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“Excuse me, sleeping beauty. We would like a word.”
Draco stirred from his slumber, blinking wearingly into the darkness of his curtained bed. Damn, he had been having the hottest dream involving leather and some weird panther… That he really didn’t want to decipher too much, now that he thought about it…
“Is he even there?”
“He’s there. Probably just asleep.”
Draco growled, recognizing Crabbe and Goyle’s voices whispering behind his bed curtains. He debated getting up and beating the shit out of the two, or falling back to sleep. Weird or not, it had been a good dream… certainly more interesting than whatever it was those two idiots wanted…
“For fuck sake, just charm the damn thing open!”
Eye’s shooting open, Draco jumped from his bed, pushing the curtains aside to grab his wand from the nightstand. It wasn't there. His stomach plummeting, he turned slowly to the group of students staring him down menacingly.
Blaise Zabini was in front, face lit from below with a lumos. He was smiling chillingly, like a predator staring down his prey before the death blow.
Eyes narrowing, Draco crouched and pointed himself towards the door currently blocked by the seventh year Slytherin class, peppered with some large sixth years. Calculating quickly, Draco surged forward, slashing the gap between the two smallest students with his claws.
Bodies pressed in, getting behind him and turning him, an elbow to his face stunning him momentarily. Quickly Draco kneed Goyle in the crotch and whirled, punching the nearest face, and ducking and smashing into another's stomach.
“Fucking stun him!” Draco ducked again, but fists hit his side. Catching sight of Blaise's bastard face, he lunged and pushed him back into the wall with a crunch against the stone. A spell hit Draco in the middle of the back and he felt his spine tighten and refuse to move.
Snarling, he curled claws around Blaise's throat and crushed until someone had the nerve to pull him away.
“Fucking Malfoy, just stay the fuck down.” Three stunners hit him at once, and Draco fell to the ground, body contorted painfully, ears ringing as he lost his ability to hear. He focused on his muscles, trying to get them to tense out of the spell while Blaise kicked him repeatedly.
There had been too many attackers in too small a space. Even with Draco's unnatural strength and violent nature, there hadn't been room to deal enough damage to effectively defend himself. The Slytherins had planned accordingly, knowing that being wandless wouldn't cripple Draco and bringing enough bodies to take him out.
Hands pulled him upright and a hood was thrown over his head, and then the weight of a heavy cloak. He was dimly aware of arms lifting him up and the awkward lurch of being carried.
Of course the Slytherins weren't stupid enough to do this business in the dorms and incriminate themselves. Blaise had brains, which only made him that more dangerous.
Still focusing on his muscles, Draco noticed when they began to loosen minutely. He wasn't down yet. Still alive. Still proud. He could go to the grave if it was on his terms. He just hadn't expected it to be this soon.
The cloak and hood were removed, and Draco glared, his eyes and ears working again but muscles still resisting control. He didn't recognize the room, but he did the students. As if realizing their mistake, someone tied a blindfold over his eyes, pulling tight.
They stripped Draco while he counted faces in his head, memorizing everyone he would destroy once he was free. Hands roughly tore his night clothes off, going so far as to take his briefs. His arms were then wrenched above his head and clasped into heavy chains.
Draco wouldn't plead. Let the fuckers think they had him. It was just his body; none of them had the power to take his will.
A faint whistling noise was his only warning before his head snapped back with a crack, a hand brutally connecting with his face.
“That's for my fucking neck, Malfoy,” Blaise hissed in his ringing ear. Draco could only assume that Blaise was no longer smiling. Score one for him. He was prepared for the second punch to the face, but not for the next that hit his stomach and stole his breath, forcing him to gasp for air his lungs couldn't take in. The shackles bit into his wrist painfully as he bent over, but the pain helped him focus on finding his air again.
His housemates were talking, trying to decide what exactly to do with him. Given some of the murderous suggestions, Draco realized he must have severely fucked up somewhere. Confusing, since he had not seen any signs of discontent in his housemates before that night.
Blaise's voice broke through the rumble, far closer to Draco than the others. “I'm sure you're wondering why we had to go through such measures just to get you alone, Draco.”
Actually, he wasn't. Draco had realized that this chat with his housemates was inevitable. News had reached Hogwarts only a week ago of his father's very public rebellion against Voldemort. He had just not expected the extreme vigor his supposed friends had for this meeting. Apparently they had seen it as personal. That he had not anticipated it, was a mistake that Draco was not positive he was going to survive.
Someone slapped him hard, his cheek stinging numbly. “Speak up, you fucking waste.”
Draco waited a moment out of sheer stubbornness, and then finally snapped a reply. “I assumed it had to do with you being too fucking weak to beat me in a fair fight, asshole.”
Blaise laughed harshly. “I know my limits. You're the goddamn dueling champion, tied only with that shithead, Potter. And everyone knows just how dangerous your blood can get when given the chance. We're not fools.”
Draco raised a brow, unseen beneath the cloth covering his eyes. Commenting on how fucking stupid the whole lot of them were was not going to help him at the moment. Draco would wait until free and armed to hex that lesson into them.
“You see, Malfoy, there have been rumors circulating. Rumors that have certain interested parties very concerned.”
Draco frowned, searching his memory for anything he may have heard whispered about him. Recently it had all been about Lucius and speculation if Draco was going to have a breakdown over it. “Could you try to be a little more specific? I can't imagine how McGonagall's new sock fetish concerns me.” Draco didn't hide his anger from his voice. Blaise wouldn't believe anything he said anyways.
Snickers ran through the room, dark cruel cackles. These weren't children anymore. Draco should have been paying attention; he should have noticed. But he had been so busy worrying about his family and his own physical changes to notice how things had been going to shit around him.
“I think you know what I'm talking about, Malfoy. During a certain Potions class. A certain Gryffindor... You didn't seem to have any problem talking at all then.”
Draco furrowed his brows, racking his brain to try and figure out what the fuck Blaise was ranting about. “What? When we started partner work? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“Don't fucking play with me!” Blaise yelled, wrapping an unyielding hand to Draco's throat. He laughed cruelly as Draco reflexively gasped. “The whole class heard you talking with him as if you were best friends. Then the very next day the Ministry just happens to take out the reserve stores.”
Draco would have snorted if Blaise's hand wasn't clutching his throat so tight. “You think I'm relaying information? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
“You tell me. What could have been so interesting that you spent a whole double period talking to Scarhead? You were laughing with him.”
Fingers threaded through Draco's hair and he repressed a disgusted shudder. “Just because he won't let you in his pants, Zabini, doesn't mean you should freak the fuck out when he shows an interest in me,” Draco taunted sharply.
He realized he had struck a nerve when Blaise immediately pulled back and punched him in the jaw. The pain was worth the information. Blaise had been trying to get to Potter and clearly wasn't succeeding.
“You're a fucking imbecile, Zabini. If You-Know-Who finds out you're feeding false information for your own gain, he's going to kill you. The worst part is, you put every fucking person in this room in danger. Did you bother telling them the risk—”
“Shut up! I'm not the one spying for Dumbledore!” Blaise roared, smashing Draco across the face. “All of you out! Now!” He shouted, waiting for the footsteps to fade before returning to Draco.
“How long have you been giving him information? What have you been telling him?”
Draco hissed, quickly losing his temper at the ridiculous accusations. “Unlike you, I value my life. I don't play spy—I'm not that fucking stupid! And just so we're clear, my family isn't in league with Dumbledore either.” Draco spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. “Let's be serious, Zabini. If Voldemort really thought that I was leaking information, I would already be dead. He sure as hell wouldn't send a two-bit weakling whore like you to get the information from me. You don't even have the power to use Legilimency.”
“I don't need magic, Malfoy.” Blaise's hand grabbed his hair and pulled back painfully, tears stinging at the corner of Draco's eyes. “There are other forms of power. All it takes is the right evidence in the right spot and the Dark Lord will kill you for me.”
Draco probably should have been terrified; Blaise wasn't in the habit of making idle threats. Instead, he laughed, his voice promising pain.
“How about we stop this stupid shit and get to the point? You've always thought I was a threat to your position, but you never had the guts to do anything until my father left the protection of You-Know-Who. So you manipulated anyone that has something to lose by saying I'm putting their families at risk by informing on them. Because you want to take me out. It's not going to work, Zabini. And once I'm free you're going to regret that you even fucking tried.”
“Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Draco,” Blaise said silkily, pressing lips to the blond's bruised cheek. “You're not going to get free. You're going to hang in this room tonight. And then this room is going to disappear until next Friday, just like it always does. Unfortunately for you, by that time you'll be dead from lack of food and water.”
Dread sliced through Draco, chilling more thoroughly than the cold castle air. Blaise was going to kill him. His housemates were going to stand by and let him starve to death, the bloody fucking cowards!
“It's such a shame it had to be this way, Drake. You know I always had a thing for pretty blonds.”
Draco snarled, striking the moment Blaise got too close, sinking teeth into Blaise's cheek. Howling, Blaise wrenched away, Draco spitting out a chunk of flesh with a frightening smile. “You ever hear of the Furour Ghosts, Zabini? I guarantee I'll be coming back to torment you. Just a month and my soul will have enough power to haunt your fucking ass to the grave!”
Draco laughed menacingly at Blaise's angry shout. The final hit to his gut and loud slam of the door did nothing to dull his dark laughter. They would all suffer by his hands, whether he was fucking alive or not.
“Fuck this is boring... Fucking kill Zabini... I'll fucking kill all of them... Stupid Potter and his damn sense of humor. Just had to laugh, didn't I? Fuck! I think I'll gouge out Zabini's eyes first... Maybe cripple him... Fuck. This is a shit boring way to die.”
As each minute ticked by, the stark realization that no one was coming for him had sunk in until it was clutching at Draco's throat as strong as Blaise's hand had. A wand to the head would have been easier. Instant death. Not this stupid waiting around shit. Not the helpless feeling of being stalked...
That, of course, was another problem. Draco did not know which room he was in, and more importantly, if it had windows, because the soft sound of fabric sliding over the floor was starting to freak him out. Could it be a ghost? A wayward student... Some sort of beast? What horrors did Hogwarts house in the darkest of corners?
There was a clatter and Draco jumped, his chains rattling as the noise of a glass container rolling came closer and closer until stopping at his bare feet.
“Hello?” He called, trying with all his might to see through the thick cloth over his eyes. “Is somebody—Shit!” Wind whooshed by him, clothing brushing his side. Draco strained in the darkness, seeking some sort of recognizable sound to calm his racing heart. Gods, let it be human...
Cloth rustled a mere foot away. Draco stepped back as much as the chains would allow. “Back off!” He prepared himself for a good kicking if the need arose. Action was always better than freezing to fear.
“This seems quite the predicament.” A voice commented from where the rustling cloth had been, the whispered words distorted by magic until completely unrecognizable. It was too low to be anything but male, and too indifferent to be Slytherin.
Breath caught in his throat, Draco automatically turned his head, the darkness still remaining with his blindfold. “Who's there? Can you... let me go?”
A tingle trilled down his spine as hot breath spilled over his neck, reminding Draco very quickly that he was naked, chained up, and absolutely vulnerable to this total stranger. It was not all together unpleasant. Draco pursed his lips, annoyed by his body's reaction. His heart was already trying to beat out of his chest; he could not deal with embarrassment as well.
“I don't know. I guess that depends on you.”
Draco had had enough of games that night. “What the fuck? Who are you, you bloody bastard!” He jolted as a hand pressed lightly to his face, rearranging the blindfold gently and setting his nerves jumping with something neither fully anger or fear.
“For someone tied up, you've got quite the nasty attitude towards the only person around to help you, Malfoy.”
Hissing, Draco swallowed his anger and pride. This person was no Hufflepuff, of that he was certain. But they did know who he was. That probably would not help, given Draco's reputation. He would have to make an effort. “Sorry, it's been a bad night. If you can't tell from the bruises on parts of my body that I usually don't show to the whole fucking world. Please let me go.”
Yes, he had said please. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
The person started moving, cloth sliding around Draco as the boy talked. “I could tell, actually. Actually, it's really difficult to miss... I knew you were toned and near glowing pale but... you are surprisingly long, Malfoy.”
Blushing, Draco shivered as a prickling sensation began to slide over his flesh. Resisting the urge to squirm under the stare boring into him, Draco concentrated on the chains biting his wrists. He forced his breathing to slow and did his best to will his quickly growing erection away. This was so not cool.
Stilling again, the voice spoke to the right of Draco. “Answer me truthfully and I'll see what I can do to get you out of here.”
Gods damn it! Draco took a deep, steadying breath and vowed that he'd curse the bloody asshole once he was free. “Sure. Ask away, mate,” he chirped with false sweetness.
He could almost sense the wry smile sent in response. Hell, he could sense the damn heat and magic coming from the bastard too, and it was fucking unnerving. Draco's body was too responsive to his liking. Everything seemed to be setting it off, even the sound of the other's breathing.
“Alright. Who do you serve?”
Draco froze, his anger catching in his throat. “Are you mother fucking kidding me? Were you watching the whole bloody time? I don't serve anyone! Not Voldemort. Not Dumbledore. Not my father. Not anyone! I'm my own man, and that's how its going to bloody stay until the day I die—Which apparently is pretty fucking soon. Fuck you!” He scowled at where he assumed the asshole that could have saved him from a beating was staring.
“I see... I'm afraid that makes things difficult,” the boy mused, breath changing direction as he circled slowly around Draco.
“Well too fucking bad. You're not going to convince me otherwise,” Draco snarled. So much for being saved. It was just one more to add to his list of hauntings once he died.
“Hey—Watch it!” Draco gasped as hot, rough hands found their way to his back and began sliding down. He had to bite back the sound that was fighting to break loose when the hands stopped and slid to his front, thumbs caressing the taut flesh right below his stomach.
For some reason the disgust Draco had felt when Blaise had merely tried to kiss him was absent with this stranger. That alarmed him more than he wanted to dwell on. He shouldn't be feeling like this. He usually had better control.
“I have no interest in changing your mind. I actually find it admirable that you don't give in to the pressures of both sides and stick to your own conscience instead.”
“But?” Draco asked, breathing shallowly while he tried to figure out why he was no longer trying to kill, or get away from this person like he had wanted moments ago. Actually... He was pretty sure he was happy right where he was.
“But... It makes things difficult,” the boy murmured into Draco's neck. “I had planned to leave you here if you picked Voldemort. That's the sort of fucked up shit he would have done. If you had said Dumbledore, I would have released you immediately. You... you didn't pick either.”
Hands began to slide up Draco's torso, over his flat stomach and up to his chest. Palms found his nipples and rubbed, Draco biting his lip painfully to keep from crying out from the maddening sensation.
“You chose yourself, and now I have to consider what you would do. Tell me, Malfoy, would you let such an opportunity... slip?”
“Oh gods,” Draco moaned, the hands on his chest slowly sliding down, rough palms moving heatedly over him. Unconsciously he pressed back into the firm body behind him.
Draco knew exactly what he would have done if the situation had been reversed, and the mental image shook him. He should deny it... say something clever. But all he could think of was what could happen if he just stayed quiet and let those hands continue sliding over him.
“Oh fuck... Don't think I won't beat you,” Draco said shakily, his head falling forward.
“That's what I thought,” the boy chuckled, a husky, delicious sound that left Draco trembling.
With a jolt, he tried to come back to his senses. “Stop... release me first.” He went to step away, but strong, toned arms wrapped in the sleeves of a school robe replaced the hands and pinned his back hard against the body behind him. It should have frightened Draco. The raw power he felt holding him close did a little. But mostly the tighter the arms held him, the faster his pulse raced and the more his body cried for attention.
“No. What fun would that be?” An arm loosened and fingers began to dance over Draco's stomach. The simple movement was amplified by the rough fabric that moved with every breath against his skin. A chin settled on his shoulder; it didn't have too far to go. The boy was only a little taller than him.
“Your name, then.” Draco turned his head, his strained breaths ruffling soft strands of hair brushing his cheek. It was longish... shaggy, maybe.
The face turned to Draco's, lips pressing low on his jaw and biting lightly. “Does it matter?”
“N-No...” Draco whimpered, the scrape of teeth shooting fire through him. The boy was right. If anything, a face to go with the undeniable lust could actually make the whole thing very awkward. Especially if it was a familiar face. Still, Draco's curiosity always was his downfall and right now he knew it would bother him till his last days. Who was it that could make his body ache like this? How the hell had he missed him all these bloody years in the same damn school?
Besides, Draco needed to know who to beat the shit out of.
“Will you tell me after?”
“Not if you plan on hexing me,” the boy whispered back. From his tone, Draco sensed he was expecting it. Without waiting for him to respond, the boy nudged the blond's feet wide and slid a supporting leg between them. Dragging the hand that had been previously playing with the light wiry hair trailing beneath his navel, he traced down Draco's length to stop at the head of his cock with a teasing touch. “I value my life, as well.”
Draco cried out from the touch, all angry retorts lost. His hips jolted forward but the arm pinning his waist wouldn't give. Another brush of fingers to his cock and Draco's whole body was straining, muscles tight with need. He fought the embarrassing urge to plead, instead focusing on breathing. He could feel the boy behind him, his breathing rougher and erection burning through his robes as it rocked against Draco slowly. Yes, definitely male.
The hand cupped his balls lightly and Draco's breath caught. The boy was tentative, as if afraid he would disappear if pushed too fast. Draco would have told him that it was fine but his voice wasn't working at the moment. Hesitant fingers trailed up and down the length of his cock, tormentingly slowly until Draco was fully erect and whimpering mindlessly.
Draco struggled, needing more than light touches, but the hand pulled away. “Don't...” Draco fell silent when the body pulled away as well, leaving him cold and alone.
Anxiety hit him but not the absolute terror that had gripped him before. Would the boy leave him there, vulnerable and hard, or was it some sort of game? Draco was too prideful to ask. If he was going to be left to die again he wouldn't give the bastard the added bonus of hearing him beg like some frightened child. At least the boy hadn't gone far. Draco could sense the heat circling him, the powerful gaze watching him. Gods, that stare could burn.
Hands suddenly slid up his arms to land on Draco's hands. He gasped, feeling the boy standing in front of him. Was he being released? Did he want to be?
“I can't stop looking at you. You're so fucking beautiful,” the boy growled into Draco's ear, breath hot on his neck. “I want to have all of you at once but I can't. I have to decide where to start. Seeing you stretched out like this...” The boy's voice broke with a shudder, dripping with pure need. He stepped forward, lining up their bodies together from hands to toes, just resting against Draco.
Draco groaned in relief, pressing his hips forward and responding encouragingly to the face nuzzling his neck. Just nerves. The boy was bold but not very experienced. That was fine. Hell of a lot better than being left to die, or maybe worse, stopping. He could handle the slow fiery burn, even if hard and fast would have been just as nice.
“Ah...fuck.” Draco let out a low moan as the boy's hot mouth latched onto his collar bone and began sucking, a hand sliding back to tangle in his hair. Yeah, this was more than fine.
Once his neck with near numb with pleasure, the mouth pulled away and Draco chased it, sliding his lips against the other's swollen ones. The boy hesitated and Draco almost pulled back until he realized that it was once again a lack of confidence from the other.
“Come here,” Draco whispered, pressing forward and slowly meeting soft lips. He flicked his tongue against the yielding flesh, tasting cocoa, toothpaste, and something beneath it all that had Draco pressing harder, teeth biting until the full lips parted and divine heat greeted him.
