly in his lap. Oh, that was
much better. He'd show Potter whose game was this.
Potter was having some difficulties with breathing and
green eyes burned with need. His cock, if possible, was
even bigger and leaking pre-cum.
Draco grabbed himself with one hand and spread Potter's
arse cheeks with the other, and then shoved inside
slowly, enjoying the feeling, and Potter's groan — Merlin, he sounded like he was dying.
Draco held Potter's arse and moved unhurriedly, taking
the time to enjoy in every thrust. He was pulling out
steadily, dragging his cock over Potter's prostate, making
Potter moan out that dying sound, and then thrust in
hard, earning that small Oh sound from Potter's
mouth.
Draco was lost in the feel of Potter, in the sounds he
made and in the intoxicating scent of sex. This
was ... heaven.
He opened his eyes, unaware he closed them and saw
Potter stroking himself in time with Draco's thrusts. Lovely
as that was, Draco made a rule.
Growling he grabbed Potter's cock at the base, making
him cry out, his eyes snapping open. "What did I tell you,
Potter?" Draco asked dangerously, stopping all
movement.
Potter's eyes widened and he removed his hands from his
cock quickly and placed them next to his head in
surrender. Draco shook his head and tutted. "Bad Potter.
I'll have to punish you for that ... later," he declared and
rose up a little and leaned in, bending Potter double with
ease, making him yelp.
He felt a rush of power that took his breath away. He grabbed Potter's wrists to hold him down firmly, and gazed at his former school rival, trapped and helpless beneath him.
Potter was shuddering and staring at Draco with
wide-eyes, so clearly burning with want, Draco felt dizzy
at the thought of how much Potter needed him.
Draco started to move suddenly, slamming inside Potter
and never moving his gaze from Potter's face,
memorizing every detail about it. How with every thrust
his long, dark lashes fluttered, and his lips formed a
perfect O. How he would bite his lip if Draco thrust
harder. How his head moved left and right when he hit
his prostate.
Draco felt his balls tighten and nearly regretted it was
almost over, he tried to hold off, not wanting it to end,
but his orgasm rushed forward and Draco emptied
himself inside Potter's arse, yelling something, but he
didn't know what.
He must have blacked out because the next thing he felt
was warm, hard chest beneath his cheek.
He scrambled away quickly and pulled out of Potter's
body carefully, forgetting temporarily that he didn't have
to be so careful because this was bloody Potter.
Your wife actually, a part of his brain tried to
remind him. He ignored it.
Potter was lying on his back, still hard and needy, with
bruises on his wrists and his cheek where Draco slapped
him earlier.
"I'll have to punish you now," Draco said happily, licking
his lips. Potter was seemingly unable to decide if that
aroused him or scared him.
"Get up. Turn around. On your knees." Draco winced at
his inability to form a complete sentence. Potter complied
with supreme difficulty, barely moving. But eventually he
managed to turn away from Draco and he knelt, sitting
on his heals.
Draco found his wand lying disregarded on the bed,
waved it and bound Potter's hands to the roof of the bed
with long chains.
Potter yelped in surprise and pain when the bindings
pulled him up, forcing him to lift his arse. Draco arranged
the height so that Potter's knees barely scraped the bed, ensuring that his position was sufficiently uncomfortable.
"What are you going to do?" Potter asked with a hint of
fear, to Draco's immense pleasure.
Draco slapped his arse, making Potter yelp in surprise.
"Did I say you could speak now? Hmm ... that's another
ten."
"Another ten of what?" Potter asked just as Draco knew
he would, so he laughed as he got up and went to
retrieve a paddle out of his wife's cabinet.
"And that's another ten. Keep going Potter. Please."
Draco smirked.
Potter gulped after seeing the paddle,
and his breathing sped up, but he fell quiet. Draco stood
next to the bed, where Potter's arse was at the arm's
reach and declared, "You'll get thirty strokes. Count them
aloud. If you miss one, that's your problem." Without
waiting for Potter to assimilate these rules, he brought
the paddle hard on his arse. Potter yelled, pulling on
his binds, and forgetting to count. Idiot.
