𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒?

Part III

"Harry, I..." the fair-haired man began again but Harry interrupted him abruptly "Yes, Malfoy?"

Draco looked at him for a long while, the realization dawning in his cloudy grey eyes, and then he lowered his gaze to the ground.

Harry shook his head.

"What did you want to tell me, Malfoy? Maybe how much you enjoyed last night?" he suggested mischievously, a smirk on his lips.

Oh well, if this isn't a blushing Malfoy... Harry thought, noticing an unusual red tinge colouring the pale skin of Draco's cheeks, behind his untidy platinum locks.

The fair-haired man didn't answer.  Actually he couldn't, because he felt something like a black cloud of anger, sadness and disbelief obscuring his mind and leaving a single painful answer: What's wrong with me?

When Draco found enough courage to lift his silvery gaze on Harry, the black-haired wizard was completely dressed and ready to leave.

"Well," he said, approaching the bed. Draco looked at Harry. The Gryffindor raised his hand until his fingers were brushing the skin of the Slytherin’s cheek, and then raised his hand again and raked his fingers slowly through his fair hair. Draco closed his eyes and shivered involuntarily while Harry laughed, drawing back his warm hand and that sense of frightening certainty it took with it.

Harry stepped back and searched his pocket. Finally, he laid some crumpled notes on the bed, next to Draco and he turned, really ready to leave now.

"Har... Potter," Draco called, his voice back to his old angry drawl.

Harry turned towards him and looked at him interrogatively, arching his eyebrows.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Those," he said pointing at the one-hundred-pounds notes abandoned on the white sheets. "It's too much."

Harry smiled, a soft evil smile that Draco had never seen before on the Golden Boy's lips, not even when the pale Slytherin had insulted him and his friends with his nastiest words. And this was the reason why, looking at that dangerous curve of Harry's lips, the fair-haired man barely resisted the urge of trembling.

"Really? They're only one thousand pounds. You should have a better consideration of yourself, " Harry stated grinning.

Then, he shook his head and went on, with his voice smooth as silk but cold as steel.

"Actually, I think that there's no price for what I had tonight. Really, a Malfoy, Draco Malfoy begging to be fucked by Harry Potter. It's something invaluable in my humble opinion. You, fighting the pleasure I was giving you and losing helplessly in the end... and the shame in your eyes... What bothers you the most, Malfoy? Having been forced to be my whore for a night or having enjoyed it?"

Draco shook his head tiredly and looked straight into Harry's eyes, trying his best to hide the hurt that filled his grey gaze.

"Why are you doing this Potter? This isn't you..." Draco said, his voice sounding empty.

Harry chuckled and smiled again at the fair-haired man, a bit more sweetly this time: "My, my, Malfoy... Maybe this wasn't me... But it's me now. And about my reasons... I'm doing this basically because... I can," he finished shrugging.