He kissed slowly, becoming familiar with the mouth. Exploring every surface and taunting the other's tongue into a leisurely wrestling match. The boy quickly caught on, responding with a raw need that left them both breathless.
The hands in his hair tightened painfully and Draco cried out. What had been sore, burning bruises only a few minutes ago were now super sensitive aches of flesh that only amplified his pleasure. He rubbed up against the body before him, gasping from the sensation of the rough material against his exposed flesh. Since his arms were still secure, Draco used his leg to pull closer. Finding his balance, he slid his right leg up, pushing the boy's robe aside with his knee to wrap around a pair of jean clad thighs. The friction was amazing and Draco ground his hips against the sturdy form.
“Hell,” the boy groaned into his mouth. He pulled Draco closer, one hand circling his raised thigh and kneading the flesh with strong fingers while thrusting against him in a slow, desperate rhythm.
“I want to... to feel your skin.” Draco tried to get closer, rubbing his body wantonly even as the chains around his wrists pulled him back. The fabric was almost painful against his sensitive skin. But Draco didn't mind, his power rising up to compensate.
“I think we can do that.” All confident taunts had been stripped from the voice to leave a heady, dark growl of desire. The boy pulled back enough to remove his cloak. His knuckles brushed Draco's skin, pulling small gasps from the blond as the boy unbuttoned his school shirt. He tore the material away quickly and sunk back against Draco's body with a moan. “Better?”
Draco shuddered in approval. The other boy's flesh burned against his, smoothly sliding. Draco pulled at his chains with a snarl. He wanted to wrap his arms around that taut body... dig fingers in... sink teeth deep into that hot flesh so he could taste every fucking inch. The chains made a high pitched screech and began to give way. Draco's triumphant smile fell when a rush of magic tingled over his arms and reinforced the bonds.
“Malfoy,” the boy warned. He grabbed a chunk of Draco's hair and pulled until the blond's head was bent back and elegant neck exposed. “Control your blood or I will.”
Draco's smiled wickedly and licked his lips. Centuries of magical beings integrated into his genes were trying to gain control of the situation. “Think of it as a compliment. It takes a hell of a lot of passion to get my beasts roaring.” Growling, he threw his other leg around the boy's waist, grabbing the chains with his hands and pulling himself up. He didn't even flinch from the punishing pull to his hair. The pain was more than welcome.
“Too bad you didn't use it earlier. If it was anything like that quidditch match, Zabini would have been dead.” The boy grunted softly from the extra weight. He slid his hands under Draco's thighs, balancing them. “Not that I'm complaining.” He kissed the pulse in Draco's neck and bit down lightly.
“Ah... Fuck. It, ah, takes a certain power. He doesn't affect me... enough to wake it up.”
“Mmm... Don't you hate him enough?” The boy slid his tongue out where he had just bit, licking firmly.
“Oh, yes... I wouldn't fuck him though. Lust is the easiest way—Oh hell! Do that harder. Oohhh.” Teeth sank in deeper into his throat, enough to bruise, enough to mark. Pleasure burst in hot spots behind his eyes and Draco felt his body go limp for long moments as his mind drifted. “Bloody hell.”
The voice laughed, a low, sensual breath of air that curled around Draco's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “You do realize what you just implied, right? You were fighting Potter two years ago when you first showed your power.”
Draco stiffened but didn't pull away. “Drop it.”
“Heh, did I hit a nerve?” He laughed again, grinding his hips into Draco's. “Maybe you're so hot for it because you're thinking of a certain Scarhead.”
Hissing, Draco snapped his head forward, catching the bastard in the chin. “Drop it, or I turn your face into hamburger.” Anyone with half a brain knew not to bring up Potter in his company, bastard. Following the scent of blood, Draco smashed his lips down and rolled his hips. He smiled into the kiss when the other boy responded with vigor, short fingernails scratching down his back. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you liked that.”
“You're not the only one with magical beings in their bloodline, Malfoy. Some just fucking control themselves better.”
Draco laughed darkly. “A challenge?”
“No... not tonight.” The boy softened his tone, all additional tension from the power within draining from his form. He kissed Draco gently, slowly, until the blond settled down. The erection griding into his stomach was the only sign of how close Draco was to losing his patience. “Tonight you play.”
Nuzzling into the other's neck, Draco nodded. “Fine. Now take off your fucking trousers already. I want to feel all of you.” He carefully unwound his legs and stood shakily on the cold floor.
Shoes clattered, followed by the rip of a zipper and the dull drop of clothes hitting the floor. The only other noise was their combined breathing and the chains clinking lightly as Draco swayed. Steps padded lightly on the stone, letting Draco know he was once again being circled. He stood taller, waiting patiently.
A hand touched his arm and he gasped. But his companion didn't stop moving, instead sliding his hands over whatever piece of flesh caught his attention while he stalked around the blond. Each touch was a jolt to Draco's senses, his cock twitching with need. The bastard was either pushing his luck or still debating how to approach him.
“Hell, if your intent is to drive me mad, you're closer than you think.” Draco groaned, jumping as his nipple was pinched. Another hand found his side and long fingers ghosted over. He trembled, panting quietly.
“There's just so much to admire, Malfoy.” The boy stopped and stepped back into Draco. He wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing their bare torsos together with a sigh. He then slid a hand between the press of their bodies and slowly moved it down. His mouth made its way back to Draco's, kissing deeply and trailing saliva when he moved down to kiss his jaw.
“Ahh... fuck. You make me want it so bad,” Draco groaned, the press of the other's bare flesh overwhelming his senses. He locked a leg around the boy's leg, rubbing it up and down to revel in the sensation of soft body hair. The pace was painfully slow but Draco forced himself to follow along. He refused to stop even if his friend was a little too jumpy.
The evil, teasing hand finally made its way to his cock, wrapping firmly. Draco moaned, the hand stilling all motion as if daring himself to go on. Draco was not in the mood to see how long that would take. “Shit, come on. Just like your own, only in reverse.” Draco slid his mouth over the side of the boy's face and found his ear, lightly biting down. The boy gasped in surprise and tightened his grip even more. Slow, long strokes pulled hesitantly around his cock. “Yes, ahhhh, that's it. Oh fuck... so good.”
“If you only fucking knew how you looked right now.” His voice breaking with lust, the boy buried his face into Draco's shoulder, finding the mark he had made earlier and sucking on it as the blond thrust into his fist.
The heated words were a touch all their own, sincere and passionate. Draco forced himself to go slower. He wanted to touch the boy so badly but the other seemed to need some semblance of control to keep going. It was maddening. That voice inside him was clamoring for something... needed something...
Draco groaned and opened his mouth. “Fuck me,” he whispered, stilling all motion to show he was serious. “I want you inside me. Now.”
His breath coming out in a soft hiss, the boy pulled his head back. He trailed his hands over the blond's body, rolling one of his dusky nipples between thumb and forefinger until Draco whimpered and rested his head forward against the boy's shoulder. He slid his other hand down, cupping Draco's ass and pulling him tight against his body. Holding him steady, he began rocking them together.
Shuddering, Draco thrust up, rubbing their bare erections together with a cry. His whole body was aching, and he felt long, lithe and amazing with each quiet moan the boy holding him made. “Oh gods.” Fingers began to circle his entrance and he spread his legs wide, not caring that he might as well be begging for it. “That's it... yesss.” Draco licked his lips, nuzzling his head against the boy's cheek and trailing his tongue over the smooth flesh as a finger slowly penetrated him. His hips jolted back but the flinch of pain was well worth the burst of pleasure that followed.
“You're so tight. Fuck... Too tight to not be your first.”
“Mmmm... there's a first time for everything,” Draco moaned breathlessly. “Like I said... you make my, mmmm, my beasts roar—Oh!” The angle of the finger suddenly changed, brushing against his prostate with wonderful results. “Oh fuck, again. Again.”
“Like this?” The boy quirked his finger again, becoming more bold with his positive reaction. Draco moaned unintelligibly and rubbed his head against the boy's neck, mouth moving until he found the perfect spot to mark.
There was something dark inside of Draco, that other voice that had only started making itself known the last couple years. It wanted this boy. He couldn't explain why—it was a complicated voice—but it wanted him bad and wanted him now. “Please... please... fuck, I need you.” Another finger pressed into his entrance, causing Draco's whole body to tremble uncontrollably.
The boy pulled his head back, gaze searing over him while his fingers continued to slowly stretch the blond. “Do you really?” He asked quizzically, almost as if detached from the scene. “You don't even know me, Malfoy.”
Draco shook his head and laughed weakly. “Gods, I know you. I haven't figured it out yet, but I know you. That weird beast inside me definitely knows you and your weird beast... Oh. Oh yes. Uh, yeah... Don't think I won't—Oh fuck.” Draco pushed hard against the fingers stroking inside of him, trying to bury them deeper.
“You won't what?”
“I'll find you,” Draco promised with a whimper, holding tight to his bonds to keep himself from swaying to the side.
It took a moment for him to process another thought through the lust fogging his brain. “Maybe. Probably kill you, if you don't fuck me already. Come on... I need you inside me.” He nipped painfully at the boy's flesh to spur him into action.
“Fuck.” Not changing what his hands were doing, the boy rubbed against Draco and slowly slid down to his knees.
“Wait, I need—Fuck!” Draco cried out, certain he'd have fallen forward if not for his restraints as impossible heat engulfed his cock. “Oh gods... oh gods, I can't.” He was going to come if the boy didn't stop. And he didn't want to come, not until the boy was buried deep inside him.
Shit, for a tentative kisser, he sure had no problems with his mouth where it mattered.
“Wait... Come on, please... Oh, oh hell... again... just like that.” Draco gave up, unable to fight the hot mouth sucking him off. Instead he began to rock forward, losing himself in the feel of the fingers filling and receding in his channel and the sensation of wet heat moving over his cock and taking him down deep.
Draco thrust lightly, wondering just how much the boy could take. He hadn't gagged at all. Maybe he preferred to bottom. Gods, he must be a good fuck with a mouth like that... “C'mere. If you're not going to fuck me, then at least let me feel you,” Draco said shakily, stilling his hips and the urge to dominate the experienced mouth.
The boy took his time, sure to get a thorough taste of the blond before rising from his position and leaning in to kiss. “You taste fucking amazing.”
Draco mumbled something inarticulate. A third finger was pressing up against his hole and he was having a hard time noticing anything else. He jolted as his lip was bit to the point of pain, and instinctively responded in kind before he realized that blood was spilling from both their mouths. “Shit... oh hell.”
The boy didn't back down, his tongue trailing over Draco's mouth and chin, sliding down to catch the trickle that had made its way to his neck. Blood and beasts went hand in hand, and it took everything Draco had to hold onto his restraint as the boy rocked against him.
“I'll make a deal with you, Malfoy. I want you. Right now, I think I would go seek out Voldemort and blow him just for the chance to bury myself in your oh-so-perfect ass.” The boy annunciated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips. “Sadly, I have this thing called a conscience. You may have heard of it. It keeps you from doing very bad things.”
“You're really not helping yourself here,” Draco growled. He was too turned on to be truly offended, and wriggled as close as he could get, his cock snug against the boy's. “What's the deal?” Please let it involve burying and his ass...
“Yes... ah, the deal.” The boy let out a low moan, using his free hand to slide between their flushed bodies and wrap shakily around their combined lengths.
“Oh fuck!” Draco's breath exploded out, his body tightening and back arching.
“Fuck yess... Ah, Malfoy, you get a choice.” The boy stilled their motions enough to whisper into Draco's ear with some sense of clarity. “When you find me, which I'm sure you will once you understand what that beast of yours is saying... Um, yeah. So find me. And then you can decide if you still want me.”
Draco shook his head weakly once the words sunk in. “Just fuck me. Gods, please.” A strangled sob escaped him as the hand around their lengths began to move and the fingers in his ass resumed their thrusts. Coordinated... bastard.
The boy quickly smashed his mouth to Draco's. “Fuck, don't say that. Don't beg, or I'm going to split you apart, Draco. I want to so bad. You're so—Fuck, that's hot.” The boy shuddered as Draco whispered another demanding please. “Damn fucking conscience!”
“Oh, harder... Yes, that's it.” Draco was too close to notice when his arms fell, immediately wrapping them tight around the boy fisting their cocks together. “Don't stop... Oh gods. Yes.”
Mouth open in a silent cry, a slippery finger brushed deep against his prostate and Draco came hard, feeling every inch of his cock pulsing in rhythm with the thicker one wrapped against his.
“Hell... fucking hell,” the boy hoarsely whispered out as his own release followed, spilling hot seed onto Draco's stomach. “Gods... you look good like that. Real good.”
Draco moaned weakly, his arms wrapped around the other's neck the only thing keeping him up since his knees had turned rubbery. His orgasm had come with an annoying weight of tiredness. Even as he knew this, he could also sense that other inner voice telling him to catch the boy for good and claim him in a more permanent fashion... Whatever that meant.
Draco frowned, grumbling as the world tilted and the warm body supporting him started shifting. “Give me a sec. My arms feel like they're being attacked by pixies.”
“Sorry, Malfoy. We need to go before the room pulls its disappearing act.” Draco felt arms pulling him up, lifting him easily. The boy was strong. “Just gotta grab my clothes and get my wand.”
Draco was aware of the rustling of fabric right up to the point where the tip of a wand was placed to his forehead. “You've got to be kidding me.”
“Figure it out. I'll be waiting.” The boy quickly whispered a sleeping spell. Draco was able to feel relieved he wasn't being killed, and momentarily angry for being knocked out, before fully losing consciousness.
Draco awoke blearily, the crackling of torches pulling him from his sleep. He ached everywhere. But it was a strangely delicious manner, as if he had been stoned with marshmallows instead of heavy rocks.
Slowly the numbness faded and he gained enough awareness to realize that he was in the hospital wing and all alone.
The windows were pitch black and Draco quickly rose from the bed hoping to keep the night on his side.
Oh, yes, he was sore. He pushed aside his hospital gown, examining the bruises and bandaged wounds on his perfect body. The beast rose up in him, reminding him that he had some hunting to do.
A group of Ravenclaw fifth years, up early in preparation for studying, entered the Great Hall for breakfast. They were greeted with the sight of four very nude seventh year Slytherins hanging upside down from the ceiling. Their faces were bright red either from embarrassment or the settling of blood.
The Slytherins did not scream, or cry for help, nor did they move. If not for the motion of their eyes, eyelids unblinkingly open, the Ravenclaws would have thought they were dead. Since they weren't dead, and the four Slytherins each had a distinct mark burned onto their arm among the many bruises and slashes all over each body, the Ravenclaws sat down at their usual table and began to eat.
An hour later the Great Hall was a roar of commotion, students speculating who could have stuck the whole Slytherin seventh and six year classes all over the castle. And what the victims must have done to deserve to be so humiliated.
The other members of the sixth and seventh year Slytherin dorms had been stripped as well, but they were hung right side up and in less visible place. Much like surprising mistletoe, haunting doorways and classrooms at every turn. None of them could move and all of their eyes had been forced open so that they had to see everyone that saw them.
The teachers were trying to get them free and having little luck at it.
Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been the unlucky four in the Great Hall to hang above while every person who came to eat could see them and laugh at the suggestive positions they had been left in. They must have made someone very angry, Ron thought, and with a laugh he silently thanked whoever had gotten revenge.
Harry, mildly amused by the new decorations, didn't linger with the rest of the students, reminding his friends that they had potions and Snape would be in an extra foul mood. Not wanting to be late and becoming the scapegoats for the potion teacher's anger, the seventh year Gryffindors quickly gathered their things and filed out of the Hall.
On reaching the Potions classroom, locked until Snape deemed himself ready, they all had to wonder what they would do since they shared the class with the Slytherin seventh years and each were now missing a partner.
“Do you think they were real?” Hermione asked her two friends quietly, referring to the dark marks clearly seen on the four Slytherins in the Great Hall. All the other students stumbled upon didn't have the mark aligning them to Voldemort. It became a wonder if the prankster had placed the mark on them when hanging the four. Or if the four Slytherins had been singled out because they had those very marks.
“They're real,” Harry said with certainty. He had seen the mark enough to know and even though quite fresh, they were real.
Ron nodded in agreement. “I'm surprised Malfoy wasn't hanging up there with the rest. Did anyone find him yet? I bet anything, they stuck him on the goalpost in the quidditch field.”
“Not bad, Weasley. It's quite fitting since I'm always kicking your ass in the sport,” Draco spoke up behind Ron, causing the boy to whirl in shock.
“You're free! How are you free?”
Draco smiled darkly. “Wasn't caught in the first place.” Before Ron could grill him with a million questions, the potions’ classroom door flew open. Snape towered in the doorway, his expression grim.
“I would ask that you children refrain from commenting on the new addition to our class. Those remaining students will complete the day's work alone until this crisis can be remedied. I will be busy brewing a solution to the sticking charms in Lab 2. Refrain from disturbing me or destroying the classroom.” His voice a dark purr, Snape stalked back into the room, giving no glance to the nude Nott stuck on the wall as he retreated through the connecting door.
“Hey there, Nott,” Draco said cheerfully, waving to the boy stuck to the dead center of Snape's chalkboard. “How's it hanging? Oh wait... I can see. Not much for hanging, is there?” He smiled viciously and took his seat, pulling out his notes from his bag.
Seamus, ignoring all Slytherin Gryffindor protocol, bounced over to Draco and asked demandingly, “How'd you do it, Malfoy?”
Draco flipped through his notes, hardly sparing him a glance. “If you mean my potion, I suggest you ask Potter since he's my partner in this one. Although, I do frown on cheating,” he added.
Ron scoffed and the rest of the Gryffindors crowded over to Draco's seat. “Only when it's not your friends. And I have to say, it looks like you don't have many friends at all if you're hanging them all on the walls in the buff.”
Draco placed his papers down, looking up in mock innocence. “You can't possibly think that I had anything to do with that? Not when all my friends and housemates have been attacked in such a crude, and very violent way. It seems more a barbaric Gryffindor prank.”
“Like anyone here could have done that. And all in one night?” Hermione said knowingly. “You're the only one I know that could have pulled that off.”
“Oh, what about Potter?” Draco pointed out. “He actually has a motive, too, since the quidditch cup match is coming up against Slytherin.”
Harry nodded. “I could have done it. But I wouldn't have. I'm just not that brutal.” He gave Draco a searching look and then took his seat next to the blond. Draco measured him right back, quickly reminded that Potter had shown potential of having his own beast sleeping inside on many an occasion.
Still... Potter was just too much of a goody-goody. As hot as Potter was with his messy dark hair, glowing green eyes and lush mouth, Draco just couldn't imagine the boy having the nerve to molest him when the opportunity was available. Learning how to dress properly and ditching his nerdy glasses didn't mean Potter knew anything about fucking.
Draco had ruled out Slytherins on principle alone, along with Hufflepuffs. That left Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and Draco was rightfully rooting for the former. It was bad enough that he was in the predicament he was in with his housemates. He did not need anything else to make him a target.
Although he had little worry that his dear classmates would be attacking him anytime soon. Not unless the teachers were able to counter his time release seal that would free the Slytherins days after graduation. A good month away.
“If you lot will excuse us, I can't concentrate on my work when you're hovering.” Draco stood, those closest forced to step back, and he made his way to the storage closet. The other students rambled after with their ingredients list just in case Snape came around and started hexing.
Harry was busy preparing the next round of ingredients when Draco had enough time to relax and look around the room for signs of his mystery boy. He looked for those a little taller than him, and with hair not too closely cropped but not too long either.