Draco swung again, this time aiming for Potter's thighs.
"One!" Potter yelled breathlessly.
Draco chuckled, and continued, easing out a little until
Potter calmed down, and then he hit the sensitive skin on
the top of Potter's thighs, as hard as he could.
"NINE!" Potter cried out, writhing and pulling on the
chains, desperately trying to get away from the paddle.
Draco eased off again, while Potter panted out numbers.
By the time they reached twenty-five, the lovely arse in
front of Draco was beautifully red and heated, and Potter
had screamed himself hoarse.
He was whimpering and even sniffing a little. "Please,"
he panted out and Draco stopped.
"What was that, Potter?"
"Please, I need to ..." Potter trailed off and Draco saw
that he was still hard. Kinky bastard.
Chucking the paddle and taking his wand, he released
Potter from the binds and Potter collapsed on the bed,
groaning pathetically.
Draco placed his hand on the small of Potter's back and
said, "We're not done with your punishment. Five more."
Potter made a chocking sound and tried to get away, but
it was ridiculously easy to stop him from moving. Draco
brought his hand down, slapping Potter's abused arse
and Potter yelped out, "Twenty-six!"
"Four more," Draco soothed, separating his hand from the
heated cheeks with difficulty. It felt so nice to caress the
skin there, though it made Potter whimper in pain. Or perhaps because it made Potter whimper in pain.
He delivered three more smacks in quick succession and
Potter fumbled with numbers and missed one.
"Two more," Draco promised, squeezing the red flesh a
little, and then slapped hard, making Potter buck and
grip out, "Twenty-nine!" After another stinging slap,
Potter yelled, "Thirty!" with an air of relief.
Draco got on the bed, hard again, and ordered. "Come
here."
Potter got up slowly, whimpering insistently, and all but
crawled towards Draco, yelping when Draco grabbed his
arse and pulled him on his lap so he was facing him.
Potter seemed very surprised with this sudden close
position and stared at Draco through crooked glasses.
Without thinking, Draco reached out to fix them.
Not able to help himself, Draco leaned in and captured Potter's full lower lip with his lips. Potter stilled and Draco felt dizzy with sudden need, and all he could do that would make sense was to thrust his tongue inside Potter's mouth. His heart beat faster when Potter answered eagerly. He grabbed the messy locks, angled Potter's head so he could ravish Potter's mouth properly.
He felt his cock twitch when Potter started to suck on his
tongue, moaning like a freaking girl. He tore his
mouth away from Potter's, regretfully, and grabbed his
arse, lifting him up a little.
Hissing in pain, but realizing Draco's intention, Potter
moved helpfully and managed, with Draco's guidance, to
impale himself on Draco's cock.
They both moaned, and Potter started to move almost
immediately, speeding up the pace, driven with pure
need that was apparent on his face.
Draco lay back, mesmerised with the image of Potter
riding him like there was no tomorrow. Draco's hands flew
on their own accord towards Potter's cock, and green
eyes snapped open to look at him with ridiculous
gratitude. Potter sped up even more, practically jumping.
Draco moved his hands and his hips in tandem, bucking
upwards hard, making Potter gasp and then scream as
Draco pulled on his cock.
This moment will haunt me for years, Draco
thought with some sadness as Potter writhed and
screamed above him, spilling himself all over Draco's
hands and stomach. Potter's arse was clenching around
him, and Draco's own orgasm caught him by surprise. He
moaned for a long time while Potter's inner muscles
massaged his cock.
Blinking slowly, Draco looked at Potter who was still straddling
him. His head was bent and he was breathing shallowly.
As though he felt Draco was watching him, Potter raised
his head and looked at him, searching for something in
Draco's expression. He must have found it because he
lifted himself slowly and moved towards Draco.
"Stop!" Draco raised his hand. "You made such a mess,
Potter. Clean it up."
