Wot In The Harri Potter?

41 - The Thief

Oh, hell, this is so awkward.

"You don't have to go," Draco says as I climb off the bed and quickly begin to whip up my clothes off his bedroom floor, embarrassed to be doing this in front of him naked.

But I don't want to cuddle or do any of that pillow talk stuff. And to be honest I am surprised Draco is suggesting it. His mantra had been to 'dip and quit' throughout the entirety of fifth year.

Or had it? I don't really recall as I was too wrapped up in Fred to notice.

Fred. Don't. I experience this gut wrenching churning inside of me. And I know it's not only heartache from missing him, but guilt at what I'd just done with Draco.

"Harri, stop," Draco says, reaching out from the bed to grab my wrist, preventing me from retrieving my tights which he had earlier ripped to shreds in his need to get them off me. "If you leave now, like this, then things are just going to be awkward out there."

I look at him, trying not to let my eyes linger upon his wilted cock which is flopped exhaustedly across his stomach. Instead my eyes rake over his left arm, the Dark Mark in plain sight, rippled across tendons and muscles.

I swallow. "I don't feel comfortable, being naked like this with you."

His eyes flash in amusement. "We literally just fucked. I had you beneath me, on top of me and then screwed you like a dog. Now you're shy?"

He tugs my arm, pulling me to him, and I find myself relenting, dropping my clothes to the floor and allowing him to cocoon me back in his arms.

He presses his lips against my scar, and I emit a contented sigh, recalling how Fred used to do the same after sex.

But this is not Fred. This is Draco and he smells different - expensive. I nuzzle my face into his neck, just breathing him in.

"I thought you didn't cuddle after sex?" I ask, my lips moving against his skin.

"I do with the ones I want a second round with." I feel the lift of his jaw, and I just know he's smirking.

"Are you saying you want to do this again?" I ask, lifting my head up to look at him.

His eyes flash in mine. "Why not? It was good."

"Good?"

"Yes, good. I had an enjoyable time and I noticed you did too. What else do you want me to say about it?"

"I don't know, that it was amazing? The best fuck you've ever had?"

He looks at me, his silver eyes twinkling as his lip twitches up at the corners. "What if it wasn't the best I've ever had?"

Ouch. That kind of hurt.

I smack his shoulder. "Then you lie!"

He chuckles softly. "I don't lie about sex. I may lie to get girls into bed, but never about the sex itself."

"Well, I assume all of what you told me before this happened wasn't a lie?"

He falls silent and leans his forehead down on mine, his arms holding me a fraction tighter. "Contrary to what you may think, Potter, I never intended for this to happen."

"Are you talking about becoming a Death Eater or fucking me?"

A beat. "Both."

"You never intended for you and me to fall into bed together?" I say, focusing on the wrong thing here. "Not once, after all these years did you even entertain the idea?"

"Of course I entertained the idea." He drawls, trailing a finger down my arm, making me shiver. "I've always been attracted to you, and there's most certainly been a fair few fantasies in my head. But no, I never intended to cross that line with you. Not after what happened with Pansy."

"Fantasies?" I say coyly, not being able to help but smirk. "Tell me about them."

"Get a life, Potter."

"I have one and it's shit, so please do make it better by telling me how exactly you fantasise about me."

"Fine. There's my favourite - the one I usually like to use - where we do exactly what we just did."

"Your favourite fantasy is doing it on a bed?"

"My favourite fantasy is having you," he brushes his lips against my scar, "in my bed," then kisses my nose, his lips eventually finding my mouth, "on my sheets."

My breath hitches as he gently nibbles my lower lip, and I find my heart racing quite uncomfortably fast.

"And who was better. Me or the fantasy me?"

He lifts his head and his eyes pierce mine. "The fantasy is really just my hand and a good imagination. You can't possibly beat the real thing."

Wow. That does something to me. I'm not sure what. But I don't even recall seeing Fred look at me the way Draco is looking at me right now.

His gaze is so intense that I have to look away. My skin flushes hot and my heart pounds so fast.

This guy is so smooth, it's no wonder he manages to get so many girls to fall into bed with him.

I quickly sit up. This is wrong, I can't be here like this with Draco.

"I've got to go," I say quickly, hopping back off the bed to once again gather up my clothes.

This time he doesn't stop me, and I rush into his bathroom where I hurriedly slip my clothes back on.

When I come back through into the bedroom, Draco is still lying on his bed naked, his hands behind his head and not seeming to care that his dick is still in full view.

I hesitate, wanting to talk to him about what he told me before we were interrupted by crazy sexual tension. Now we've actually had sex, maybe we could get through a conversation without trying to hump one other.

"Draco we need to talk." I say, trying not to focus on his dick which was no longer floppy but rather alert looking. "About Dumble-"

"There's nothing more to say," Draco interrupts, anger flickering over his face. "I should never have said anything, especially to you."

"You're not seriously going ahead with this crazy plan, are you?" I ask. "Because you will end up in a cell next to your father."

"Better that than being dead in a grave next to my mother."

His words frustrate me. Can't he see that he may end up dead anyway?

"We can go to someone." I try, practically begging him now. "Get help."

"Like who?" He scoffs, looking angrier than ever. "Dumbledore?"

"Yes, why not? We can explain what Voldemort is doing-"

"For fuck's sake, Harri. I've told you not to say his name!"

Ah yes, that was where we got to.

This time, instead of screaming it back in his face, I draw a deep breath and sit down on the end of his bed, keeping my eyes upwards.

"Today you nearly killed Katie Bell. Who will it be tomorrow? Blaise? Pansy? Me?" I notice him flinch, but he says nothing. "Draco, if you don't come with me to find help, then I'm going to do it for you."

I reach out and take his hand which he quickly snatches back.

"If you tell anyone, I'll never forgive you."

"I don't care if it means you'll still have a soul." I say, standing up.

He sits up now, panic on his face. He can see I'm serious and he can see I'm going to do it right away

"Don't you dare," he snarls, making to move off his bed.

I walk towards his door as he scrambles for his boxer shorts. "Potter, come back here, now!"

"I'm sorry, Draco," I say, wanting him to understand. "But I care about you too much to just let this go."

He throws on his shirt and begins to stride towards me. I notice too late that he has his wand in his hand and - panicking - I reach for the door handle just a moment too late.

"Draco, please-"

"Obliviate!"

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