Thankfully the Weasel King was taller than anyone in the room, and Draco was saved that suicide.
Finnigan was about the right height and he had been letting his hair grow out lately. Draco didn't sense anything from him though and his beast had no recollection of another soul dwelling in the rambunctious boy. Draco glanced at Seamus's hands, trying to picture if they were like the mystery boy's. His nails were a bit too short and Draco gladly crossed him off his mental list of candidates.
“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry whispered, leaning into Draco's shoulder while chopping a long root. “For real, are you okay? You're covered in bruises and you walked in here with a limp.”
Draco glanced over in surprise. Spending most of his time hunting and capturing his classmates, he had only bothered to heal the obvious wounds on his face. Potter had been the only one to notice, everyone else preoccupied with him actually being there and not stuck to the ceiling.
Eyes straying to the blade flashing in precise slices, Draco peered closer to see what Harry's fingernails looked like. They were long enough to dig into his back...
“Is there a reason you're sniffing my neck, Malfoy?” Harry asked, turning amused eyes to Draco.
Draco hadn't caught any familiar scent and his beast was currently denying any signs of a beast in Potter. Although... Draco was well aware that Potter had one. He had sensed it quite clearly when his own had woken up the first time two years ago. Narrowing his eyes at the confused look he was getting, Draco asked a question of his own. “How tall are you, Potter?”
“Oh... I don't know. A bit more than you, I'd say,” Harry said smugly, turning back to his work. Draco glared and turned away, more than happy that the obnoxious Gryffindor couldn’t be the one.
It wasn't until afternoon, and Draco was roaming the halls making sure he said hello to all the Slytherins currently hanging in the castle, that he caught the scent. His beast roared up immediately in recognition and Draco had to grab the wall to keep from stumbling as his knees went weak.
Whoever the fuck he was, Draco's body responded in ways it never had before and it left him momentarily stunned. By the time he pulled himself together and made it to the hallway the scent was drifting from, a mass of students getting out of their last class was broiling about. Draco's nose couldn't discern up from down with all the people.
Cursing, he stomped around for a bit and to his shock, a little dribble of scent reached him and he held on, quickly rounding corners and students, only to smack right into Hermione Granger, knocking them both to the ground.
“Shit!” Draco snarled, rubbing his forehead with one hand and helping the girl up with the other. “Did anyone else go by here just now?”
“If they did, they went around me,” Hermione retorted sharply, pulling her bag up and checking the contents for anything broken. “Honestly Malfoy, all the Slytherins are tied up. There's no one left to be chasing you.”
Draco focused on the girl instead of walking off like he had intended. “And just what do you know of Slytherins chasing me, Granger?” He asked, warning clear in his voice.
Hermione tossed her head back, hardly intimidated. “I know they beat the crap out of you last night and you stuck them to the walls in retaliation. They've been plotting your downfall ever since that article was printed about your father. Not all of us are completely daft to inter-house politics.”
Not satisfied, but not in the mood to talk with the girl either, Draco just shrugged. “As long as Potter doesn't have it in his thick skull that he can try and save me, or some rot. I don't need your help.”
“Clearly.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Although, if we were to help, we would have had better results than a beating and humiliation. And no one would have found the bodies until we were ready for them to be released. The professors are bound to get them down eventually.”
Draco resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at the girl. “Whatever, Granger. Public humiliation suits my needs much more than torture and information. Whenever they're cut loose, they'll still be expelled for the mark, and their families will be ousted in the papers long before that time comes. If it all goes well, the four of them will be disowned—Not that I'm admitting to any part in the matter. I'm just quite content with the outcome.” Draco smiled at the thought and then brushed past the girl.
The scent had completely disappeared and Draco scowled at the realization that Granger had made him lose it. Bloody Gryffindors.
Decided, he changed directions and headed toward the library where he would be sure to have his fill of Ravenclaws to sort through. Hopefully the boy he was looking for would be there.
It was late when Draco finally dragged himself to the Great Hall for dinner. The room was practically deserted except for the Gryffindor quidditch team, who had been practicing that evening.
Draco sat as far away from the group as possible. But without the other Slytherins to create the proper intimidating atmosphere, little deterred the Gryffindors from picking up their plates and sitting down around him at the table. Draco's annoyance was kept in check by the sudden, intense appearance of the scent. He sat at attention, looking at the faces of the boys all smiling at him.
“Not to be a bother, Malfoy, but would you mind telling us how you stuck them up like that?” Seamus asked brightly, pointing his fork up to the ceiling where the four Slytherins still hung suspended above. The teachers had tried to at least cover them up but Peeves had floated up and stolen the sheets the instant the professors had left the room. “Malfoy?”
Draco showed no signs of hearing, his eyes moving to each boy as he realized they were all saturated in the scent. How, he could only guess, and his lust addled mind immediately jumped to Gryffindor orgy on the quidditch field. A more reasonable explanation was that the source of the scent had dosed them all in passing... Or that the source was at the table and the scent was so strong it was overpowering everything else.
“Malfoy, are you okay?” Harry touched his shoulder, causing Draco to jump and lock his eyes on the tanned hand. Streaked in dirt, it smelled like sweat and endorphins, and Draco calmly asked his beast if it remembered it. It did not.
Draco was sure he did though... He grabbed Harry's hand to sniff suspiciously. Nothing, but... Uncertain, Draco licked the palm questioningly.
Ron growled and stood, his fist pulled back ready to punch, but Harry held him off with a look. “There’s plenty of food if you're that hungry, Malfoy,” Harry said carefully. The Gryffindors chuckled awkwardly but Draco didn't react, still staring at Harry's hand.
Brows furrowed, Draco licked again, running his mouth against the ridges that seemed very familiar... But still, he couldn't get a clear read. Deciding there was nothing more to it, he sunk his teeth in and bit down hard. Harry moaned in surprise, his palm dripping scarlet that Draco immediately recognized.
“Potter, you wanking bastard!” Draco snarled, standing and roughly pulling Harry across the table and wrenching his hair. This time when Draco sniffed the boy's sweat soaked neck, a very familiar scent answered him.
Harry smiled sheepishly, not pulling away from the painful grip on his head. “Well, I couldn't make it easy on you, could I?”
“I had to draw blood to tell! That is beyond unfair!”
“Oh, like you give a shit about anything fair.” Harry tilted his head back, his smile enticing. “I should remind you that my friends are going to kick the crap out of you if you don't let me go soon.”
Draco glared unconcernedly at Harry's wary teammates and then jumped onto the table. He hauled Harry up with him, still holding him by his thick chocolate hair.
“I should have known, Potter. I would have if you hadn't disguised yourself! I am very pissed off at you right now.”
Harry panted, turning his head in the cruel grasp. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
Draco paused, licking his lips as his beast made many lust crazed suggestion. Harry was dusty from the field, dripping in sweat, and smelling of fresh air. Twisting in Draco's hold, the boy was damn delectable. “I am... going to make sure you can't ever disguise yourself from me again,” Draco said finally, remembering that they had an audience.
Harry laughed and leaned in, whispering in Draco's ear. “The only way to do that is to mate with me. Surely thats just a bit too much for your sensible, self-serving ways, Malfoy.”
Staring expressionlessly at Harry's mischievousness green eyes, Draco let the boy go abruptly, hands falling to his sides in defeat.
He would not be a pawn to Dumbledore, not even for Harry. Not even if his beasts were screaming at him to claim the infuriating boy for his own.
Draco climbed down from the table, sending an uninterested look at his barely touched dinner. Curling up in bed feeling miserable sounded like a good idea at the moment, and stepping around the confused Gryffindors, Draco headed for the door.
“Oi! Don't tell me you're giving up that fucking easy!” Harry shouted after him, scrambling from the table. Ron grabbed his arm but Harry shook him off with a glare and ran after Draco. He caught up with the blond right outside the doors.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry insisted, grabbing Draco's hand. “You're supposed to be smart.”
Draco whirled, anger twisting his features. “Do not tell me that choosing sides is smart, you pompous—!”
Barking in laughter, Harry pinned Draco effortlessly to the wall by his shoulders. “I had the pleasure of hearing your loyalties first hand. Why don't you try asking mine?” Harry breathed tauntingly into Draco's ear.
Draco struggled uselessly against the uncommonly strong grasp. He might win if he let his beast loose, but the creature was very much interested in fucking, not fighting. Snarling, Draco stopped moving, instead growling low at Harry.
“Why bother when you are so fucking deep in his pocket you can't find your way out!”
“I would have said the same of you, of a different wizard, just yesterday,” Harry reminded soothingly. “Perhaps you should ask me, just in case.”
Draco huffed, staring at Harry suspiciously. “Fine. Who the fuck do you serve?”
“No one.” Harry said bluntly. “Honestly Malfoy, do you think any beast could stand to take orders from anyone?” He asked, face slowly nuzzling into Draco's neck and breathing deep.
Draco closed his eyes, feeling Harry like he had when chained, flesh against flesh, scent strong in his nose, power radiating from the hard body before him. It was intoxicating... maddening... and he felt very dizzy and very hard all at once.
Harry released Draco's shoulders, hands tugging at the blond's shirt and pulling it free from his belt. Those same, rough hands were suddenly on his waist and moving up his back, touching desperately as if they had been apart years instead of less than half a day.
But this time Draco wasn't chained. Growling, he grabbed Harry's hips and twisted, slamming the infuriating boy up against the wall. “You're a fucking asshole, Potter,” Draco snapped before crushing his mouth onto Harry's ripe lips, biting viciously as the brunette dug nails into his back and clawed down.
Draco tore at Harry's t-shirt, the cotton stretching and then ripping down the front. He kissed down the flesh of the chest revealed, licking and sucking and biting while Harry groaned, head lolling against the wall in surrender.
“Crap, crap... fucking hell!”
Draco snarled, looking up to find that Harry's friends had thought to follow. “Potter, get them the fuck out of here,” he demanded, voice hoarse with want.
Harry opened his eyes blearily, focusing on his quidditch teammates staring at him with a mix of horror and amusement, and dare he say, a fair bit of lust.
“You heard the sexy git. Get lost,” Harry said, grabbing the back of Draco's neck and kissing the boy deeply. Blood had appeared from somewhere and Harry licked at the corner of Draco's mouth, chasing the metallic flavor.
“Potter, fuck... Stop,” Draco growled, pushing the boy back against the wall again, his body tight and bristling as their audience refused to leave. “Either they leave, or I do.”
Harry gave an exasperated exhale, nudging Draco's face to the side so he could glare behind him properly. “What? What the fuck do you want? I'm busy.”
Ron, looking green and extremely uncomfortable, shook his head slowly. “You were very clear, Harry. Hermione and I were to keep you from... Well, from exactly what you're doing. Three years ago we promised that if you lost your shit and started kissing, and or beating Malfoy, we would stop you.”
“Oh... right.” Harry licked his lips thoughtfully, turning his gaze to Draco's very angry silver eyes. “I was pretty sure you were a Death Eater, Malfoy. It had seemed like the reasonable thing to do at the time.”
“For the last three years? Three years you've been calling for me?”
Harry shrugged, his eyes darkening. “Like I told you last night. Some of us have a hell of a lot more control.”
“That means you woke it up that day, Potter. It might have slept forever without someone calling. You're the fucking reason I've been losing my god damn mind the last two years. Fuck!” Draco pushed away, glaring at the extremely gorgeous asshole that always seemed to find a way to ruin his life. “Do you even realize what a fucking monster this thing is in my head? I nearly killed those fuckers!” He pointed to the Great Hall doors and the students hanging from the ceiling unseen behind them.
Harry smiled savagely, stalking forward and grabbing Draco by the biceps. “I am fucking aware.” He kissed Draco again, ferociously, and then started nipping down the blond's chin and throat with hard, heated bites.
“Shit, Potter... I'm still angry with you!” Draco moaned, even as Harry pulled him into his embrace, the blond's body trapped against his.
“Ha, you're so fucking hot when you're angry...”
Ron, now a very distinct shade of white, tapped Harry on his shoulder. “I'll stun you if I have to, Har.”
“Weasley, get the fuck out of here before I maim you!” Draco snarled, turning Harry so that he was behind him, and then rounding on Ron. “We are having an important conversation. Stop interrupting!” Draco glared at the group of Gryffindors, Ron sick and the rest laughing. “Fuck off!”
Seamus, wiping tears from his eyes, grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him away. “Clearly Harry doesn't need your help, Ron. Nor Malfoy, for that matter. Let's go.”
Ron resisted, looking torn. They had promised.
Harry grabbed Draco from behind, hands slipping under the blond's shirt while he kissed up the side of his neck. Ron really did not want to see this, especially with the way Draco was throwing his head back, leaning against Harry and panting. He decided he would find Hermione and figure out what to do from there.
“They're gone,” Harry murmured into Draco's throat, his hands seeking out his nipples and squeezing hard. Draco cried out, hips thrusting forward for contact that wasn't there. Harry pulled him back tighter against his body, rubbing his hard erection against the boy's ass.
“Potter... we still need to talk.” Draco could barely speak, his body achingly hot everywhere Harry touched.
“Later,” Harry insisted, running his hand down the front of Draco's pants and pressing his palm into the bulge growing there.
“Noo... fuck... oh fuck.” Draco's knees gave way, and he would have fallen if Harry hadn't supported him. Suddenly he was being turned, Harry throwing him over a shoulder as if he weighed nothing at all. Draco shook his head, trying to understand what was happening as Harry carried him down the corridor, the boy's hand squeezing his ass as he walked.
Draco caught the faces of a group of third years, hands over their mouths to keep from laughing as Harry walked by with a cheeky grin. “Put me down, you ass!” Draco hissed, only to have Harry smack his behind smartly in reply. “You fucking git!”
“Almost there... Unless you'd prefer I take you right on the Great Hall doors?” Harry asked, smirking mischievously. “We can always go back.”
“So help me, I am going to tear you to fucking pieces.” Draco snarled, his claws growing in response to his anger and biting into Harry's shoulders. Draco watched as Harry's eyes widened, pupils dilating and lips parting.
Harry stopped, lifted Draco back to the ground, and snapped him up against the wall. “I am going to fucking destroy you,” Harry growled, looking down into the blazing eyes before him.
Draco smirked and suddenly sliced his hand across Harry's face, four slashes of red appearing from cheek over nose and forehead back to cheek. Harry's green eyes were near glowing against the scarlet as he glowered down at Draco.
Harry grabbed both of Draco's wrists, pinning them painfully in his grip. “You are very good at that,” he said heatedly, tongue peeking out to taste the small red drips of blood as they reached his mouth.
“You know what you're really fucking good at, Potter? Sucking dick.” Draco pushed forward with all his strength and Harry went flying back stumbling, landing in a crouch before he could hit the opposite wall of the hallway. He was smiling, fingers gingerly touching the torn flesh of his face and then licking the blood off his hand.
“Glad you enjoyed it. I have a feeling you're going to like what comes next even better.” With that Harry straightened, strode forward, and slugged Draco across the cheek. Dazed, Draco didn’t resist the hard kiss that quickly followed, the brunette grinding him back painfully into the wall.
Then Harry was gone, pulling Draco by the collar of his shirt and dragging him down the hallway. Moments later, Draco was pushed against a door, slamming forcefully and then falling backwards as it opened. He twisted, doing his best not to crack his head against the stone floor.
Glaring up from his sprawl on the floor, Draco took in Harry's dusty jeans, torn shirt, and bleeding, grinning face. Harry slowly shut the door behind him, walking deliberately towards Draco. Seeing an opening, Draco kicked his foot out, wrapping his legs around Harry's feet and dragging him to the ground.
Eyes wide, Harry windmilled and fell heavily. Not having enough time to brace himself, he landed hard on his shoulder, nearly elbowing Draco in the process. Draco snarled and grabbed Harry's arm, twisting back and pushing the Gryffindor's bleeding face brutally against the stone floor. “Three fucking years. Why the fuck didn't you say something sooner, you pain in the ass?” Draco demanded, leaning forward to bite Harry's ear hard. “Have you been hiding your scent this whole fucking time too?”
Harry groaned, Draco's tongue on his cheek licking at the cuts there. “I thought you were His, Malfoy. I wasn't ever going to touch you. Then your father flipped sides, and... fuck... and I saw the Slytherins carrying you. And I couldn't fucking stop myself.”
Draco growled, biting Harry again. “And your scent? Tell me!”
“Yes! I was... I was trying to be considerate, you slimy git. When you tried to beat me into the quidditch field, I felt you wake up and respond. It wasn't fair to you, so I charmed my scent ever since to keep you sane.” Harry was starting to gather his strength again, and he began pushing back against Draco's weight, lifting himself from the ground. He pushed the blond boy away, meeting the angry glare from where Draco knelt and waited.
“I should have taken you when I had the chance last night. Should have made you mine and never offered a fucking choice.” Harry grabbed his head, growling into his arm. “But I am in control of that part of me.”
“You're an ass,” Draco grumbled, carefully combing his blond locks into place as he processed what Harry had said. Not only had Potter woken up his beast, but he had then proceeded to hide the mating call from him for two years. Considering the fucking pain in the ass the beast had been without the call, Draco had to wonder what the idiotic Gryffindor had been going through with the call.
Harry reached forward and grabbed Draco's arm, pulling the startled boy down on top of him. “I've been waiting a long time, Draco. I need you.”
“Too fucking bad,” Draco hissed. “I didn't know it was you last night. I have no interest in mating with you.”
Harry ignored him, tangling fingers through Draco's hair and kissing the boy hungrily. Draco struggled and bit back, gravity working against him as Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders and held tight. Harry's other arm pinned Draco's hips down. Then his knee nudged between his thighs, and Harry’s leg pressed against Draco's hard length determinedly.
“Stop—I'm going to kill you... oh...” Harry continued to kiss Draco, tongue driving into his gasping mouth, slowly muffling the furious resistance. He rolled them, his body crushing Draco into the ground, hands free to strip the boy's shirt off.
“You still have my bites,” Harry pointed out, fingers brushing over the dark red marks he had left on Draco's skin. “You had to know, even then, that you were mine.”
“Shut the fuck up. I'm not yours. I'm not anyone's.” Draco pushed at Harry's shoulders but the boy didn't budge.
“You are. You are fucking mine.” Harry ran his palms over Draco's sides and then bit fingers in hard until the pale boy moaned and arched. “One taste and I knew. One fucking taste of your skin and blood when you punched me in the mouth three years ago. Every god damn moment since, I have been fucking insane for you, Draco.”
“You're just insane... in general,” Draco whimpered, Harry roughly twisting his nipple, then licking his hot mouth down over the flesh, only to pinch again harder.
“Little prat.” Harry began biting down Draco's chest and stomach, wrenching at the boy's hips and tearing at the clasp and fly to Draco's pants after removing his belt. Draco was still mumbling about hating Harry and wanting to kill him, but his body was readily responding to his touch, hips raising to allow him to pull his pants and briefs down and off his legs.
Without hesitating, Harry licked his palm and wrapped his fingers around Draco's long, smooth cock, stroking it to full arousal. Draco cried out, fingers curling into fists on Harry's shoulders, hips bucking into the touch. “No... oh fuck, don't.” He scrabbled at Harry's back, tearing at the ripped tee and pulling it off in shreds. “I am not... yours.”
Harry laughed lowly, gripping Draco's jaw and pulling the boy's gaze to his. “Tell that to the pretty mark you left on my face.”
