To Give Everything

Betas: LBaum, Mini Mouse, asm614 and Indie.
Warnings: DH Spoilers. BDSM and Explicit M/M sex – oral, anal, rimming, felching, fisting, bondage, different kinds of spanking/whipping, D/s (top!Draco, bottom!Harry).
Notes: Post-DH, No Epilogue. Written as part of the hd_inspired “Back to School” Fest.

The Room excited him more than anything had in a long time. The last year for Draco had been spent in the grip of fear and a haze of depression. So little had mattered other than staying alive. Now, with the Dark Lord gone, Draco found he hadn’t been able to show much interest in anything. At his mother’s urging, he had returned to Hogwarts to complete his 'eighth year' and his N.E.W.T.s. His parents lectured him about restoring the family name and thinking of his future. He didn’t care. Didn’t care about much of anything. Until he found it.

It had been on one of Draco’s night-time explorations in the dungeons that he discovered what he thought of as The Room. He had no idea how old it was or if anyone else knew about it. He wondered about comments he had heard Filch make about flogging students in the past and considered now if that could actually be true.

Although it was clean and orderly, it still had the feel of a place that hadn’t been used in a very long time. It was, he realised, a torture chamber. There were various types of instruments. There were, of course, shackles both on the walls and hanging from the beams across the ceiling. And an array of devices: medieval looking stocks, a stretching rack, a St Andrews cross, an Iron-Maiden, and more. There was a brazier with coals and an array of what he imagined were branding irons. There were hooks on the walls with all sorts of implements – hardwood paddles, long thin canes, leather straps and whips, all of various sizes and shapes. They were so well preserved, the wood fresh and polished, the leather supple, that he wondered again about when they had last been used.

Draco spent hours exploring The Room, touching and playing with the things in there. He had sneaked into the Restricted Section of the library and found , A Wizard’s Guide to Pain for Pleasure and Punishment by Dom Strict and another book on Effective and Fun Torture by Femme Fatale. Draco lifted them from the library. From these he was able to not only figure out what the things in the room could be used for but to also begin fantasising about them himself. He practised. He took a pillow off one of the unused beds in his dorm and Transfigured it into a kind of human shaped dummy, spending hours paddling, caning and flogging it until it burst, feathers floating around the room.

The problem was that, as much as he liked the idea of trying some of these things on a live person, he was not willing to go to Azkaban for the pleasure of it. He had to find a willing partner in this game. Yet, given his reputation, he hardly felt in a position to even bring the topic up with anyone else. Who would trust him? And could be trusted not to tell?

***

It was as if his feet had a mind of their own, carrying him up the stairs and out into the night. Draco had purposefully avoided the Astronomy Tower. Actually, he'd avoided any of the towers, since that awful night at the end of sixth year. He had even dropped Astronomy class last year. All to stay as far away from this place as possible. Even now, in the 'eighth year' – or retake of seventh now that Death Eaters were no longer in charge – he still had avoided the class.

Now Draco stood under the stars in the cool clear air of a September night, looking out over the very same spot where Dumbledore had plummeted to the ground. He found himself slowly walking around the edge of the tower, hands sliding along the crenulated parapets.

***

It was yet another long night for Harry, and for what was probably the tenth night in a row, he was walking through the halls alone. After everything that had happened, the last battle, Voldemort's defeat, and the deaths of friends, Harry had had enough. He wanted to be left alone, and no one really understood that. They kept trying to make him talk about what happened. Yet, to Harry, there really wasn't much more to say. What was done was done, and as much as he wished to change it, that wasn't possible.

Ginny had broken up with him earlier that month because she said that he wasn't the same Harry he used to be; that there was no longer a connection between them. Harry took it in stride because, really, he didn't feel like holding on to the 'relationship' that Ginny had wanted. Besides, he heard she was going for Neville or something like that. Harry thought that was great. Really.

He ended up walking up to the Astronomy Tower before he even realised it. He headed towards the edge, glancing up at the stars as he did. He didn't realise just how tired he was until that moment.

Draco heard the door open, and ducked into the shadows, not wanting anyone to see him up there. Most of the time, he avoided other students anyway. Only half of the Slytherins of his year had returned and there was a lot of resentment from the rest of the school because of their very presence. Now, annoyed at being trapped with someone between him and the door, Draco drew his wand and looked around the corner to see who it was. Potter. Fuck.

Harry turned and leaned against the stone edge, still staring up at the sky. It was a little chilly, but the breeze was nice for him, making it easier for him to shake out his hair. Hermione had said something about him needing a haircut but, to be honest, Harry didn't care about that. He didn't care about how he looked. He didn't want to care. That's what he was tired of, responsibility. From the time he was eleven he’d basically had the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, and now that it was all over, finally really over, he didn't want to have to deal with it anymore. "I'm so tired," he said to himself, crossing his arms over his chest and sighing.

Draco had been about to move, to try to inch around and make for the door before Potter spotted him. Now he found himself nearly holding his breath, listening and watching.