Potter paused and looked at his cum spread all over
Draco's raised hand and stomach. "But ..." He looked at
Draco's wand hopefully.
"No, no. Use what you got," Draco instructed wisely.
Potter gulped and took a deep breath and then leaned in,
licking at Draco's stomach carefully. Apparently deciding
it wasn't that bad, he started to lick it of in earnest with
long swipes of his tongue. As Potter's tongue dipped in
his navel, Draco wondered if he could possibly get it up
again. And when Potter took Draco's fingers in his mouth
and sucked on them almost greedily, Draco was sure that
he could get it up again.
But then Potter looked somewhere in the distance and his
eyes widened and Draco's fingers were released from
Potter's warm mouth with a wet slurp.
"I have to go!" Potter almost yelped.
"Go?" Draco asked, shocked and confused.
"The Polyjuice will stop working soon," Potter explained
quickly, getting up and gathering his clothes.
Draco suddenly felt like he'd been hit with a Bludger. Of
course, Polyjuice. He remembered that.
"But, where are you going?" Draco asked reasonably,
ignoring the sudden feeling of loss.
"Well," Potter paused wide-eyed, "I just don't want you
to see me transforming. It's an ugly picture and I might
get queasy and vomit. I should be in the bathroom,"
Potter — his wife — explained, wincing as
she was putting her clothes on.
"But, why are you getting dressed?" Draco asked,
bewildered.
Potter paused and stared at Draco for a few moments,
but then his face brightened. "I'll show you."
Clasping his cloak, Potter came closer while Draco stared
at him in disbelief, and slight worry at Potter's intense
gaze. "You actually put your cloak on." Draco shook his
head.
"So this would feel more real," Potter murmured as
though that made any sense. Draco had no time to ask
what the fuck was he talking about, because he was
suddenly in Potter's arms, and his head was tipped and
Potter's mouth crashed into his.
Draco could confirm with certainty that nobody ever
kissed him like that — with ravishing passion, which
made him forget to breathe as if he was an inexperienced
teenager. Potter's tongue invaded Draco's mouth
possessively and Draco let out an embarrassing whimper,
and held on for dear life.
It ended too soon and Draco was still dizzy when Potter
brought his lips to his ear and murmured, "We should do
this again." Potter's teeth grazed Draco's earlobe, and
then tugged on it a little, making Draco gasp. "You could
be my bitch." He felt Potter smile.
"Sure," Draco answered before he even registered what
he was agreeing to, and then shuddered after he realized
it. "You're not going to get Potter's hair again," he
reasoned.
"I'll manage," Potter said with a brilliant smile that
lit up the room, and rushed inside the bathroom,
leaving Draco feeling cold and empty.
He entered the bathroom and gave a sigh of relief.
"Right on time," his own voice sneered at him and he
turned around to see the exact replica of himself, sitting
on the edge of the bathroom, with his legs crossed in a
very lady-like manner.
"Urgh," he groaned. "Don't sit like that. It's bizarre."
The other Potter laughed. "That's hilarious. You
complaining about bizarre."
He gave a sheepish grin, and then stopped when the
other started heaving and shuddering, and then
transforming in front of his eyes. Dark hair turned to
blond, green eyes to blue, and soon Draco Malfoy's wife
stood before him.
"Did you have fun?" he asked.
"Oh yes! Your wife is such a vixen. You lucky thing!" she
said delightedly. "Such talented mouth!"
"If there's a scratch on her ..." he threatened.
"Oh, don't worry. I was a perfect gentleman." She eyed
him carefully. "It looks like my husband wasn't."
"You told him to do that," he accused.
"Of course, don't pretend you're not a kinky bastard,
Harry." She smiled, walking towards the bathroom exit.
"You should heal that." She waved towards his cheek.
"We don't want Ginny suspecting."
"I will." He nodded.
She paused at the door and walked back towards him, running her fingers through his hair and than pulling out a single strand.
Harry smiled. "So there's a next time?'
"Definitely."