Draco swallowed, very much finding the claiming slashes on Harry's face beautiful and belonging to the handsome boy. “Fuck you, Potter.”
Harry pushed Draco down flat on the floor. “Maybe after I fuck you first.” He pulled the blond's knees up, pushing them until Draco was spread out and exposed before him. Then hands following down the smooth thighs, he sought out Draco's pink entrance and began probing.
“Damn it... oh, wait just a fucking second... fuck... oh gods.” Draco thrashed as two long fingers breached him, Harry managing some sort of lubricating spell at just the right moment. This was not over. Draco would beat the crap out of the smug, infuriating Gryffindor. But... but his beast was very loud and winning so first he would see to that deal of burying and his ass.
“Shit, how are you so tight again?” Harry grunted, nuzzling his face in Draco's neck and sucking thoroughly as he fucked the tight boy with his fingers. Draco was digging claws into his back, whispering something about hurrying the fuck up, and damn if Harry was going to argue about it.
Harry quickly undid his own fly, pushing his jeans and underwear down his thighs, and pulling the aching boy's hips to him. He pressed experimentally against Draco's entrance, feeling the flesh yield. Draco's hands were suddenly grasping his forearms and Harry looked up, meeting the intense silver glare.
Licking his lips, Harry slowly pressed forward, watching as Draco's mouth parted in a silent moan. He could feel the blond's flesh loosening and opening to him, tight and burning hot as Harry delved in excruciatingly slow.
Draco found his voice, crying out lowly as his channel was spread wide and filled completely, Harry pushing in with small, shallow thrusts until entirely entrenched inside. Tears were stinging his eyes and Draco wasn't sure if it was from pain or the extremely intimate feeling overtaking him from Harry being buried so deep and fully. He gasped for air, trying to find some sort of semblance around the unbearable fullness.
“Fuck... look at you,” Harry murmured, pushing Draco's silky hair off the boy's sweaty face and running fingers across the gasping, pink lips. “Yes, you're mine. I can see it on your face, Draco. Your body... your entire beautiful body is telling me.” He kissed Draco's bottom lip, and then tugged, teeth nipping until blood ran.
Draco shuddered, unable to look away from Harry's possessive gaze. At that moment he was certain Harry was right and he most surely belonged to the brunette. Unwilling to admit it, he rocked his hips to distract, and then groaned, the feeling overwhelming from the movement.
“Oh, hell.” Harry's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, Draco clenching around him. He couldn't stop himself from pulling back and thrusting deep. Draco sobbed in his ear and Harry did it again, wanting to hear the boy cry, and beg, and finally admit that he was his.
Draco was so tight, hot and slick, and Harry couldn't take it any longer. He braced an arm on the floor, gripped Draco's hip tighter, and began to steadily pump into the gasping boy. Claws biting into his back, a leg thrown over his shoulder, Draco held onto him, no longer resisting. Instead he urgently started pushing back into each thrust, helping to bury Harry in deeper.
“That's it... fuck, Draco.” Their ragged breathing was loud in the room, broken by the wet sounds of Harry's cock driving in and out of Draco's slickness. Draco's aching cries and gasps echoed dully as Harry thoroughly fucked the boy and made him his.
Harry held back as long as he could, wanting Draco to feel every moment, every inch, and never forget that this was how he belonged. Under him... opened to him... begging and pleading for more.
“Please... oh please,” Draco cried again, his body arching, head thrown back to reveal his long pale neck. “Don't stop... please.”
Harry grinned viciously, biting the boy's shoulder. “Never... fucking... stopping.”
“Harry... please... oh, fuck... please,” Draco whimpered, a low desperate sound, and grabbed Harry's hair. “Bite... hard.”
Harry glanced up at the boy and then stared, catching the look of pure, agonizing torment on Draco's face. That would prove Draco was his. That would show anyone that fucking looked at the sexy prat that he belonged to him and only him.
“Tell me you're mine,” Harry demanded, thrusting harder into Draco.
“Fuck you!” Draco choked out, head lolling to the side. He wrapped his free leg around Harry's waist and rolled his hips, trying to get very needed pressure onto his aching erection.
Harry glared, and with utter, terrible restraint, stopped all motion. He grabbed Draco's arms and pinned them to each side of the boy's head. “You are fucking insufferable. Tell me.”
Draco, hips bucking, laughed. “Make me.” He forced his head up, meeting Harry's narrowed eyes. “Come on, Potter. Fucking make me.”
“Arrogant fucking pain in the ass!” Harry disentangled himself from Draco's sweat soaked, delicious body and stood, grabbing the blond by the waist and hauling him along. Harry kicked his jeans off all the way and took a quick look around the dusty classroom.
Draco squawked as he was pushed roughly across the room and into the heavy teacher's desk, the desk's lip biting into his thighs. Harry painfully grabbed the back of his head and forced Draco's face down into the wood, kicking his long legs wide as he bent the boy over.
“Alright, let's try this again,” Harry snapped, smacking Draco painfully across his raised bare ass. “Who do you belong to?” He ran his hand softly over where he had just hit, touching the burning spot softly as he waited for Draco to answer.
“I am... going to... fucking kill you,” Draco panted out, fighting and failing to get his head off the desk under Harry's hold.
Harry slapped him again, this time on the other cheek to leave matching marks. He pressed forward, rubbing his dripping erection against the stinging flesh, smiling when Draco moaned. “I'm waiting.”
“You fucking... son of a whore.” Draco closed his eyes as Harry smacked him again, trying to understand why he was so achingly hard. But he was, Harry's continuous soft touch over the numb, heated flesh making Draco press back and spread his legs wider.
Harry noticed, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing as Draco tried to get more contact. “You are so unbelievably hot right now... Fuck, Draco. Just tell me so I can claim you.”
“I have told you. I don't belong... to anyone.”
“Gods fucking damn stubborn foul mouthed sexy prat.” Muttering angrily, Harry lined himself up with Draco's entrance and surged forward, keeping the blond flat against the desk as he began to ream the infuriating boy he had fallen for ages ago. “You are going to... fucking tell me... or I am going to... fuck you all night!” He promised, thrusting into Draco gruelingly while the pale boy moaned and spread this thighs wider.
“Oh fuck... harder.” Draco grabbed uselessly at the hand holding his head down, pushing back into the hard thrusts trying to claim him. “Oh fuck... so good.” His flesh ached where Harry had spanked him, tight and hot against the brunette's rocking hips.
Suddenly Harry lifted his hand and pushed Draco forward, Draco's thighs smarting against the desk, head and chest no longer having a surface to rest against. Draco spread his arms wide and gripped the table, Harry thrusts changing direction and increasing intensity. White flashed behind Draco's eyes and he cried out, Harry hitting the sensitive spot buried inside him.
“Fuck, you're close,” Harry grumbled, eying Draco's long, flushed body heatedly. The stubborn boy still refused to admit he was his. Draco had no problem begging, and whimpering please and harder, but the fucking ass just wouldn't submit. Harry would not bite him without consent, no matter how much he fucking knew Draco was his and that Draco damn well knew it too.
Harry reached around Draco, finding the boy's straining arousal crushed unpleasantly against the desk, He pulled the blond up so that he was leaning back unsteadily against him, and began to pump the hard flesh as he fucked Draco in long, driving thrusts. “You want this Draco... You want me... Just fucking say it.”
Draco moaned, head falling back against Harry's shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Tell me, you gorgeous prat... Tell me you're mine.” He found Draco's prostate again, giving it a long stroke.
Draco's mouth fell open, saliva dripping down, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck... oh fuck, please.”
“Oh, you're tight... fucking hell,” Harry groaned, Draco's length swelling, jumping under his fingers as it streamed seed over his hand and the desk. Harry continued to thrust, slow and hard into the boy's clenching channel, grunting at the tightness. He pushed Draco down against the desk, slamming into the maddening heat again and again. Harry came with a hoarse shout, filling Draco's eagerly clenching body.
“Fuck Potter... oh fuck, yes.” Draco, eyes closing, relaxed as Harry fell against him and crushed him onto the desk. “Fucking amazing.” He panted heavily, heart still pounding in his ears.
Harry nodded blindly, having to agree. “You're a stubborn ass.”
Draco smirked lazily, wiggling in Harry's grip. “Come here and let me see that cut on your face.”
Harry obliged grudgingly, feeling very tired. He pulled out of Draco and stood, helping the blond sit up. Draco ran gentle fingers over the slash on Harry's nose, looking thoughtful.
“You know, Potter, as nice as this looks...” Draco suddenly grabbed Harry's hair, viciously twisting his head and sinking teeth into his throat. Harry howled in surprise and pain, body tensing and arching backwards. Draco wrapped his free arm around Harry's chest, using his weight to push the boy down to his knees.
“Sodding... wanking... ferret!” Harry hissed, Draco's magic rushing over him, binding him, claiming him. His body shook in Draco's hold, agonizing waves of pain and pleasure washing through him while Draco puffed hot air on his neck, blood and saliva dripping hotly down his skin.
Draco ignored Harry's complaints, running a hand gently across his cheek and jaw, soothing while he continued to clamp his teeth tight. Draco's beast had calmed at the mating bite, its roar now a simple purr in his chest as Harry thrashed.
“Draco... oh fuck... please.” Draco raised a brow at the un-Harry like words, slowly tracing the brunette's features as he finished the bond. When he finally pulled away, jaw aching, Draco found Harry flat on his back, green eyes blinking unseeingly as a dazed smile graced his lips.
Draco flexed his jaw, trying to relieve the sore muscles. “You are fucking mine, Harry,” he said, leaning over the groggy boy who nodded dully in reply.
“Say it,” Draco insisted, grabbing Harry's hair and pulling.
“Fuck... I'm yours, Draco. Always yours.” Harry turned his head, kissing Draco with slow and heady movements.
Draco pulled away, calling his wand to his hand. Grinning smugly, he pointed it to Harry's head and raised his brow. “I still owe you for last night, Potter.”
Harry rolled his eyes, far too tired to fight. “Whatever.” He was not surprised by the sleeping spell, although he did have time to wonder briefly if he was going to find himself stuck to the ceiling when he woke up.
There was a shirt resting by Harry's face once he awoke. He was fairly certain it was a shirt anyways, the material silky and black. Now he could tell that his chest and stomach were exposed as they pressed down on the ground, he was fairly certain it was from lack of said shirt.
He did not feel quite right, very dizzy and tired. Underneath his sore muscles and bruised flesh he felt content. Warm... complete... His beast was purring like a sated kitten full of milk.
Harry became aware of a heaviness to the air, as if people were yelling... no, laughing...
Trying to see what was going on, he moved his bleary gaze from the black shirt and to the right. The faces of his oblivious Gryffindor classmates greeted him, chuckling about something. Considering where their faces were in relation to Harry, they were likely laughing at him.
Harry wasn't certain exactly what Draco had done yet, but it seemed to involve him waking up face down and topless on the Gryffindor dining table.
It was breakfast time. Unable to wake him, his classmates had started eating around Harry's prone form, laughing as they grabbed from serving plates he was strategically placed between.
Harry gave a great groan and tried to pick himself off the table, only to freeze, lips parting wide as he squeaked. He immediately fell back down, covered his mouth with his hands to keep from making a louder, needier noise, and tried to figure out if he knew for certain what a butt plug was supposed to feel like.
Warm heat was nuzzled between his cheeks, stretching him wide. Maddeningly, the moment he had become aware of it his body had started clutching around the intrusion in attempts to free it. But each squeeze tortuously revealed the size and thickness of the object and only seemed to spur the desire to tighten.
And each time he clenched he felt agonizing, aching pleasure.
“Watch the eggs, Harry,” Neville chided, trying to get a serving spoon full without Harry's elbow getting in the way. “I like your pants, by the way. Although, you never seemed like the leather type.”
Eyes squeezed shut, trying to will his quickly growing erection away, Harry didn't answer.
“Harry, you're awake!” Ron cheered, leaning in front of his face, head resting on the table to make eye contact. “Your face is a mess. Do you have a hangover? I figured you had to be drunk to end up here... or to be chasing Malfoy, for that matter,” Ron added with a dark mutter.
Hermione had told Ron that since Draco was clearly not a Death Eater that Harry was more than allowed to spend time with the git. It had been a very displeasing conversation. “Here, let me help you up.” Ron offered, reaching across Harry's shoulders to lift his friend.
“No!” Harry gave a weak yelp, twisting from the helping hands only bringing back the very delicious sensation of something quite large and thick buried in his ass. He was going to kill Draco. Fucking kill him.
“My, uh... wand?” Harry inquired his voice way too high pitched while Ron stared at him confused. After a moment, Ron handed it over, having found it on Harry's back.
Harry quietly whispered a concealing charm on the front of his pants. It did nothing for the feel of his aching arousal, but it would stop everyone in the bloody Great Hall from seeing it, which was most important. Harry again tried to push himself up, only to fall back down and bite his hand to keep from crying out as the butt plug moved inside him. Fucking Malfoy!
Glaring daggers, Harry turned his head and sought out where Draco usually sat. The sexy prat was in his normal seat, head resting on his hand while he leisurely watched him from across the room. Noticing Harry's glower, Draco raised his middle finger and then licked up it slowly.
“Fucking ferret,” Harry muttered hotly, trying and failing to not respond to the boy's pink tongue moving lewdly. Slowly and deliberately, Harry rolled himself towards the edge of the table, regretting it the moment he was on his back and his ass was pressing against the wood and driving the plug in deeper. Palm firmly between his teeth, he shimmied down the edge and tried his best not to bend in any way.
“Harry, are you okay? Did you hurt your back, or something?” Hermione looked genuinely concerned, taking in his face covered in four horizontal slashes filled with dry blood, a very large dark bruise on his neck streaked with more dried blood, and smaller marks and bruises all over his flesh. She paused, eyes drawn back to Harry's throat. “Harry... did you and Malfoy...?”
“Don't say it, Mione,” Ron broke in, his face green. “As long as no one says it, I can pretend it didn't happen.”
Seamus laughed. “Oh, it happened. Look at his neck.” He pointed to Harry's bite. “Our lil Harry is officially claimed, and likely shagged too.”
Harry ignored the three of them, his entire focus on the very thick item inserted in his ass as he tried not to sway on his feet. Draco was staring intently, eyes blazing in smug satisfaction. Harry also noticed that the boy's pale face was flushed with desire.
“Sweet pants,” Seamus quipped, putting down his pumpkin juice to boldly run a hand across Harry's thigh. “Your boyfriend has good taste.”
Harry frowned down, noticing for the first time that he was in form fitting black leather pants and heavy dragon hide boots. He slapped away the hands of his classmates that suddenly thought it was okay to paw him, whirling on Dean when he pinched him cheekily. Harry scowled, once again seeking Draco's face out of the crowd and pointing to the pants. Draco just wagged his eyebrows suggestively and then tilted his head towards the shirt still on the table.
Reaching as carefully as he could, because every movement Harry made was excruciating torment to his backside, he snagged the shirt and looked it over. The silky material was stretchy, and when he threw it on he found it clung to his muscles and chest like a second skin. Hardly appropriate for school but certainly fun for a different occasion. Harry sent Draco a heated glare and slowly tried to make his escape.
Each step was aching, panting hell, and Harry vowed he would hex the little bastard into next year. If he ever made it out of the Great Hall. Suddenly his classmates were surrounding him and Harry sighed, realizing it was time for first period. There was no way in fuck he was going to Defense Against the Dark Arts like this.
“You all right there, Potter?” Draco was waiting at the Great Hall doors, easily ahead of Harry given the Gryffindor was taking small measured steps and biting his palm with each movement.
“I'm going... to fucking... kill you,” Harry grunted between steps, glaring down Draco's smirking face.
“You'll have to catch me first. And I just don't see that happening.” Draco gave Harry a long, assessing stare, his hand twitching to touch the Gryffindor's tight ass in the buttery leather pants. Harry looked fucking sexy. “I have to know; is it a snug fit?”
Harry growled, well aware Draco was not talking about the clothes, only making the blond’s smile wider when the Slytherin added, “Because I can adjust it if its not.”
Harry narrowed on Draco's right hand, fingers casually twirling his wand. “Don't you fucking dare.”
“Harry. Come on, you're blocking the—” Hermione back peddled before she could trip over Harry, who suddenly fell to his knees, head bowed, hand wedged between his teeth. Ron grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling, glaring at Draco who had stalked forward.
Eyes squeezed shut, Harry tried to pull above the absolute agony as the thickness inside him grew, spreading his channel wider and lodging in deep. Fuck... he was so hard. He could barely sense the rest of the world around him, everything focused on the mind numbing, excruciating ache.
“Potter, have you explained to your friends what this means?” Draco drawled, slowly running his fingers over the mark on Harry's throat. Harry's neck and face were bright red, brows furrowed, mouth gasping around his hand. When he finally opened his eyes, craning back to see Draco, his green eyes were dark with lust, all defiance gone.
Forgetting himself, Draco stared down into Harry's burning gaze, feeling light-headed. He ran his fingers over the ragged slashes on the brunette's face, touching tenderly. Harry's lids drooped and he pressed into his hand. Draco slowly extracted Harry's hand from the death grip of white teeth, noting that he had drawn blood.
“We know what it means, Malfoy,” Ron snapped. “Now take this shit somewhere else. I have no interest in seeing you two...” He trailed off, unwilling to put the thought into actual words.
Draco ignored him, pressing his fingertips to Harry's mouth, wet heat opening and red tongue flicking out to taste his soft pads. “Potter, I will see you third period.” He breathed out shakily, feeling Harry nip his fingertips. “Do try to behave.” Draco forced himself to step back, knowing if he didn't soon he would lose his will to make Harry suffer a little longer.
Harry bit his lip, shaking his head lightly to clear the haze from his mind. Draco had disappeared down the hall, shrinking the plug back to previous size before mixing into the crowd. The loss of the Slytherin was strange, taking a lot of the heat away and leaving Harry feeling lonely.
Harry's friends were staring down at him with a mixture of emotions, Seamus once again laughing raucously.
“Someone help me up, please? Uh, carefully,” Harry asked, reaching a hand out and letting Ron haul him up. He stood long moments, eyes closed while his body adjusted to the plug within.
“We're going to be late,” Hermione reminded, eying Harry suspiciously. “Do you want us to drop you off at Madame Pomfrey's? She can fix your back up in a jiff.”
Harry shook his head, moving gingerly. “I'll go alone. I'll meet you all in class.” Waiting for his friends to go ahead, Harry slowly made his way to the nearest loo so he could deal with his problem in peace.
Of course, the sodding butt plug would not come out. Harry had struggled with the blasted thing for fifteen minutes before giving in to a rough wank and bearable compromise. He had found a way to shrink it down to a near thin one inch diameter even though he couldn’t remove it. Harry prayed Draco had not used the same sticking charm that was currently holding the Slytherin sixth and seventh years to the castle walls.
Even small, the plug was a distracting nuisance. But at least now Harry could sit and bend without pain, or becoming achingly hard with a need to loudly vocalize it.
The next two classes went by in a hot blur, Harry sitting at his desk trying to ignore the occasional ache and clenching of his ass. Worst was the fact that everyone was looking at him. Not just because of the outrageous clothes Draco had dressed him in, or even the cuts and bruises. Rumor had gotten out about just who had put the bite on his neck, and everyone was whispering about it. And naturally, Harry's dormmates had no problem gossiping with the curious Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as if he wasn't sitting right in front of them.