"It's finally over, but at what cost? So many good witches and wizards are gone, and while I tried, I wish I could've done better," Harry continued, just speaking for the sake of letting it out. "But what can I do now? I can live on. But what for? I don't want anything, nothing, to be my responsibility now. I've had enough of that. It may be selfish or whatever, but ...." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I can't make myself care."

Draco had no idea why Potter was talking to himself. He certainly couldn't be talking to Draco. And he was even more shocked by what Potter was saying. He found himself really looking at him. He looked worn, all right. Face pale in the dim light, dark circles under his eyes. In the month since they had returned, Draco had been trying so hard to avoid Potter, to avoid conflict, that he hadn't noticed the state of 'The Saviour' of wizardom. Draco bit the inside of his own lip, wondering what to do with this information. He was surprised to find himself moved by the lost sound in Potter's voice.

"Besides," Harry murmured, his voice lowering a little as he looked down at the grounds below him. "I deserve a rest, right? It's only fair."

Potter wasn't thinking of doing something stupid like jumping off the damn tower, was he? Draco wasn't sure and it worried him that it worried him. He hadn't realised that he had taken a step forward until there was a slight crunching sound of a pebble underfoot.

Harry's head snapped up as soon as he heard the sound, turning to see from where it had come. There was someone there and his hand immediately went for his wand, his heart beginning to beat quickly. But then he saw light blond hair in the moonlight, and that could only belong to one person in the school. "Malfoy?" he asked, trying not to sound as embarrassed as he really was. There was no doubt the man had been there the entire time, just listening.

Draco fought the urge to draw his own wand and stepped out of the shadow instead, waiting to see what Potter would do. He noticed Potter’s wand trembled. This is the man who destroyed Voldemort? he thought. He had been right there, had seen it himself. But now Potter looked as unsteady as Longbottom had in first year.

"What the hell are you doing?" Harry asked, his voice coming out harshly in an effort to cover for his surprise.

Draco smiled slowly, cocking his head. He continued to move forward then, just as slow as his smile but watching Potter intently. He didn't stop until he was standing directly in front of him, his slight height difference letting him look down into the other man’s face. "Standing on a tower in the night," he whispered.

Harry couldn't help it, he took a small unsteady step back, not sure if he liked how ... calm Malfoy was. "Yeah, spying on me," he said, his wand lowering a little, but he didn't put it away.

"I was here first," Draco said calmly. Never before had he felt so much in control around Potter. Seeing how vulnerable the other was had made him feel somehow stronger. "You're the one who’s into spying, if I remember correctly."

"Still, that doesn't matter," Harry huffed, scowling and finally letting his wand hand drop. He had no idea why he was getting so flustered about this. It was probably because he knew Malfoy had heard everything he had just said. "You could've left or something, instead of just standing there. That's rude."

"Rude is hardly an insult coming from you," Draco quipped, but smiled. He liked that he made the other man uncomfortable. He stepped forward, closing in on Potter's retreat as he was now backed against the stone rampart of the tower.

"What, would you rather me call you a bloody stupid wanker?" Harry asked, swallowing and feeling his heart speed up again as he was pressed back against the railing. He shook his head, refusing to let Malfoy get the best of him. He lifted his wand again, poking Malfoy in the side. "What are you doing?!"

Draco arched an eyebrow, enjoying the way the other man’s eyes widened and his face flushed. "I am standing here," he said calmly. "Does that bother you?"

"Yes, it bothers me!" Harry exclaimed, hoping Malfoy didn't notice the shakiness of his voice. "Move!"

"Put your wand away," Draco said. His voice was firm but soft.

"Why? No," Harry answered quickly, shaking his head.

Never taking his eyes from Potter's, Draco reached and took the man’s wrist in his hand, holding it in place so Potter couldn't raise it. He moved so close now that he could feel Potter's breath, fast and nervous, against his own lips. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

Harry swallowed again, staring up into Malfoy's eyes as he weakly tried to pull his wrist away. He didn't know what he wanted, but he didn't think it was this. Whatever this was. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Draco reached his other hand and took the wand from Potter's hand, then tucked it into the pocket of the other man’s robe. He didn't release Potter's wrist. "Should I show you?" he asked, his own heart beating faster. He could feel Potter's pulse quicken, too.

Harry still wasn't sure what Malfoy wanted to show him. He was curious, but obviously still cautious. This was Malfoy, even though he wasn't acting the same way. "I don't know about that," he mumbled, sounding unsure. He shouldn't even have been considering it.

"That's not a no," Draco said, smirking a bit. He took Potter's other wrist with his other hand and drew both of them back behind the man. It brought his own arms around him, of course, the fabric of their robes touching now and Draco knew all he would have to do is pull the tiniest bit and he could have Potter's body pressed to and trapped against his own.

For a brief moment Harry thought Malfoy would shove him off the tower in some sort of twisted revenge, but when he looked back up into his eyes, he knew the other man wouldn’t do that. “Seriously, Malfoy," Harry tried again, wanting to try and pull his wrists away, but then that would probably lead to them being closer somehow.

Draco put Potter's wrists together, wrapping the fingers of one hand around both, holding them tight behind the man’s back. Then he put his free hand on the centre of Potter's back, fingers spread apart as he pressed him to himself. His own body reacted with a rush of heat that was better than a Warming Charm and he sucked in a breath before speaking. "I am very serious," he answered.

