AN: This chapter contains Mature content. If you would like to skip that, stop reading when they begin kissing. There's no more plot after that until next chapter.
The day the Wizengamot reaches their verdict dawns crisp and sunny. They will be allowed to re-enter the magical world again once their house arrest is over, with the understanding that — if they misbehave — the court will not be so kind a second time. It's decided that due to the "extenuating circumstances" — that is, the fact that the original judge for their trial was personally involved and couldn't be trusted to provide any real evidence against them — the trial will be dismissed as a whole, with only a pile of Prophet articles stacked up in his office show for it.
"Very interesting stuff, Mr Malfoy," Theia had defended.
Draco scoffs at the memory.
Luna, Rolf, and Parvati have decided they're going to work together to breed Boasting Diskies, and to secure the necessary permits to release them in the Gringotts' water storage room. Teddy and Draco agree to continue working on a potion that could be poured into bodies of water to rid them of excess magic, even if the Boasting Diskies turn out to do their job well enough. Parvati lets them know she's happy to lend a hand on occasion, especially once they tell her they plan to experiment with olfactory spells as well.
One of the strangest friendships that develops over their confinement is between Lavender and Teddy.
He hears her and Granger whispering on the second to last night they're all at Grimmauld together.
"It's just ... a big step," Granger says. "Maybe I shouldn't have an opinion on this, but—"
"You think I don't know who saved me that day?" Lavender asks.
"... What?"
"The final battle. It was your voice, I know it was."
Granger is quiet for a long time. "I'd nearly forgotten about that."
"I wish I could say the same."
"You were so brave. We heard you, in the trees, trying to argue for Teddy's safety."
"He's just a kid," Lavender says. "And he ... I thought all werewolves must be evil. For years. But I knew Professor Lupin, and he was a good man. His son is too. So I want to be a part of the outreach programme. I really think I could do some good."
He walks away before he overhears any more. It feels too private to intrude.
When he gets back to the sitting room, Harry is there. He's talking to the portraits while he paints, and for a moment, Draco just watches him from the doorway.
The portraits notice him, and they say something that makes Harry turn around.
"Hi," Harry says softly.
"Hello." Draco knows how he feels, but he isn't sure if Harry's ready for all of it, so he does his best to keep it from pouring out. "Who are you painting?"
Harry smiles, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Er ... no one, actually. I'm not making anything in particular. This one's just for me."
Draco takes a step closer. Harry's got a streak of blue paint by his brow. The canvas, it's clear now, is just covered with vague shapes in no particular pattern.
"Draco?"
"Yeah?" He turns.
"The Spectroculars..."
It threatens to pick at some insecure part of him that Harry has to ask.
"Things malfunction. Especially tricky, magical things." Draco hesitates. "I pulled the stock the first day after you came to the clinic, after I saw what happened to your eye. I've been trying to improve them since then."
Harry is just a breath away now, and he takes Draco's hand in his, interlocks their fingers.
In Harry's other hand, he holds the ruined spectrometry glasses.
"I guess they're pretty useless now," Harry says.
"Don't discount them yet. They might make a nice weapon."
Harry's lips tick up. "Such a Slytherin. No, they're completely useless. And someday I might not ... someday I might be ready to let go of them."
Draco brings his hand up to Harry's face and brushes away the blue paint with the pad of his thumb. "Okay."
Harry's eyes blink closed for a moment, then meet his dazedly. "Erm ... the portraits."
"Hmm?"
"Well, I came in here because I missed them while they were all messed up, but — actually, that part doesn't matter, what matters is..." Harry walks Draco backwards into the hallway and crowds him up against the wall.
It's darker, and quieter, but when Harry grins, he really is as bright as the sun. Draco's eyes trace the lightning scar. A little bit of sun, a little bit of storm.
"Oh," Draco exhales.
"What matters is that they can wait," Harry says. Then he's kissing Draco, and the world rushes away.
Draco can feel Harry smiling as he draws back and trails kisses down Draco's neck, stopping near his collar when his hand reaches Draco's waistband.
"We're not having sex in the middle of the hallway," Draco whispers.
Harry kisses him again.
Maybe it isn't such a bad idea.
"Why not?" Harry responds when he pulls away.
Draco's almost forgotten what they were talking about. "It feels like your house is watching us." The lights undulate in agreement. "And anyone could walk by."
Harry slides a hand up under Draco's shirt, and Draco lets him, his eyes falling closed.
"Merlin, you kill me," Harry murmurs.
Draco smiles. "I could kill you a lot more pleasurably on a bed."
Harry is jerking him up the stairs a moment later.
When they make it to Harry's bedroom, Harry shuts the door behind them and locks it with a snick. A little thrill travels down to the base of Draco's spine.
He's never properly been in Harry's room before. It's bigger than he'd have thought, crowded with boxes and clothes and furniture. Draco wishes he could say everything he wants to without speaking.
Harry won't be getting any judgement from him. Nothing here changes the way Draco feels.