“Oh, you should have seen Malfoy. The little beast had Harry up against the wall... Actually, that was by the Great Hall, too. With Harry on his knees today, and on the wall yesterday, maybe they have a thing for food,” Seamus pondered to his Ravenclaw cohorts who were giving Harry lusty looks as their second period class let out.
Harry tried to ignore them, instead remembering that he hadn't eaten breakfast because of how he had woken up. And then he had been so hard, the idea of adding food to the mix had been a stomach ache waiting to happen.
He stood up gingerly, deciding a quick snack was in order before third period and Care of Magical Creatures with Draco and that damned wand of his.
Harry was foot in the kitchens when he growled and turned around abruptly. He had a stopper firmly plugged to the ass end of his digestion system. Adding food to said system would not end well. Fucking Malfoy.
First stomping and then quickly realizing his mistake, Harry made his way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where his next class was.
Draco had waited until everyone was paired off and hunting for pixes through the forest before he made his next move. He had noticed Harry seeming just a little too comfortable with his new addition and Draco's suspicions were raised when Harry caught sight of him through the trees and easily began taking large, angry steps to try and catch him.
Waving his wand, Draco smirked as Harry froze, groaned, and then lurched to his hands and knees in the dirt.
“Fuck... oh fuck... kill you,” Harry whimpered, chest heaving for air as he tried to adjust to the growing thickness deep within him. He had thought by now he would have gotten used to it but his body clearly disagreed, clenching and tightening around the overwhelming length.
“That's what you get for cheating. You should have asked if you wanted it smaller,” Draco said, not unkindly as he sauntered up to Harry's panting form. “Potter, have I mentioned how fucking hot you look? I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends or I would have said it earlier.” He ran his palm over the back of Harry's ass and the leather stretched there.
Harry gave a chocked laugh. “Embarrass?” He was crawling around with a butt plug and raging hard on, but heaven help if Draco complimented him.
Getting his point but not caring, Draco bent down and grabbed Harry's hair, pulling the boy's face up. “I'll give you an option. You can spend the rest of your day with that very pretty new accessory or...” Draco paused, running his thumb slowly over Harry's lips and spreading saliva there. “Or you can try and convince me otherwise. I remember you being quite good.”
Harry gave a low moan at the proposition, his tongue flicking out and tasting Draco's skin.
“Well?” Draco pressed when Harry made no move except to gently nip his thumb between hard teeth.
“Okay.” Harry pushed himself off his arms, kneeling back with brows furrowed as his ass clenched from the change. Opening his eyes, he looked up at him hungrily. Draco tried not to melt in the gaze, something in Harry's expression making his heart trip with more than just lust.
Refusing to think of it, Draco tightened his grip in Harry's thick hair, rubbing his bulge against the boy's cheek.
Harry closed his eyes, breathing Draco's scent and feeling the rough fabric against his face. He slid his hands up the outside of the blond's thighs, fanning fingers over his hips and then seeking out his fly. He pulled Draco's pants aside slowly, watching his long erection spring forth, straining forward from knowing Harry had been aching and full since waking that day.
Harry kissed slowly, lips parted and yielding to Draco's hot length. He tentatively ran his tongue up the side, taking his time and thoroughly tasting Draco.
Harry had rushed that night when Draco had been chained. He had been holding himself back, trying not to take too much from the Slytherin since Draco had not known who he was. Now Harry could savor the boy who had readily claimed him. Now he could show Draco what it would be like to be his... If the stubborn git would only submit to it.
“Oh... oh.” Draco watched, jaw slack and eyes wide as Harry's mouth made love to his cock. His grip loosened on the brunette's hair, letting his fingers feel the soft fringe tickle while Harry slowly kissed and licked.
Harry ran saliva coated lips over Draco's length, making his way up to the sensitive tip and probing with his tongue for the sharp tang of precum at the very top. Slowly he opened his mouth wider to Draco's thickness, lips yielding and tight around the head, and then pulling back off, leaving wet trails of fluid.
Draco's knees felt weak, and he leaned forward, resting his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry gripped his hips steadily, keeping Draco from falling as he opened up to the boy's long cock again, taking more in before pulling away.
“Oh... Harry, please,” Draco said breathlessly, lids slit open, head bowing down. Harry looked up at him, his eyes dark and lips flushed, chin dripping with saliva. He opened his mouth wide again, sliding lips over the side of Draco's length and pressing his flat tongue in rough swipes, pulling soft, desperate sounds from the blond.
And then Harry was swallowing him down, Draco plunging deep into his hot throat.
“Fuck... What are you doing to me?” Draco muttered hoarsely, hands finding Harry's head again and tangling his fingers in the silky strands. Harry answered by bobbing in long, drawn out movements, lips clenched snug and wet.
Draco shuddered when Harry looked up again, his heart tightening from some raw nameless emotion. He came with a low cry, his hips held still in a steel grip as he shot deep into Harry's mouth. Harry held him there long moments, tasting cum and cock while Draco panted and gasped.
Pulling away reluctantly, Harry licked his lips and gently tucked Draco back in. He zipped him up and buttoned him tight, then grinned up at the blond's dazed expression.
Draco was looking down at him still, eyes glazed as he trailed fingers over the healing cuts on Harry's face. Harry's smile faded and he swallowed heavily. He very much wanted to take Draco and show him the other ways it meant to belong to him.
Instead, Harry nipped at Draco's fingertips, his eyebrows raised inquiringly. “Come on, prat. You promised.”
Draco nodded slowly, Harry's voice raspy and delicious. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and twirled it idly. Something about Harry was making him crazy... Made him want to do terrible sweet things. It was an unsettling feeling and Draco thought maybe he wouldn't let Harry blow him again if the Gryffindor was going to insist on being so romantic about it.
“Potter, push your pants down,” Draco finally said, focusing on Harry instead of the concerning thoughts in his head.
Harry did as he was told, unzipping the leather pants and pushing them down to his thighs, naked underneath, the material resisting and catching on his damp flesh. He was hard, his cock red and in need, something he planned on dealing with once the damn butt plug was finally removed.
Draco pushed him forward until Harry was on hands and knees and then traced his wand down the brunette's lower back. Harry shivered from the sensation, Draco moving until his wand was centimeters from his stretched entrance. Then Harry sensed it, the wicked smirk Draco was sending his way right before the plug expanded.
Groaning, Harry braced himself, thighs spreading involuntarily, hips rocking forward. “Malfoy... you ass,” he grunted, Draco smacking him lightly on his tight backside.
“Don't worry, you'll like this,” Draco promised, tapping the plug in Harry's entrance. The thick length began to move in and out of him in slow thrusts. Draco took a step back so he could watch as Harry thrashed.
Harry fell to his elbows, head resting on the ground, long desperate moans being pulled from his lips as he was fucked slowly and deeply. Draco knelt before him, pulling his head up to watch the delicious agony twist on Harry's features.
“Oh, you like that, do you?” Draco murmured, kissing Harry's cheek as the boy gasped and shuddered. “How do you like it, Potter? Hard... fast... deep? Tell me what you like.”
Harry moaned, far too overcome to speak. Draco wasn't daunted, licking a tear from Harry's face as the boy became unhinged. “I think you're a bit of a romantic. I think you like things slow... and big.” Draco tapped his wand again, adding another half an inch to the thickness taking Harry slowly.
Harry cried out, sobbing from the consuming, overwhelming ache of being so full. Draco held his head and shoulders, supporting his weight as the brunette's hips bucked in rhythm to the movements taking him.
“Fuck, Harry... my gods.” Draco stared at him, eyes wide as Harry took it all in and quaked. The boy was so fucking beautiful... so fucking raw, and honest, and beautiful... Draco wanted him so badly. Needed him. If only Harry would stop being so stubborn and just claim him already. Instead of insisting he admit to the feelings welling in him unbearably.
Draco surged forward and kissed Harry's gasping mouth, unable to watch any more. Harry's kisses were uncoordinated and sloppy, the boy's body exhausted and trembling from the plug plunging inside him. Draco didn't care, moving his tongue over Harry's jaw, down his neck to the mark blazing on his throat.
“That's it, Harry. Take it all in... You can do it.” Draco added another inch to the length, feeling Harry shudder when he felt it shift and hit deeper. “That's it.”
“Can't... uhn.” Harry's arms gave way and he fell forward across Draco's lap, face gasping in the dirt and the grass as the plug began to increase in speed. “Dra...co.”
Draco bit his lower lip, hand reaching out to gently touch the flesh stretched wide between Harry's tensed cheeks. The plug had small ridges, forcing the flesh to contract and stretch repeatedly as it plunged in and out of the moaning boy. Draco slid his hand behind the aching hole, finding Harry's balls and squeezing lightly.
“Do you want more, Harry?” Draco turned to where his face rested, dirt smearing the brunette's face and lips. “Tell me what you want.”
Harry moaned, rubbing his forehead against the grass in absolute agony. His chest, neck, and face were flushed deep red, and his chest was heaving wildly. “Please,” Harry choked out and then bit his palm until it bled.
Licking his lips slowly, Draco reached beneath Harry's rocking hips and sought out his thick, leaking arousal. Harry howled at the first touch and Draco smirked, tightening his fingers around his straining cock. He pushed his palm to the tip, giving Harry something to thrust into while the boy bucked against the thickness fucking him.
Draco watched Harry's face, seeing the moment an instant before and at the same time feeling it against his fingers as Harry finally gave in and came. Draco stilled and shrunk the plug immediately, knowing the agony it could cause if left in after orgasm, and let Harry moan into the dirt, seed spurting into Draco's hand.
“My gods... you are so...” Draco trailed off, unwilling to voice just what he thought of Harry just yet. He carefully removed the plug from his ass, spelled it clean, and tucked it away. Harry was groaning softly, head still lolling mindlessly. Pulling his leather pants up trembling legs, Draco gently moved his legs from beneath Harry's hips and rolled the boy over.
Fuck, but he was beautiful. Even with the dirt, saliva, and sweat. Draco kissed Harry deeply, tangling into his sweaty locks and tugging until Harry responded. Then he pulled back, wiping some of the dirt off of his face as green eyes blinked up at him. “Next time you find me tied up and nude and I tell you to fuck me, you better fucking fuck me. Got it, Potter?”
Harry nodded after a long moment, lips twitching. Staring thoughtfully, Draco stood up, running a hand through his hair. With a backwards glance to Harry, he walked away with hands in his pockets, not bothering to say goodbye.
Draco skipped the rest of his classes that day, feeling depressed and confused. He hid himself away in the Slytherin seventh year dorm, all his other dormmates currently indisposed of around the castle ceilings and leaving him to the room alone. Draco used the extra space to brood.
Finding, fucking, and claiming the boy that had caught him while blindfolded had seemed like an extremely good idea at the time. Draco's beast had been very insistent upon just how good an idea it was. But the boy had turned out to be Harry. And Draco had problems with Harry.
Two years ago, moments before his beast had woken up, Draco had realized he wanted Harry. And he had attempted to beat the boy's skull in because of it.
Slytherin had lost to Ravenclaw and Harry had been laughing to the Ravenclaw seeker like an ass. Then Harry had glanced at Draco, green eyes bright with hidden thoughts, and Draco's heart had flipped. The bastard had been breathtakingly beautiful.
When Harry commented on how Draco probably would have caught the snitch if not for the elbow to his face, Draco had snapped and tried to throttle him.
Draco's beast had woken up in that moment with him staring down as Harry blinked up in surprise to find himself pinned by the furious Slytherin. And then Harry had licked his lips, and Draco saw the dark shift in the green eyes, the low demanding call to come to him and stay forever.
Startled and confused, not only by the new vicious presence in his head, but of also finding one in Harry, Draco had rolled off, stood, and gotten the fuck out of there. He had spent weeks thinking and learning how to deal with the beast within, and small, quiet moments rare and far between wondering about the one in Harry.
Draco had done a very good job in forgetting what he had felt for Harry, repressing until he didn't have to worry about falling for the fucking Golden Boy. And if he had indulged in some harmless staring, maybe even flirting during Potions class, it was hardly a damning offense. Potter never seemed to notice, never seemed to have a beast to respond back. But as much as Draco had run from his feelings, his own damn beast had been determined to win.
Biting Harry had been wrong. It had been a mistake, one that Draco could not take back. Because now when Harry looked at him, he couldn't help but respond. He couldn't hide from Harry anymore. He couldn't hide from himself anymore. It was terrible.
Draco awoke deep in the night to find Harry standing over him in the dim torchlight. He had not bothered to shut his bed curtains, allowing Harry an unobstructed view of him topless in pajama bottoms where Draco had fallen asleep while reading. Dully, he wondered what time it was. That was, until Harry shifted and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the ground.
Green eyes regarding him heatedly, Harry kicked off the boots Draco had lent him, and then removed his pants. Draco pushed up to his elbows, watching the boy strip. Still not speaking, Harry crawled down the mattress, hands bracing on either side of the blond's prone form. Reading him for long moments, Harry dipped his head and kissed Draco gently.
Eyes fluttering shut, Draco pressed back, opening to the touch of Harry's tongue. Harry pushed him back onto his pillow, kissing deeply, slowly, until Draco felt heavy and out of breath.
Harry ran rough hands down his sides, running underneath his pajamas and rubbing softly over his ass and thighs. When he tugged at his waistband, Draco lifted his hips, allowing Harry to move down his body and take his pants off.
Harry knelt, staring down at Draco as the pale boy softly panted. He ran fingertips over the blond's flat stomach, and then bent, dragging his tongue down to the dip, and plunging into his bellybutton. Draco squirmed, moaning softly.
Harry's hands moved to the back of him, fingers gently probing his entrance. Draco raised a knee, turning his hips to the side to give better access as Harry began to stretch him. Unhurriedly, Harry twisted fingers into the boy's hot hole, nipping at Draco's stomach and chest while he did.
Harry ran his palm up and down the thigh Draco had raised, eventually pressing and urging the boy over onto his stomach. Draco settled carefully, erection pressed hard into the mattress as Harry breathed hot breath over the dip in his lower back and down to his pert behind.
Draco gasped, Harry's tongue roughly licking down the crack of his ass, teasing into the recess and moving towards his entrance. Draco bit his wrist, trying to stop his low keening wail when Harry finally made it to his prize and languidly probed his entrance.
Harry steadied the blond's hips as the boy spasmed. He pressed his tongue into Draco's tightness, tasting his mate, recognizing and meeting him all at once. He soothed fingers over his hips while laving down to Draco's balls and then back up to delve into his entrance and taste again. He stayed their long minutes, stroking inside the blond, feeling Draco clench and shake with each touch and driving thrust.
Sighing, Harry released him and pushed himself up. Slowly he lowered his weight on top of Draco's lithe form, nuzzling into his neck and licking. Harry frowned, becoming aware of wetness on his cheek where he was kissing the blond's jaw. The beautiful gray eyes were full of tears, few spilling free as Draco gasped in need.
Harry kissed him again, burning and passionate until the boy was moaning. Pulling away, Harry shifted his hips, guiding his cock to Draco's entrance and slowly sinking in. Draco opened to him readily, more tears spilling free as his eyes squeezed shut from the feel of being filled by Harry.
They rocked slowly together, Harry moving slickly through Draco's passage in long, gentle thrusts. Harry's weight crushed down on him, the sheets caressing Draco's skin. He moaned lowly, mouth wide in delicious agony as Harry took him slowly and completely.
Lips resting on Draco's turned cheek, Harry finally spoke, his voice a low murmur of desire. “Are you ready to tell me, Draco?”
Tongue flicking thoughtfully, Draco slowly shook his head. “Not yet.”
Harry smiled against the boy's skin, knowing he was winning the Slytherin. Harry had waited three years. He could wait a little longer.
Grabbing one of the pillows scattered at the head of the bed, Harry lifted Draco's hips and settled it beneath them. Draco spread his thighs, knees pressing into the bed as he pushed back into Harry's heavy thrusts.
He ran his hands over Draco's sweat soaked skin, palms pressing firmly everywhere he reached as he slowly and sensually pumped into the boy's clenching body. Draco's cries were getting louder, more insistent, but Harry would not increase his speed from the languid, burning pace. He wanted Draco to remember how it felt, know what it would be like if he only gave in that last bit.
Hands fisting the sheets above him, Draco stretched his body, pushing back against Harry's thighs, trying to bury the boy deep and keep him there while Harry tried to pull out. Harry pressed forward into the gripping heat, Draco taking the weight as he pushed back, his orgasm nearing.
Hanging at the edge, back arched, thighs and ass clenched unbelievably tight, Draco felt Harry come, jetting into him as his hips bucked. Crying out, Draco's orgasm tore through him, stealing his breath as his cum spilled onto his pillow.
Harry fell against him, sweaty and sated. Still embedded deep in Draco, he settled and closed his eyes. Draco didn't complain, the heat and feel of Harry's flesh very welcome as he gasped for breath.
He wanted Harry to bite him. Wanted the boy to claim him properly. And in that moment, that idea wasn't so bad to Draco.
Maybe tomorrow... Maybe.
Draco woke alone in his bed, trying to figure out if it had all been a dream. Faintly he thought he smelled Harry in his sheets... Hand straying down and behind, he probed softly, feeling the boy's seed dripping still warm from his body heat. Draco gave a shattered moan and closed his eyes.
Breathing deeply, he wondered if he would ever find his sanity again.
He got up, realizing that he was late for breakfast and very hungry. Draco showered quickly, pausing when he considered what to wear. Maybe something Harry might appreciate... like well fitting torn jeans and a tight tee. Instead of pushing his hair back, Draco let it fan around his face and neck, remembering how Harry had liked to run his hands through the strand while they had been drifting to sleep.
Draco grabbed his bookbag and made his way to breakfast. The Great Hall was full, students getting in their meal and talking about their weekend plans before Friday classes started. Draco sat in his normal seat, now quite spacious with the six and seventh year Slytherins still incapacitated.
He glared up at his classmates stuck above, the four still looking very uncomfortable in their upside down perch. The beast rose up in him at the sight, still full of hot hatred for the group that would have left him for dead. Draco knew they felt far worse then they looked, and he was glad for it.
Reaching for some kipper, Draco glanced up as Harry sat down across from him at the table. Eyes straying over the gorgeous boy for long moments, Draco resumed filling his plate, determined to eat before breakfast was over and not think about how last night had left him feeling strange and weak.
Harry gave a small yawn, resting his head in his hands and staring blankly down at the table. He had not slept much, not that night or the one before. Looking up at Draco's hands as the blond spooned food onto his plate, Harry didn't have any objections. Not for his tiredness, or bruises, or rather sore backside. He was feeling pretty damn good, all things considered.
Draco's prank had been torturous but unexpectedly arousing. And at the end, when Draco had basically fucked him with his magic, Harry was certain that there was nothing quite so damn maddening. Except... maybe Draco's long length, hard and driving into him.
His beast certainly didn't have a problem with the idea, also surprising to Harry. But Draco's bite had done something to the creature. Had snared it and collared it, and although it still enjoyed the hunt, it thought being prey had a thrill to it as well. Anyways, it all ended in hot fluids being spilled.
Eyes downcast as Harry mused these thoughts around in his head, he waited silently for Draco to finish eating. The other students moved from the hall in groups as the time for first period approached. Harry waved to his friends briefly but made no move to leave when they rambled by.
Draco finished his breakfast, sipping on a glass of juice to wash it down. Harry looked tired... and maybe a little solemn. He reached across, touching the cuts on the brunette's face. Harry opened his eyes slowly, staring.