"Then will you please tell me what you're doing?" Harry quickly said, his eyes widening again when their bodies were pressed together. He did not like this. He didn't.

"I am touching you," Draco said, with a quirk of his lips at the obvious. "And I am going to kiss you."

Harry went still when he heard that, staring at Malfoy as if he were expecting him to say that he was joking and that he'd never do that.

"W-why?" he asked when Malfoy didn't continue.

Draco didn't answer. Not with words. Instead, he brought his mouth down over Potter's, arms around the man tightening.

Harry kept his eyes open, a million thoughts going through his head. This was Malfoy, the one man he never got along with in school, the one who broke his nose out of spite and left Harry paralysed under his Invisibility Cloak. After all the things Malfoy had done to him, now he was kissing him. To his own shock, Harry found he was trying his best not to let himself give in and admit just how good it felt. It didn't seem to cross his mind that Malfoy was a bloke; that didn't seem to matter. It was Malfoy.

Draco felt the shudder and even more, he felt that Potter wasn't pulling away. Wasn't even trying to push him off. Draco sucked on the man’s bottom lip, rubbing himself against Potter's body.

Harry didn't realise he had closed his eyes until they flew open when Malfoy started moving against him. He could feel his own body reacting and didn't know what to do. He had never been in this situation before. "Wait," he gasped, pulling his head back and turning away so that Malfoy's lips were on his cheek.

Draco did, pulling only his head back, and waiting.

Harry was panting softly, not exactly sure why he said wait. "I don't ...." He shook his head and swallowed again, not looking at the other man. He realised that he seemed to like having someone take over like this for once, but he was still very wary.

"You don't what, Potter?" Draco asked. "Because you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this. I can feel you are." He ground his thigh into the other man’s crotch to emphasise his point.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head again, biting his lip to stop himself from making an embarrassing noise. "I can't, I just ... I ...." He was breathing harder, his eyes still squeezed tightly shut. It felt like his heart was trying to hammer through his chest.

"You don't have to decide anything except when to say no," Draco said. "If you don't tell me to stop, I am not going to."

"No," Harry moaned, not sure if he was saying it because he wanted Malfoy to stop or because he didn't want him to stop. He tried to take deeper breaths, knowing that he needed to relax, but he felt as though he couldn't. "I can't ... I can't ...." He might've been overreacting, but he really felt like he couldn't catch his breath. He didn't think he liked that Malfoy made him feel like that.

"That's a shame," Draco said, his own arousal throbbing. He gave the man another pull, his thigh rubbing Harry's clearly hard cock through his trousers. Then he released him abruptly, stepping back.

Harry stumbled forward a little at the sudden movement. He bent over slightly and rested his hands on his thighs as he worked to breathe more slowly, feeling tired even though nothing really happened.

Draco's hard-on was tight and uncomfortable, but he wanted control, not just sex. From Potter's reaction, he thought he might be able to get the second if he just pushed. He didn't want a quick fuck, though. He wanted Potter's submission. "Let me know if you change your mind," he said, turning to leave.

Harry looked up when he spoke, watching him walk away and feeling the urge to follow or stop him. "Wait," he said before Malfoy could reach the door.

Draco paused, looking back over his shoulder. He tried to look like it didn't matter, one eyebrow arched.

Harry felt he must've looked horrible, but then again, he was sure he didn't look too great before what just happened. Not that he cared. "What exactly do you want from me?" he asked, standing up straighter.

"Everything," Draco said, smiling and turning his back on the other man.

Everything. Harry had been denying it so much, but now that he thought about it, that was just what he wanted. Someone to take that load, that shouldn't have been there in the first place, off his shoulders and let him not be in control for once. But was he ready for that? Letting him, Malfoy of all people, decide what to do with him?

He took off his glasses and used the sleeve of his robes to clean them, sighing softly and leaning back against the railing again. "I will think about it," he finally said, pushing his glasses back on to look at Malfoy.

"Good," Draco said, without turning around and left.

***

After that night on the tower, Harry couldn't get Malfoy out of his mind. He tried to, actually starting conversations with Ron, Hermione, and even Ginny, but no matter what they talked about, Harry's mind always wandered back to Malfoy. He knew he didn't have anyone to talk to about it, so getting someone else's opinion wasn't a choice. He had to just deal with it on his own.

As the week dragged on, Harry tried to ignore Malfoy just like he had before, but it seemed to be impossible after what had happened between them. Now it seemed like he was everywhere. Harry watched the blond during classes, during meals, and even when they passed each other in the hall, but not once did he go up to him and say something about that night.

He had been ready to just try to forget about what happened by the next weekend, but that Friday night he had a dream. It was basically the same as the night on the tower, and Harry felt as though he could feel Malfoy's hands holding his wrists together like before. He dreamt that he let go and finally let Malfoy do what he wanted and it had to have been one of the most realistic dreams he ever had. He woke up the next morning with a gasp, his clothes wet both from sweat and from his excitement during the dream. He realised then and there that he wanted what Malfoy was offering. He wanted it.