“I'm going to have to heal them today,” Harry said. “I have to take care of some stuff at Gringotts this weekend. I thought maybe you'd want to charm your handiwork?”
Draco nodded, feeling a small sinking in his stomach at the realization that Harry would not be around for the weekend. He took his wand out, carefully knitting the flesh back together until no signs remained of the slashes he had made.
Harry caught Draco's hand when the boy turned his aim to the bite on his neck. “Leave it. That one stays.” He kissed his pale fingers, rubbing his cheek against them and sending butterflies through Draco's stomach that he tried to squelch. “Ready?”
Heart in his throat, Draco nodded again, extracting his hand from Harry's warm grasp. They got up, taking bags and books with them, and walked down their respective sides of the table until reaching the end.
Now that he could reach, Harry grabbed Draco, kissing him hard, stepping into him until they were crushed together. Caught off guard, Draco dropped his bag and wrapped his fingers in Harry's hair, kissing back hot and desperate, not realizing how much he had wanted to until that moment. Then he pushed Harry back and stepped away, trying to regain his senses as the last of the students left the Great Hall.
Harry glared at him, panting while he ran his fingers over where Draco had bit his lip moments ago. He reached, trying to capture Draco's arm and pull him back. But the blond slipped away, ducking for his bag and turning towards the door. Harry followed quickly, walking beside him, eyes straying over the boy distractedly. He touched Draco's shining white blond hair, flowing silky and loose for a change. “You look nice. You hardly ever wear jeans.”
Draco nodded, eyes flicking to Harry's possessive gaze and quickly looking away. “Well, you know my family. Have to keep up appearances, and that rot.” His step faltered as Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulder, but that seemed to be all the boy was going to do, so he kept walking.
Their classmates were waiting in front of the door to the potions classroom, Snape still hidden away until first period officially started. Harry didn't remove his arm from Draco once reaching his friends, and Draco didn't really want the touch to stop, so he kept quiet about it.
Alone with Harry, things seemed slow and heady. But with other people, the world sort of sped up and got loud, much to Draco's annoyance. The bouncing Finnigan could have had something to do with it.
“Harry, perfect, we were trying to figure out something.” Seamus welcomed them over, moving aside so Hermione and Ron could see as well.
Harry pulled his gaze reluctantly away from Draco's bowed head. “Hmm? What's that?”
“Seamus, stop. It's rude,” Hermione broke in, glaring at the boy. “I'm sure they have a perfectly good reason...” She blushed as Harry turned his gaze to her. “Ignore him. It's no one's business but your own.”
Harry raised his brows at that, wondering if somehow someone might have figured out the hell he had been through yesterday with Draco's butt plug prank. Draco didn't look particularly malicious though, which would be expected right before walking into a Malfoy style ambush. “What?”
Hermione sighed and Ron glowered and crossed his arms over his chest. “They want to know more about the bite,” Ron muttered.
Seamus nodded. “The mark. We were wondering why Malfoy didn't have one.”
“Ah.” Harry clicked his mouth shut, really not sure if he wanted to explain why he hadn't bitten Draco. Draco distracted him from the issue, huffing and pulling out from underneath Harry's arm.
“Because the stubborn git has a conscience,” Draco said with a scowl, clearly not pleased about the subject. Harry went to hold the boy again, but Draco was having none of it, his anger raised at the memory of their first encounter when Harry had refuse to fuck and claim him when the opportunity had been given.
What the hell did that mean of him, biting Harry even while his higher functioning mind had known it was a stupid mistake to get caught up with the Golden Boy? Fucking Harry and his fucking self control and scruples.
“Seamus, drop it,” Hermione ordered, seeing Draco's annoyance and how Harry was acting in response. “Like I said, its not our business.”
“I know, I just wanted to know what it means when only one is marked,” Seamus said curiously. “I thought a mated pair of beasts had matching marks. Not that you see many beast much these days.”
“They do,” Harry said carefully, watching Draco stiffen at the words. “But just because some of us have very strong instincts, it doesn't mean we feel comfortable giving in... At least, not until certain things are known.”
Draco looked about ready to hex Harry across the hallway. “And some people are just so fucking repressed, they don't know to stop fighting and just accept the situation for what it is.” He looked Harry up and down, huffed in disdain, and then turned to Seamus. “Finnigan, you want to know what it means when only one is marked? To the beast it means that its chosen just doesn't give a fuck. It won't protect its mate, won't defend its territory, and certainly won't fight off any potential suitors. Its a clear sign that the relationship is one sided and doomed.”
Harry sighed in exasperation. “No it’s not. Not really.”
Draco raised a brow, anger crackling underneath his calm exterior. “Really? How about you have a chat with your beast and see what it thinks about it.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry stood long moments, his expression slowly growing grimmer as the seconds ticked by.
“Well?” Draco pressed, hands on his hips.
“My beast thinks that you're a willful, vicious pain in the ass.” Harry held his hand up to stop Draco from retorting. “And to capture one as powerful and enthralling as you, it has chosen to use cunning instead of brute force. Because it knows, as well as you and your beast, that for a claiming to actually work, the stubborn prat human mind has to fucking give in.”
Harry was glowering, head held high and eyes in slits as he turned towards the classroom door that had finally opened. Snape gave them all a hard look as he sensed the tension in the air, and then stepped aside so the students could file in. “The final steps of your potions are at hand. Instructions are on the desk if you have questions. I will be in Lab 2.” He did not disappear right away this time, narrowing his eyes on Harry and the mark on his throat.
Harry didn't feel like dealing with a snapping Snape, so he stepped into the room quickly and started going through his notes.
Draco was such a stubborn ass. All the time really, so Harry had no idea why he let the boy get to him anymore. But he couldn't stop himself, like little fire ants stinging at his skin every time the sexy prat opened his mouth. It was either bicker with the boy, or shove something between the Slytherin's very pink lips before he had a chance to say something snarky...
Harry paused at that thought, turning his gaze to Draco's fuming form as he scribbled furiously on his notes. Draco looked nearly untidy with his hair free, wearing jeans and a band t-shirt. Sure, the fabric clung in very attractive ways, reminding Harry very well of what was under it all… But Draco looked sort of messy and that was damn hot. Almost rain, quidditch and mud hot.
Harry peered closer to see what Draco was writing, only to scowl at the lewd swears and Harry's name filling in the margins. “Malfoy,” Harry growled. Draco stiffened but didn't turn, writing another line about fucking coward Gryffindor beasts that don't know how to fucking take what they want like proper.
Harry grinned then, dark and heated, and pressed into Draco's back to whisper hot breath against his ear. “Is that what you want, Malfoy? Me to force you to submit?” Draco hissed, writing another line, this time about clueless fucks, and no fucking duh, shithead.
Harry nuzzled into Draco's neck, the boy still tense and quite livid before him. “After you tell me that you're mine, I will fucking take what I want, Draco. Whenever I want it. I have waited... Watching you watch me, want me, and hide from it at every turn. You will tell me. And it will be fucking loud when you do,” Harry promised, abruptly pulling away from Draco, who was swaying weakly on his feet, holding the desk for balance.
But Draco was still glaring, his eyes burning between anger and lust, and Harry knew just how long that fire could last in the stubborn, beautiful boy. Anger was Draco's first and favorite weapon of choice, his defender and protector from everything that made him feel overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, a lot of that was currently Harry and all those many feelings he was certain Draco was still running from.
If Harry was going to get through to Draco, he knew he had to get around that anger. He had to strike when Draco was unsuspecting and calm, not bristling and murderous. That's why he had went to Draco last night, waking the boy from sleep. And that's why Harry would wait long days until he touched Draco again, until the Slytherin was lost and aching for him.
As much as Harry knew Draco's anger, he knew the boy's lust. It would not take long to bend the blond to him. That was another problem. Because as Draco made sure their potion didn't turn to a smoldering evaporated mess of cauldron, along with their combined grade, Harry couldn't help staring and wanting to take the stubborn git. Draco was peering down, biting his lip in concentration as hazy steam rose up from their cauldron. Hair fluttering around him, the boy looked rather angelic.
Maybe he would fuck him over by the bookcase on the wall, where he would be able to position Draco to just the right height and the blond would have something sturdy to grab onto...
“Potter, get your hand off my ass,” Draco hissed lowly, glaring around to see if any of the Gryffindor students had noticed. They had, bloody observant wankers. Draco swatted at the damn nuisance that was Harry Potter, only to have the brunette step up, now both hands tight on his jean clad behind as he pressed into him boldly.
Shit. Fire was quickly tingling through Draco, tightening his muscles under Harry's hands, his breath quickening and body very much responding.
“Seriously, you two. Have some consideration,” Ron muttered. “This class is difficult enough without me being sick.”
Draco glared, annoyed to have been interrupted by Weasley. Even though moments ago he had been adamant that if Harry so much as looked towards him he was going to hex the bloody bastard... Pushing the thought from his mind, he glanced back at Harry's bowed head, green eyes looking particularly steamy. “You all are pretty rubbish at potions. Well, except Thomas and Granger.”
“Yes, we are. Maybe you should have thought of that before cursing all your housemates,” Neville spoke up with a sigh. Pansy had been a right mean bitch, but she had been determined to make sure they passed.
Draco shrugged, not feeling particularly sorry. The Slytherins had deserved it, and to be honest, now that his housemates weren't cursing and hexing the Gryffindors' potions whenever they got a chance, the group was improving. Even Longbottom. But that thought was short lived, Harry's hands suddenly deciding that holding wasn't enough, and began rubbing Draco's ass.
“Potter, this is not my thing,” Draco stressed as he was pushed forward, thighs hitting the desk. He was very much annoyed to be touched in front of anyone, never mind a room full of Gryffindors that didn't even have the courtesy to look away while Harry pawed at him. “Wait till lunch, or something...” he trailed off, Harry's hands moving to his hips and pulling him back so he could feel how Harry was hard and didn't want to wait.
Harry breathed against his neck, watching the soft bright strands move with each puff. “No one cares, Malfoy,” he murmured, slowly grinding against Draco's ass as the Slytherin tried to keep from making that moan Harry liked to hear so much. Shaking his head, Draco tried to push him away since he couldn't move forward. It did not have the effect he had hoped for, Harry's grip and energy raising in intensity as the blond bucked against him.
“Potter, you fucking waste... let me go...” Draco snarled, but Harry had his mouth on the back of his neck, teeth biting, tongue laving, and it was getting very difficult to pull out of the heat. Maybe it had to do with the cauldrons shimmering, turning the air a steamy purple color...
Draco closed his eyes, his head bent down as he gripped the desktop and tried not to give in. All Harry was doing was rubbing against him. It wasn't like he was spread out over the desk or anything. He could resist this... had to... He was fucking surrounded by Gryffindors!
“Potter, I am going to count to five. If you are not off me by then, I am going to hex you. Do you understand?” Draco bit out.
Harry, of course, responded by running hands down the front of Draco's soft cotton tee, and then his jeans and pausing at the boy's growing bulge. “Try it. Let's see what happens,” Harry challenged, not caring in the slightest that he had told himself only minutes ago that he wanted to avoid getting Draco angry. Draco was fucking hot when he was angry. Why wouldn't he want to annoy the sexy prat until he started hexing?
Draco had started counting, only to get lost at three, trying to remember if he had said four yet or not. Harry was moving slowly, achingly slow, and it was reminding him of that crazed, suffocating dream of last night where the Gryffindor had been so gentle... so very, very thorough... his tongue driving and persuasive inside him and... oh…
“Four, Malfoy. It comes after three,” Harry encouraged, his mouth wide and sucking on the flesh beneath Draco's ear.
Draco inhaled sharply, Harry rubbing particularly hard while finding the edge of his shirt and slipping under. “I'm going to kill you,” Draco groaned, his legs spreading, hips moving with Harry's persistent grinding.
“Not if you don't get to five,” Harry teased, fingers now fiddling with Draco's waistband. “If you only knew how you looked.” Harry's voice had become very hoarse, a soft, broken moan trying to pull free that he buried against the blond's throat.
And Draco had to wonder blearily just how the two of them did look, with Harry trapping him, tanned hands moving over his pale flesh while their hips kept forever rocking. The mental image made him arch, body lengthening and bowing back as Harry ran strong hands over him. Then Draco caught sight of the other occupants again and remembered they were not even remotely alone.
This was so not okay. Draco shook his head and then made a fist, his claws biting into his palms until blood trickled. He reached for his beast, more than enough sex energy moving through him to call it loud and strong. “Five,” He announced with wet lips, right before reaching up and behind him, grabbing Harry's chest and shoulders, and hauling the boy over his back and head, and throwing him across the large room.
Harry, the bloody coordinated bastard, rolled and landed in a simple crouch on the ground, managing not to hit the wall, or desks, or cauldrons. It was actually quite an accomplishment, which Draco admired quietly as Harry stood, power raising with the explosive Gryffindor.
If Draco didn't know better, he'd say Harry had liked his show of strength. A lot.
“Nope, this is actually worse,” Ron muttered in exasperation, trying to put himself between Harry and his precarious grade. “Do not fight in here. These cauldrons are sensitive.”
Harry was grinning, staring Draco down and ignoring the wands suddenly pointed his way in defense. But Draco noticed them and he turned to stare incredulously at Harry's housemates. “What, you're going to curse your Golden Boy?”
Hermione snorted, stepping forward towards Harry. “If you knew the stuff Harry gets up to when mad like this, you would understand. Nearly had to kill him after you first woke up, the way his beast was raging over you. He asks us to, just to keep him from destroying the castle.”
Draco raised a brow at that, turning to look Harry up and down. “Now who's the one in control, hmm Potter?” He taunted, Harry always so damn smug about his power over his instincts.
Harry didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed, his grin widening to manic. “Mione, he's not talking,” Ron pressed, eyebrows raising and head tilting to get the girl to do her thing. But Hermione hesitated, looking instead to Draco. “Malfoy, can you fix him? You are his... well... mate, and all.”
Draco again ran his eyes over Harry, taking in his tensed muscles, clawed fingers and very prominent erection. Draco could do something... but fix? He delved deep, talking to his beast.
The beast didn't think Harry needed fixing either. Just a good, hard fuck.
Eyes glazed for a moment, Draco slowly refocused on Harry, who looked about ready to hunt him down and maim him. If he did, Draco was certain he would enjoy the experience. “Come on, Potter. You're freaking your friends out.” Draco walked slowly to the classroom door, eyes never leaving Harry as the boy continued to stare. “Hurry now, before I get away.”
With a wicked grin, Draco slipped out the door and started walking down the hall.
Draco heard Harry crash through the bathroom door, not bothering to turn as the boy strode up behind him and breathed down his neck.
It was amazing to think all the time they were suddenly spending together, and yet still couldn't make it through a full conversation about anything. Last week they had been flirting, and laughing, and even talking about quidditch and school during their potions partner work. Not that Draco had much to say at the moment. Just that he was becoming concerned that if he felt sex starved and lust driven every time he saw Harry, it might become, well, exhausting.
A good exhausting, he thought as Harry gripped his shoulders tightly, but maybe a bit boring after a while. He would have to work on expanding their interactions a bit... Later. Much later.
He turned in the grasp, noticing the brunette looked almost sweet without Draco's slashes on his face. Harry was staring at the blond's hands, looking at them in awe. Draco raised them, watching as Harry's eyes followed, and then his hands, tentatively brushing fingers to fingers.
“Draco... You threw me across the room.” Harry's voice was rough, eyes hazy like a summer day in the forest.
“Yes, you did seem to like that.” Draco watched Harry's face as the Gryffindor continued to play with his hands, fingers caressing and then biting in, only to jump back and sooth over again.
“You're strong,” Harry whispered, dragging his gaze up to Draco's. “When you bit me, I could feel how strong... how powerful.” Harry swallowed, fingers twining with Draco's as he held himself still.
“Do you want me to show you how strong I am?” Draco asked, stepping forward and tightening his grip on Harry's hands.
“Yes,” Harry breathed out, eyes wide and lips parted.
Draco stared long moments. Harry's expression was similar to right after Draco had claimed him and very reminiscent of only yesterday, Harry's face streaked with dirt and sweat, and rubbing against the grass. Fuck.
The gorgeous idiot was going to drive him crazy.
Draco released his hands and stepped forward, pushing Harry back and stumbling across the room and up against the door. Draco followed, locked the door with a loud click, then pushed Harry's wrists up on either side of his head. Harry was grinning crookedly, face flushed as he stared intently at Draco's mouth, waiting for a kiss. The expression was very sweet, annoyingly so.
Why couldn't Potter just stick to the whole angry, forceful fucking, and stop trying to be romantic? Draco didn't want romance. He didn't want softness, and sweetness, and to feel the damn ache that kept twisting in his heart every time Harry looked just so at him.
Growling, he grabbed Harry by the shoulders, pulled him forward, and then slammed him back into the door. Harry hissed, glaring back. But still he smiled that sweet way and Draco grabbed the boy by his biceps and lifted Harry, pushing him up while the brunette stared down at him in surprise.
“Fuck,” Harry grunted, fairly certain Draco was angry at him when the boy, still holding him high in the air, turned and threw him. Harry narrowly missed crashing into the sinks, but his hands and face hit the mirrored wall and cracked the glass, leaving a bleeding wound on his cheek and raw sting to his palms.
Harry carefully straightened and turned, taking in Draco's burning eyes and dark grin. Yup, Draco was fucking pissed, the boy's energy pulsing in large cresting waves. And yes, he looked damn fucking sexy when he was angry.
“What's wrong, Malfoy? Rather be back in class?” Harry taunted, taking a step forward and pushing back against Draco's magical aura that was filling the room. Draco seemed to like that, Harry coming at him, and he took another step, and then another, straining against the pressure until he was face to face with the glaring blond.
Draco grabbed the side of Harry's face and dug his thumb into the cut there. Harry clasped unyielding fingers on his wrist, pulling the hand away and glaring back into the angry silver eyes. “You've mussed your hair,” Harry pointed out, using his free hand to take a chunk of the white blond locks and twist.
Draco laughed harshly in the hold and then pushed Harry hard, once again sending the boy backwards across the room. Draco's head stung where Harry had nearly taken his hair with him but he didn't care, stalking forward, turning Harry and slamming him face first into the mirrored wall.
Dazed, it took Harry a moment to notice that the hands pushing him forward were pulling at his pants, roughly fighting with the clasp to his jeans and tearing at his fly. Harry glared blearily into the mirror, finding Draco with a vicious grin on his face as he stared at him and tore his pants down.
Then Draco was pushing against him, his rough jeans and bulge rubbing against Harry's bare ass. Harry moaned, enjoying how Draco seemed to suffocate him with his scent and heat, arms wrapping around him and claws digging in where they chose.
“You want me to fuck you.” It was more a statement than a question, but Harry nodded anyways, just to make sure Draco wouldn't think to stop. “Good, Potter, cus I'm going to fuck you.” Draco slammed his shoulders into the wall, pulling another groan from Harry.
Harry licked his lips, a slick rush of magic moving inside him where Draco was pressing his wand to his entrance. He wondered if that was how Draco had gotten the butt plug in yesterday, only to cry out, knees suddenly failing him, when Draco pressed his cock against his entrance and surged forward.
“Oh gods... could've... fucking... warned...” Harry trailed off, Draco's length forcing its way in, widening his channel and stealing his breath. It was as intense as the butt plug, even more so because Draco gave him no time to adjust. It didn't tear him—the spell had prevented that—but the size and thickness was absolutely overwhelming.
Draco fucked Harry like he fought, unbridled, and brutal, and fucking owning him. And Harry pushed back as he took it, trying to gain some sort of leverage against the glass, seeking out Draco's face close beside him. Draco caught the gaze, holding it as he snarled at Harry.
Harry wasn't quite sure what the hell Draco was so angry about, but it felt fucking fantastic.
Hands tightening on his hips, Draco pulled Harry's off of the wall, spreading the boy's shaking legs wide and forcing him to stand without support. Harry moved his arms above, grabbing at Draco's neck and shoulder for something to hold to. Draco grabbed Harry's hair, forcing him to stare at himself in the mirror while he continued to slowly thrust into the boy.
“You look like a right slut, Potter.” Draco pulled at Harry's shirt, pushing it up to show off Harry's straining erection. He didn't touch it, just allowed Harry to see how hard and red he was while Draco filled him. And Harry had to agree, his face terribly flushed, eyes dazed and streaking tears, and mouth very wide open as he moaned and panted.
“Draco... please.” Harry could barely stand, his legs quaking under the strain of his own weight and the unbearable feel of the blond moving inside his slick passage. And either Draco took pity on him, or could no longer stand to see his expression, because he pushed Harry back up against the wall, burying himself in deep.
Fingers pressed against his mouth, and Harry sucked them in, licking and wrapping his tongue mindlessly around the digits. Draco thrusts were changing, slowing in pace but increasing in force, fucking him slow, and deep, and hard.
“Ask me nice and I'll hit your prostate,” Draco demanded, biting Harry's ear hard. Remembering vaguely of the way Draco had screamed when Harry had found his, it sounded like a damn fine idea.
“Please?” Harry whimpered, brows furrowed as the fingers in his mouth began sliding over his lips, dripping saliva and forcing him to follow with his tongue to chase them.
“Nicer than that,” Draco said with a dark chuckle.
Harry groaned, pushing back into the hips that had stopped moving. “Please Draco... fuck me... come on!” He whined, nipping at the fingers to spur the boy on.
Draco was outright laughing now, the fucking prat. Harry forced his heavy head up, catching Draco's gaze in the mirror. “Malfoy, finish what you fucking started—Fuck!” Harry shouted, Draco suddenly driving into him and hitting something that ached and sparked red behind his eyes.
“Oh fuck.” Harry fell forward into the mirror, Draco pumping into him with abandon, bruising his hips, and shoulders, and chest against the wall with every thrust. “Fuck yes... oh yes... more... Draco... more.” Draco was his beast, fucking raw, and untamed, and damn, damn big inside him.
“Potter, you sound like a whore,” Draco growled, biting at Harry's neck in sharp deep pinches. And then lingering on the mark on Harry's throat, tongue laving and teeth sinking in. Harry jerked as Draco bit him again, reclaiming him and making his heart ache for it. “Draco... Draco, I'm...”
Draco heard the unbridled need and reached for Harry's length, the hard flesh bobbing with every thrust he took. He quickly ran his hand across Harry's stomach, using the sweat plus saliva of earlier as a quick lubrication, and wrapped his fist around the brunette's cock. Harry shouted loudly, moving into the touch and then pressing back against Draco.
Fuck, but Harry wanted it bad. Draco felt dizzy from the plain need in the boy. Even now, even with him being brutal and rough, Harry still needed him. Still needed his touch, and his presence, and... fuck. Fuck Harry Potter and his fucking sentiment.
Harry gave a low cry, his body clenching, cock swelling and spurting against the mirror and Draco's hand. Shifting, Draco dug fingers into the boy's hips and slammed into him, trying to erase the feeling of sweetness Harry's voice and expression had left in him.
Harry gave low, long moans as Draco continued to fuck him, his body aching inside and out. Especially inside, Draco's cock shaping him brutally. This was what Draco needed right now, Harry realized wearily as he leaned his face on the cool mirror. Needed to not feel so weak around him. Needed to not feel so vulnerable.
“You're almost...” Harry could feel it, could feel how Draco swelled inside him, and he clamped his muscles tight in response, wanting the blond to shout. But Draco just hissed against his neck, grinding into him and marking him deep inside with his hot seed.
But Harry needed too and when Draco pulled out of him and cleaned himself off, he turned and pulled the blond back, kissing him deep. Draco let him, opening to his tongue, kissing back just as passionately and needy. Then he growled again, pushing Harry away and glaring.
Harry was not surprised when Draco left this time, the blond slamming the door behind him. He didn't know whether to feel glad that Draco very clearly had some emotions concerning him beyond the lust of his beast, or frustrated that the closer he got to discovering said emotions, the more vicious Draco came when pushing him away.
Harry slowly cleaned himself up, using magic to keep any awkward fluids from appearing later in the day. Then he healed the cut on his face and the cracks in the mirror, his mind strangely empty.
He returned to class, knowing Draco wouldn't be there, and watched over the potion that the Slytherin had shown a genuine interest in. Harry let his friends chat to him about inane things he used to really enjoy while quietly he thought.
He had once thought of a lot of things before Harry had seen Draco chained and stretched out nude. Then the rest of the world had sort of melted away in a red haze of lust and need when his beast had roared in his ears, unwilling to let the opportunity go. So loud, until Harry couldn't stop but touch Draco's beautiful, bruised body.
He had fought with the beast then, struggled not to take Draco without true consent, without honesty and fairness. Because even if Draco wasn't Voldemort's, it didn't mean he was Harry's. Even when the beast roared otherwise.
Harry suspected if he did claim Draco, did give the beast what it kept loudly demanding, it might finally settle down again. Might stop the maddening throb he felt every time he caught sight of the blond. And Draco wanted to be claimed. He understood the Slytherin's anger about it earlier, about the beast feeling unloved and unwanted without the mark.
Still, Draco had to admit his feelings. Harry would not yield. Not on this. Not even if it destroyed him. Draco would tell him. He would make him. As strong and powerful as his beast was, Harry was stronger, and dare he say, far more determined. He had fought with the beast many a time over the last three years, and he had always won. Always. He would not lose on this either.
Harry didn’t see Draco again for the rest of the day. He lingered at lunch, and then at dinner, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin, but Draco never ate. Harry assumed he was holed up in his room again. He could have gone to see, could have caressed, and kissed, and tasted the obstinate boy until Draco gave in and spread to him, like the night before. But there was too much to do, what with packing and getting his financial documents ready for the Goblins tomorrow. And then Ron and Hermione wanted to 'chat,' which was their way of ambushing him into listening to all their many—few valid—concerns about the 'Malfoy Issue.' And once Harry had fended that line of conversation off with a big, its none of your bloody business rant, they started on about how the Dursleys were kicking him out now that he was of age and out of school and shouldn't he want to move in with them at their place for a bit.
Maybe Harry should have wanted to move in with them, had even thought of it seriously when he had first received the note from the Goblins that he was being 'disowned,' as the Dursleys had put it. But Harry had realized that his friends had greater expectations on who he was and was supposed to be, than first thought.
It wasn't necessarily a poor thing, just that it created a lot of pressure. Pressure Harry didn't want to have to deal with on a daily basis from his friends, never mind the rest of the damn wizarding world. As it was, he could barely escape Ron and Hermione with a whole castle to hide in. What would it be like in the small apartment Ron's brothers had helped them find?
No, Harry would deal with the Goblins tomorrow, deal with his vaults, and seek some place quiet to live once he was free of Hogwarts. Hermione wanted him to jump in, rush to the next big thing while he was fresh from school. But really, Harry didn't give a fuck what Hermione wanted for him. He wanted to figure out what he wanted instead.
And how Draco Malfoy was going to fit into it.
That was the big issue, wasn't it? Harry loved the vicious, cold hearted, hot blooded prat with all he had in him. Loved his taunts, loved his snarks, loved his bitchings... There were probably some good things that he loved about Draco as well, but he couldn't really think of them at the moment.
The Slytherin was an ass, all said and done. Not a Death Eater, but still a right bastard. And at some point, Harry had begun to find it endearing. Sometimes infuriating, but still, Draco was damn adorable when malicious. And Draco was adorable a lot.
Draco had bit him. He had claimed him. Had taken the opportunity again that very day, even when clearly angry, to make sure Harry knew that he belonged to Draco. It was an unspoken commitment. It meant Draco wanted to stay with him, possibly forever.
At least, as long as it took for one of them to kill the other, in what apparently was turning out to be a normal occurrence of rage between the two.
Harry didn't know what Draco wanted to do after school. All he knew for certain was that he wouldn't be running off to join the Dark Lord. Maybe there was a job the blond wanted? Some sort of dream he'd been seeking to catch once free of Hogwarts?
It bothered him that he didn't know because Harry didn't know how he was going to fit in with what Draco wanted. If he even could.
“Damn it Malfoy, put your wand down!”
Draco had never heard Hermione swear. Part of him wanted to laugh out loud at the outlandishness of it. But mostly, he really wanted to hex someone and Hermione was standing in the way of Lavender, his current target.
Lavender Brown, giggling like an idiot during potions while she whispered to Seamus about Harry running off to get away from Malfoy, had been the last straw for Draco's questionable sanity. He was fairly certain of this fact, holding his wand chest level with the annoying bint. It seemed the other Gryffindors were certain of it as well since they were all pointing wands at him.
“Listen, Malfoy,” Ron said carefully, trying to calm things before Lavender ended up in smoldering pieces. “We don't want to hurt you—really, Harry would get pissed—but you need to stop what you're doing.”
Draco glared, still staring the girl down as if doing so long enough would make her incinerate before his eyes.
He was losing his shit. He had known it since Harry had failed to show up on Monday. Fine, since last week when he had first gotten the scent of Harry and sex, and needed to claim the pain in the ass. He was not being himself, he understood. But really, he didn't fucking care anymore.
“Tell me where Potter is.” Still pointing his wand at Lavender, Draco turned his gaze to Ron. “Tell me, or she's going to be missing fingers.”
Ron blanched, grabbed Lavender by the shoulders and pulled her aside. “Stop being an ass, Malfoy. You don't need to threaten anyone.”
Eyes narrowed back to Lavender, Draco was pretty sure it hadn't been a threat but a promise.
“For god sake, Malfoy, calm down,” Hermione said irritably. “Harry will be back soon. He just had some family problems to deal with that took longer then planned. Put your wand away already.”
Draco slowly and reluctantly put his wand in his pocket, still glaring at the annoying twit who would dare suggest Harry had left him. “When? It's already fucking Wednesday. When will he be back?”
“We don't know. Some sort of legal confusion came about. He needed to get all his things from the house and store them. He didn't go into it with us too much, just said he was busy.” Now that Draco had disarmed, the rest of the Gryffindors did as well, although Lavender was walked to the other side of the classroom to finish her work away from Draco.
“Doesn't your bond tell you stuff like this?” Seamus asked. “Like, he's alive and okay?”
Draco snarled and sat heavily on the nearest desk. “No. Not without him biting back, the fucking ass.” Fucking stupid Potter. Why hadn't Harry told him he was going to be late? Shit, why the fuck did he even have to care that Harry hadn't told him? Fucking hell.
“When did you speak to him last?” Draco asked, needing to know as much as possible to stop his whirling mind. Because he still wasn't sure Harry was okay. Harry would have told him he was going to be late... Right?
“Sunday evening. Harry's guardians went out for the weekend even though they had arranged the time for him to get his stuff. They have to be there for the pickup.”
“But, thats days ago. How long is he going to wait?”
Ron shrugged. “Probably as long as they take. They're really terrible people.”
Draco scowled, staring at his shoes. This was fucking miserable, caring all the time. And it wasn't a nice, bearable quiet caring. No, it was this loud, retarded aching caring that made him want to hurt people. Or maybe just slam his head into the wall really hard a couple hundred times to stop having to feel anything at all. Fucking Potter.
“Someone, one of you lot, is going to tell me when he gets back,” Draco demanded. “The very fucking instant, or so help me, I will hunt each and every one of you down and put you next to my Slytherin brethren on the walls. Got it?”
The Gryffindors glared at Draco, like the stubborn lions they were. But then Ron chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You're fucking worried about him. Holy shit. This has got to be the craziest thing yet. And the two of you have been acting really crazy.”
“Shut up, Weasley,” Draco huffed, crossing back to his own seat. That cheered him a bit, knowing that Harry had been acting just as messed up as him. But Harry wasn't there, and that was just beyond unforgivable.
“The very instant!” He shouted to Ron, who laughed out loud in reply. Fucking Gryffindors.
Harry, through no fault of his own, had been delayed for greater reasons then just the disagreeable Dursleys. Lucius Malfoy, shining blond hair and icy cold stare, had cornered him outside of Gringotts on Wednesday morning, demanding—and he stressed demanding—to know what he had done to his son.
Harry did not feel like going into the many sordid details of what he and Draco had been up to, enjoyable as they were, and instead asked for a little more information to what Lucius was referring to.
“Do not play dumb with me, Mr. Potter. I have the official documents right here.” Lucius pulled a scroll from his pocket and unfurled it angrily. “He's bitten you. Claimed you. The damn Goblins need me to sign off on how to handle the bond gift. What the hell has happened?”
Ah. Wizards and there insistence on paper trails. Harry eyed Lucius, trying to figure out where all the anger was coming from. Lucius was no longer aligned with Voldemort so it couldn't be that. Maybe because Harry was a half-blood? Or a male? Or maybe just because he was Harry Potter, blah fucking blah of the wizarding world?
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say here, Mr. Malfoy. You have the paperwork. I think its pretty clear what has happened.”
Lucius shook his head sharply, cold anger radiating beneath his pristine exterior. Harry was reminded strongly of Draco before the prat opened his mouth and started hexing. But Lucius apparently had far more control. “No, it is not. The bond is incomplete. You're making a mockery of him, and the Malfoy name.”
Harry blinked, very much confused. “Wait... so you want me to claim your son?'
“Harry, I want you to ensure that Draco is not some unloved, unsupported jest. We purebloods take bonding very seriously. His mother has been having a fit since nothing has been received to reflect that you reciprocate his attention. He is of age. He is attractive, powerful, and wealthy. Get on with it already.”
It was a very strange day, Harry decided. Very strange. Hell, Lucius was talking to him like he was an actual person. Rudely still, but one couldn't expect miracles.
“Listen, Mr. Malfoy... err, Lucius. If it will set your mind at ease, I plan on claiming Draco.”
“When? It's been nearly a week,” Lucius demanded tightly, but his frown had lost a bit of its edge.
“When the prat can admit to his feelings,” Harry snapped back. He gave Lucius an assessing look, wondering if Draco's parents were the reason the boy was so messed up emotionally. “This is between your son and I. I apologize if it's causing you any inconvenience, but it's none of your bloody business.”
Lucius glared long moments, and then relaxed, his tension dissipating like a sudden summer shower. “We will have you over to the Manor once your school is out. Narcissa would like the opportunity to offer formal congratulations as would the rest of the family.” Lucius smiled then, still a bit grim, but a smile nevertheless.
Harry stared in shock, waiting to be hexed. There was no way Lucius Malfoy was smiling at him, especially after hearing he was bonding with his son.
“Er... Okay. If Draco agrees.”
“He'll be ecstatic,” Lucius said assuredly, and damn near polite. Harry looked around warily, wondering if someone was waiting to spring. This was bizarre.
He decided he wasn't falling for it. He pinned Lucius with a piercing stare and stepped forward. “What the hell are you playing at? You're going to pretend you're happy about this? I'm fucking your son—No parent is happy about that. Especially not the ex-lapdog of Voldemort.”
Lucius sighed in exasperation. “Potter, he is my son. My only child. And he has been infatuated with you for years. I knew this day was coming and I prepared accordingly.”
“What?” Harry narrowed his eyes, pretty sure Lucius was full of shit. “You left the Dark Lord for Draco?”
“I left because You-Know-Who has become so weak and insane that its only a matter of time before he loses. Draco is of age. His choices are his own. But,” Lucius paused, his frown a deep line in his face, “Draco was going to choose you. And he would have had to leave us to do so. I did not want that to be an option. It was fortuitous that my decision also took that situation away.”
This was fucking insane. Thankfully, Harry was saved the annoyance of having to believe and appreciate Lucius's intentions— there was only so much one could handle in a day— by a sudden explosion of light and wind as a spell bounced by. Exchanging glances with Lucius, Harry grabbed the man's arm and dragged him behind the large marble slab with the bank's name emblazoned on it. Spells flew overhead, and then a loud crack and explosion.
And if to prove how ridiculous the day was insisting on getting, together Lucius and Harry fired spells back until the air was filled with dust and flashes of light. Then suddenly an earth shattering crack filled their ears, the ground gave way, and darkness fell.
It was Bellatrix. A crazed, insane Bellatrix, that on seeing her traitorous brother-in-law talking with the boy-who-lived, hadn't been able to figure out who to kill first, so she had attempted to take them both out at the same time.
Which was fine, because Lucius made a surprisingly good shield when he pulled Harry up from the underground cavern he had nearly fallen down to his death. “Come on Potter. Before the bitch gets here.”
Harry stood wavering, trying to figure out what the loud ringing in his ears was. Then he saw her, dark hair crackling like snakes around her head as she cast another spell from across the plaza. Harry raised his wand to defend himself, but Lucius had already bounced the energy back before it even reached them.
Lucius was pushing him towards the bank doors, trying to get him to safety as Bellatrix raised more power. “Quickly Potter. Get out of here!”
It was the angry snarl on Lucius's face, Harry realized right before his beast roared up and took him over. It was too much like Draco's and he would never let anyone hurt Draco. While Lucius looked on, shield raised to protect them, Harry killed Bellatrix.
It was blackness itself when Draco woke up. Strange, unfamiliar sensations were assaulting him. He was cold... and something was on his face... fabric. His arms felt heavy... but, no. He was standing?
Draco shook at his weariness, trying to figure out what was going on. He couldn't see. There was a pressure over his eyelids reminiscent of a blindfold. His feet were cold, bare on the stone floor. And his arms heavy and held above his head with chains. But different from before... These were warm and leather instead of the cold pinch of hard metal.
He was nude. Nude and stretched out in the dark, Harry's scent strong in the air around him.
“I'm right here,” Harry murmured, hand brushing his shoulder. Harry's voice sounded unusual, hoarse and low as if he'd been yelling long hours. And when he pressed his mouth to Draco's cheek, he could smell dust and the faint tang of blood.
“Why am I here?” Draco asked, his mouth dry. Harry hummed into the flesh below his ear, licking slowly.
“Oh, I think you may know.”
“Harry.” Draco wanted to yell, snap at the idiot for taking off and not telling him. But Harry had pressed his body up against his and Draco couldn't help but gasp at the bare smooth flesh rubbing against his. “Oh, hell.”
“Either I have a kink, which if you could see yourself, you really wouldn't blame me, Draco. Or maybe, maybe I thought we could try this particular night all over again,” Harry suggested, hands moving up the blond's arms and slowly pulling down, over his chest and sides, and settling on his hips.
“Oh gods, do me Potter. Don't fucking hesitate and just fuck me,” Draco moaned, hips thrusting forward.
Harry chuckled, low and dark, and bit his shoulder hard. Draco cried out, back arching as he tried to move into Harry's embrace. But the brunette was elusive, slipping back and sliding hands over Draco as he walked around him.
“I'm going to fuck you, don't worry about that. But when, well that's up to you.” Harry pressed his palm against the side of his erection and Draco tried to thrust into it. But then Harry slipped away again.
“Potter, fucking... Oh!” Harry's fingers were suddenly moving down the crack of his ass, thumb pressing in and stretching his hole.
“You just have to tell me what I already know, Draco.” Harry leaned his chest against his back, pressing his hardness against his ass and grinding. “Its very simple. You just have to tell me who you belong to.”
Draco gave a shattered moan, not sure if it was Harry's cock or words that were making him feel so hot and weak.
“Hmm, you like that, do you?” Harry asked, running his hands over Draco's stomach and then up to his chest. He slowly plucked one nipple, and then the other, rolling and squeezing while Draco whimpered at the touch.
“Harry?” Draco whispered, head falling back against the boy’s strong shoulder.
“Yes?” Harry gently kissed the blond's cheek, and then his chin, moving up to press kisses to his nose and forehead and other cheek.
“I... I don't know how,” Draco breathed out, pressing his face into Harry's hands as the boy followed his kisses with touches, ending on his jaw to firmly turn Draco's head and kiss him deep.
Harry drank of him, hot and suffocatingly sweet, pulling Draco's tongue into his mouth, fingers moving down his throat and caressing. And in the dark it was somehow more consuming, pulling Draco's heart, making it well and burn until he felt the sting of tears. And then the trickle as they spilled over and streaked down his face.
Harry felt the wetness on his hand, pulling away to lick up Draco's face. “That's it, beautiful. Let go.”
“N-no.” Draco didn't want to let go. He didn't want to feel so damn much when Harry touched him. Even though he had missed it. Even though he had ached each night in the dark, hoping Harry would come for him to quench the fire raging inside. It was just too much to feel.
Harry moved around him, drawing him forward, pulling him tight against his chest. He cupped his hands to the blond's face, fingers brushing softly. And then his lips were pressing to Draco's again, somehow even softer then before, just a feather of pressure.
Draco gasped into the kiss, warm liquid pooling in his stomach and leaving him oddly rubbery in the knees. “Harry,” he groaned, panting against his lips.
Harry let his fingers move back, tangling in Draco's hair and massaging into his scalp. “Yes, Draco?”
“I... I want to see you.” Draco sighed, head moving back into the soothing fingers.
“Tell me you want me.” Harry tugged ever so gently at his hair, fingers digging in for the slightest of moments.
“Oh... I want you,” Draco whispered.
“Louder,” Harry pressed, tugging again a little harder.
Draco groaned, mouth seeking out Harry's lips, but the boy was staying just out of reach. “I want you,” he said loud and clear. He felt as Harry's fingers moved and unfurled the blindfold from his eyes.
Out of the darkness lit by soft candle light, Harry's face came into view. The gorgeous boy's eyes were glowing green in the low light, and...
Draco blinked, leaning his face forward and licking up Harry's cheek. “What's happened? You're covered in dried blood.”
“I'm fine, Draco. Just had an interesting day.” Harry let him clean his cheek with his tongue, and then turned his head so the boy could bite at his ear the way he liked so much. Then Harry pulled away and began to kiss down his throat, wide slick kisses that had Draco bucking his hips.
Harry hovered over one of his nipples, fanning hot breath over the little nub. Draco wiggled, trying to get Harry to lick already. “Tell me you need me,” Harry said with a smirk, meeting Draco's eyes as the boy glared down at him. When Draco didn't answer right away, Harry extended his tongue, centimeters from actually touching the pick ache.
“Fuck... fine. I need you. I fucking need you,” Draco muttered. Harry touched his sensitive nipple, and all annoyance left him to be replaced by the sensation of tongue, and mouth, and sucking, and teeth nipping. “Oh, yes... fuck, Harry. Fuck, I need you.”
Harry spent long, wet moments on each of Draco's nipples, hands holding the boy still as he shook before him. And then he was moving down again, hot mouth tasting Draco's ribs, and stomach, and belly button. He lapped slowly down Draco's navel, tongue teasingly close to his straining erection when he stopped again.
“Tell me you love me.”
Draco had been expecting another demand, just not that particular demand. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to block out Harry's haunting gaze. “Fuck... I can't. Don't make me.”
Harry stood, soothing fingers into Draco's jaw and dropping kisses over the boy's face. “Tell me,” he insisted, tongue and teeth marking the blond's pale skin. “I love you Draco. I adore everything about you, from your nasty attitude to your sweet, painful tears when it feels just so good,” Harry whispered into his skin, feeling the blond's breathing increase. “I love how fucking stubborn you are... and brilliant... and mean, you fucking prat. Now tell me,” Harry demanded, pulling back to stare into the awed silver gaze. “Tell me you love me.”
Draco slowly licked his lips, feeling pinned under Harry's eyes more effectively then the chains keeping him standing. “I... ah, I love you,” he breathed out, his face turning red the moment the words echoed in the room.
Harry didn't let him duck his head, cupping his cheeks and kissing him gently, achingly sweet, until Draco's head swam.
“Say it again, beautiful. I want to hear it again.” Harry slid his tongue over Draco's bottom lip, pulling, and nipping, and finally releasing.
“I love you, Harry,” Draco murmured, feeling dazed and very much on fire.
“Yes, again.” Harry's hands slid down Draco's back, down to his smooth ass and then the crack between.
“Oh... oh fuck... Harry, uhhn,” Draco whimpered, Harry's long fingers dipping inside him without hesitation, delving deep inside his hole and stretching. “Love you.”
Giving Draco a final heated kiss, Harry knelt and ran his tongue over his long length, stretching his lips wide and taking the boy deep inside him. Draco howled above him. Harry glanced up, catching the blazing silver gaze as he relaxed and let Draco fuck his mouth while he continued to stretch his entrance.
Draco's thrusts were slow, trying to contain himself with the fingers filling him so fully and Harry sucking so completely, cheeks hollow, tongue flat and rubbing everywhere it reached. “Oh fuck, Harry,” Draco pleaded, the damn tears finding escape from his eyes again. “Harry.”
Harry slowly released Draco's hard cock and licked up the sides a final time in parting. Then he was standing again, pulling his fingers out of his tightness and gripping his pale thigh up and around his hip. Harry guided the head of his cock to Draco's hole, rubbing slowly, but not breaching in.
“Last one, love,” Harry said breathlessly, mouth moving to Draco's ear. “Who do you belong to?'
Draco closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. “You, Harry.”
“Say it all,” Harry insisted, biting the curl of his ear.
“I... Draco Malfoy... belong to Harry Potter.” Draco lips gaped open, eyes fluttering as Harry pushed into him slowly, just the tip sinking in and stretching him wide.
“You do, Draco. You really fucking do. Tell me why.” Harry's voice had grown so rough, so low it was hard to hear, and Draco turned his head so he could read the boy's swollen lips.
“Because I love you... Because I need you and want you... And because you're fucking mine, Harry. You are mine,” Draco added with a groan, Harry thrusting in, sliding deeper, and sinking until he was fully impaled. “Fuck yes.”
Harry kissed him, demanding with sharp teeth and long tongue as he slowly fucked Draco, the boy clinging to his chains to keep from collapsing.
“Harry... please,” Draco gasped between kisses. “Need it now... Right fucking now.”
“You're mine,” Harry whispered, pulling from Draco's lips and moving to his throat. “You're fucking mine, beautiful. All mine. Always.”
“Always,” Draco repeated, feeling Harry's breath, and then teeth as they scraped across his throat. “Yes.”
Harry sunk his teeth in, cruelly clamping on Draco's throat and holding still as the boy thrashed in his arms and around his cock. He raised his magic as Draco's blood spilled, bonding the blond and his beast to him. To him forever... Or until Draco finally snapped and killed him.
“Harry... Harry... yes... oh harder,” Draco cried, rocking his hips and bearing down to remind Harry that he was still very much inside him.
Harry complied, hips thrusting in awkward, heavy thrusts that Draco responded to with broken sobs and bruised hips as the boy tried to get closer, tried to bury him completely inside. Then Draco was arching, ass clenching tight around him.
Harry couldn't hold back anymore and came, spilling into Draco. He quickly wrapped his fingers around the blond's flushed cock trapped between their bodies, pumping until Draco came with a final sob, hot fluids dripping over Harry’s stomach and hands.
They stood long moments, Harry still binding him, still claiming him deep inside, unwilling to let Draco go until he was one hundred percent certain the bond was beyond impossible to break.
“Harry, I feel it,” Draco exclaimed, eyes opening, head falling forward to nuzzle into Harry's dusty hair. “Your heart... your emotions... your ache. I can feel it all.”
Furrowing his brow, Harry finally extracted his teeth from Draco's throat, licking thoroughly to catch all the slick red dripping down over the pale flesh. He quirked a smile, feeling Draco's awe—and dare he say, genuine affection spiral through to him.
He reached up, releasing Draco from his chains and then lifting the boy, legs wrapped around his waist. They didn't have far to go, Harry turning and walking Draco to his bed, laying him down among the cool sheets and slipping in with him, their bodies entwined.
And if Harry mumbled just how much Draco was his as he caressed and licked his sweat-soaked flesh, Draco showed no annoyance to it, verbally or mentally.
“Harry, what happened?” Draco finally asked again once the brunette had finished his delicious ritual of licking and tasting every inch of him. “You have some bad bruises.”
Harry sighed heavily, burying his face into Draco's throat. “I killed someone today.”
Draco, eyes having drifted shut, shot awake at that, glancing at Harry's dusty locks. “On purpose?”
“Very much that,” Harry muttered.
Draco relaxed because if Harry was killing on purpose, then he had a damn proper moral reason for it. “I'm glad you're okay. I was... well, worried, I guess.”
Harry smirked into Draco's throat and then nipped sharply. “Ron told me. I figured I should get down here in person instead of risking one of them to tell you I was back.”
Draco's scowl was short lived, Harry licking over his mark possessively stealing his anger away.
“It was your Aunt.”
Draco glanced again at Harry's hair, hand resting now in the thick dark mess and massaging deep. He could feel Harry's self loathing, dark and bitter. “Bella was a psycho bitch. Her existence was agony for her, never mind the people she inflicted it upon. It was a mercy, Harry.”
Draco waited, breath held as he felt the self loathing fade, although heavy guilt remained... and then awe. Awe as Harry raised himself and stared down at his face.
“You astound me sometimes,” Harry murmured, kissing Draco soft and wet. And if he felt a bit of awe himself that Harry could ever look at him that way, Harry showed no annoyance to it verbally or mentally.
Instead the emotionally exhausted Gryffindor began biting down Draco's chest and navel, quickly raising Draco's energy, waking his beast and demanding the Slytherin fuck him until unconscious. And neither had any negative thought or annoyance to that idea at all, Draco burying deep into Harry, pulling long, heated cries from his lover until spiraling down into peaceful, dark sleep.
“Come on guys, I have to pee!”
Barely glancing at the Irish idiot that was Seamus Finnigan, Draco pushed the boy aside and dragged Harry's panting, flushed form into the train's small bathroom. He spelled the door shut, only to have Harry push him onto the shut toilet lid and quickly undo his belt buckle as he knelt between the blond's knees.
Draco watched, eyes glazed as Harry pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants and briefs. Harry pressed his face to his length, mouth opening wide as he rubbed and moaned against Draco's thick dick.
“Potter, you fucking slut. Wrap your lips and suck already,” Draco hissed, eyes momentarily rolling back when Harry obeyed.
They had not had an opportunity to do more than kiss for a day and a half, too busy packing, graduating and saying goodbye to long friends... And other pointless shit that seemed to pale in comparison to Harry sucking Draco down in deep.
The bond had strengthen since Harry had bit Draco, not to the point of reading minds or anything crazy like that, but definitely to the point where Draco could feel just how fucking hard Harry got when he talked dirty to the boy. And Harry made it fucking easy to talk dirty, moaning and eager for Draco's dick whenever he looked at him. “Fuck yes... suck it down, Harry. All the way in.”
Harry made a delicious choking sound, his excitement once again getting the better of him. Draco watched, eyes slit as the boy bobbed, green eyes turning towards his to pin, and tease, and taunt as Harry brought him to the edge and let him hang there.
“Fuck, fucking finish me, or I will open that fucking door and let all your friends see what a huge slut you are,” Draco promised, grabbing Harry's hair and thrusting into his open, hot mouth. Draco could feel the effect on Harry, the words making the boy dizzy and ache.
“You and that fucking kink,” Draco muttered, pulling out of Harry's wet heat to cum all over his tanned face. Harry just moaned, the streams of hot liquid undoing him, mouth slack as Draco rubbed his wet tip against Harry's lips with bruising force. “Is that what you want, Potter? To have everyone see just what a big—and I do mean big, you fucking thick pricked giant—impatient, slut you are?” Draco asked, watching as Harry opened his eyes, agonizing lust twisting his features.
“Or do you want to show them how you can bend me, hold me down, and fuck me hard? I could open that door right now, Harry. What do you want them to see?”
Eyes gaining a bit of focus, Harry glared, stood, and hauled Draco up and pushed him forward against the sink. Harry muttered one of the blond's very favorite spells into his entrance before tearing his fly down and sheathing into Draco in one hard thrust.
“Ohhh... Oh, fuck!” Draco cried out, allowing Harry to cover rough fingers to his mouth to keep from screaming too loud. Then Harry fucked him, hard, and brutal, and possessive, until Draco's hole was raw and aching from the feel of his Gryffindor pounding into him.
“Oh fuck, that's it Draco... Oh, you're so fucking tight,” Harry growled, fingers bruising into Draco's hip as he slammed the boy forward, forcing Draco's head against the dirty wall and changing angles so he could hit that very loud spot inside his mate. And Draco got very loud, very tight with each wild thrust Harry forced into the boy.
“Y-yes... don't stop,” Draco begged, making Harry smile and bite his shoulder through his shirt.
“Now who's the fucking slut, hmm? Look at you, fucking taking my cock with a line of people waiting outside. Cutting everyone, just so I would... fucking ruin you,” Harry grunted, his voice getting hoarser and dark with each word.
Draco really had no rebuttal, his mouth widening, tongue pressing flat against the wall and moving mindlessly as Harry increased his desperate, savage pace. He could feel Harry's thickness inside, slickly jolting deep, deep within. His own thighs so tense and hole so stretched wide and sore.
Harry had gotten very good at the dirty talk too, something Draco was enjoying a lot. No way in hell he'd let Harry fuck him in front of people, but he could still give the boy the next best thrill of knowing people could hear them.
“Oh gods... Oh my fucking hell.” Draco arched, stretching his back as he renewed his grip on the sink, spreading his legs and pushing back into Harry as the brunette bit him again, this time on the side of the neck. “Fuck Harry, come inside me. Do it, you fucking beast.”
Harry did, pressing Draco's head into the wall with his palm, hips snapping as Draco's thighs bit into the sink and Harry exploded deep inside. He slowed his wild thrusts but didn't stop, filling Draco slowly and fully as his cum dripped down the blond's thighs and pooled on his trousers.
Harry grabbed Draco's renewed erection and pumped in rhythm. Draco groaned, gasping out his release onto the sink and silver faucet, eyes shutting as Harry buried himself in deep, pushing forward unyielding and pinning him there for long, aching moments.
Harry eventually withdrew once their combined breathing had slowed enough. He cleaned them both up, along with the small bathroom, looking far too smug for his own good. His green eyes were laughing as Draco struggled to keep his knees from knocking.
“You vicious, sexy prat,” Harry murmured, kissing Draco and throwing the door open with a slam. Draco ignored the many annoyed and blushing stares to kiss Harry again, noting that Harry took them all in with a lazy smile, the kinky shit. The train only had one working bathroom currently and at least a dozen people were waiting as Harry lead Draco like a prize down the hall to where his Gryffindor friends were waiting.
Together they would be getting off at King's Cross Station and Harry would be temporarily staying at Malfoy Manor, just until he finished the final arrangements for the flat he had bought. Warding was the hold up, and not something Harry would allow to be half-assed since Draco had been attacked by the Slytherins and Harry was still Voldemort's favorite target.
The idea wasn't too horrible, not since the strange morning he and Lucius had spent killing Bellatrix and then later that afternoon with Lucius and tea while reporting to the Aurors about the incident. Draco's father wasn't half bad. Not to say he wasn't a selfish, evil prick, but he had Draco's interests at heart and Harry could respect strong family loyalty.
Ron was muttering to himself when Harry opened the compartment door, glaring at the two of them as they sat, Harry pulling Draco into his lap. “I could fucking hear you two all the way down here. Made Hermione put up a silencing spell just to shut it out. Bloody wankers.”
Huffing, Ron pushed his chessboard towards Draco, who had rudely left half way through their match to pull a very horny Harry away to shag.
Hermione shrugged, trying to get in the last of her reading before she had to deal with hugs and farewells at the station. “He's just angry because you were actually beating him in chess.” She patted Ron distractedly on the shoulder and turned a page.
While Draco slowly and deliberately destroyed every one of Ron's players on the board, Harry sat back and thought, hands straying over Draco's hips and back.
Draco, studious prat that he was, had told him he was thinking of opening up a potions shop, mostly of more complicated pieces that could be made on order. Harry, thinking long about it, felt he could probably supply some of his fame for Draco, just to get customers in the door while he figured out what he wanted to do. Certainly not make potions everyday for the rest of his life. But as long as it involved being near enough to grind against Draco when the urge took him, it really didn't matter.
Draco swatted behind him as Harry's hands began to squeeze the blond's ass with interest. Connecting with the side of Harry's head, Draco peered back and stuck out his tongue. Harry pulled the boy back against him, letting Draco squawk in a fluster of tangled limbs while Ron nearly missed saving the chessboard.
“Fucking hate you two when you're like this. Could have been beating the shit out of each other like proper, but no. Fucking wankers.” Ron killed Draco's knight, forcing Draco to smack at Harry until the boy stopped kissing him and he could continue the game.
Draco won, much to Ron's torn distress. Ron was tired of winning all the time but he apparently was a sore loser. Something he had not realized until the Slytherin had beaten him five times in a row.
Neville and a very pissed off Seamus eventually joined them. And then Dean, just to stop Seamus from yelling at how long he had had to wait to pee while the two bastards were shagging like rabbits.
Draco ducked his head, feeling Harry's very kinky interest in Seamus's anger about the incident, especially when the Irish pain kept going over how he could hear every bloody breath the two were making, never mind the mind scarring words. Draco was not surprised when Harry hauled him up and whirled him against the door, kissing him soundly while Seamus then bitched about that.
“Thomas, will you shut that idiot up!” Draco snapped, pushing at Harry fruitlessly while the brunette attacked his throat and collar with lips and teeth, hot palms moving over his stomach, ass, and thighs. “Potter doesn't need a bloody narrator to add to this fetish.”
Draco met Harry's heated gaze, a silent war raging between them as Harry begged and pleaded to be able to fuck him then and there, and Draco promised he would fucking kill him if he so much as tried.
And so help him, Potter fucking tried, hands reaching down to the front of Draco's pants, flipping at his zipper and sinking long fingers inside to wrap around his hard prick and pull.
So Draco grabbed the love of his life, whirled him, and pushed him through the compartment door, wood splintering around him as Harry sprawled back, grinning like a bloody fool for getting as far as he had before being stopped.
Glaring, Draco zipped himself back up, picked Harry off the ground by his thick hair, and pushed him down the hallway and back to the bathroom. The growing line stared warily, reluctantly stepping out of the way as Draco shoved his mate brutally into the small bathroom and punished him with his cock. Harry's favorite punishment.
Naturally, Harry was very loud about it.