Gently, Harry sits on the edge of the bed. He looks at Draco and says, "Come here."
Draco drops to the floor in front of him and runs his hands up Harry's thighs, parting them. Harry let's put a little gasp that makes Draco's cock twitch.
Draco leans in to mouth at Harry's crotch, and feels distinctly satisfied when Harry swells beneath him. He's overwhelmed by all the feelings, all the thoughts in his head, and the little gasp Harry lets out as Draco unzips him.
He moves to kiss along Harry's neck, feather-light, as he takes him in hand over his pants. Harry thrusts his hips up, whining and letting out breathy exhales. Draco has to pause for a moment to fight the intense arousal licking through him. Then he lifts up fully onto his knees and pulls their hips together, grinding against Harry wickedly.
"I want you," Harry pants.
"Want me to what?" This doesn't seem like the time for talking, but he'll never make things easy for Harry, and Harry might as well learn that now.
"In me." Harry moans as Draco jerks his hips against him. "Fuck. Now, you bastard."
"You could ask nicely."
Harry laughs, and Merlin, Draco is a little bit in love with him. He wishes he could put this moment into a Pensieve and fall into it every day, no matter what other responsibilities were pressing at him.
Draco finally slides off the last layer between him and Harry's cock, pushing his pants over it until it bobs against his stomach.
"Yes," Harry whispers. He twitches in Draco's grip as he thrusts his hips forward again. "Don't stop."
He kisses the head just briefly, then draws away. Harry whimpers.
"Merlin, I hate you."
"We'll see." He presses against Harry's hips so that he slides up the bed and guides him to lay flat on his back, then he finally tugs off Harry's shirt, the last of his clothing, and straddles him.
"Fuck, I hate it when you're right."
Draco laughs, pinning Harry's hands against the bedcover, inhaling his gasp.
He gives himself time to explore Harry's mouth like he hadn't before. He settles his full body weight over him, bringing every bit of them into direct contact, and fuck, does it feel perfect.
He's waited so long for this. He's pretty sure he would have kept waiting forever.
Draco rocks against Harry until they're breathless, then pulls away because he knows they both want more.
"Selfish arse," Harry breathes. "When do I get to touch you?"
Draco shifts up onto his knees again, and he's about to search for some lube when Harry uses the leverage Draco granted him and straightens his arms, pushing until his face is beneath Draco's parted thighs.
"What are you doing?" he whispers.
Harry frees his hands, unzipping Draco's trousers and helping him shuck them off, then his shirt, then his pants, until Draco is totally stripped, and Harry gives him a look that reminds him how very long he's been utterly lost for this man.
He guides Draco back into position over his face, fingers digging into his hips.
"What are you doing?" Draco whispers again. He leans forward until his arms are supporting him just slightly. The injuries don't hurt anymore, but he feels the stretch of his scars.
Harry tongues the sensitive head of his cock, and it's all Draco can do to not lose control. He swears and falls forward.
And then Harry's hands are on his arse, bringing him in closer, and Draco's length is disappearing into Harry's mouth. So hot and tight and fuck.
Draco pulls back when he feels Harry's throat catch, hovering over him and waiting for him to recover.
"All right?" he asks.
"Do it again," Harry says.
Draco pushes his cock past Harry's swollen lips, digging his hands in Harry's curls, thrusting in, and in, and fuck. He could come down Harry's throat. It wouldn't take much.
Draco holds Harry's head in place as his throat seizes around his length, gripping him so tightly. His cock throbs. He pulls out to let Harry breathe, thrusts in again, and grinds his hips as deeply as they'll go.
Fuck, why hasn't he done this before?
"You're so hot, Potter. Wanna fuck your mouth until I come down your throat."
Harry moans around him in approval, and it sends a jitter up Draco's spine.
"You like that, huh? You'd want Granger and Weasley to know what happened next time you tried to speak to them?"
Harry groans then coughs, and Draco pulls back. "Okay?"
"Keep going."
Draco damn near comes at the raspy sound of his voice. He fucks into Harry's mouth harder, balls slapping against his chin, feeling the sharp scrape of Harry's teeth against his skin.
Draco pumps into Harry's mouth until he's nearing the edge, and then he finally draws back, letting his cock brush over Harry's reddened lips and dip in again for a second before finally pulling fully away.
"Why'd you stop?" Harry asks, breathless.
"I don't want to come yet."
Harry meets his eyes, a soppy grin growing on his face. "We won't be done. You don't have to drag it out."
"You make it sound like that's such a bad thing. Where's your lube?"
"Drawer."
Draco rifles around until he finds it as Harry turns over, sliding up the mattress on his belly. Draco watches the way his muscles strain, the soft dip of his spine, and his mouth feels dry.
Finally, because he can, he reaches forward and smooths his hand over Harry's back, gliding over the muscles, stopping at his arse and massaging it.
Draco slicks his fingers up and presses one into him, going slowly at first, adding another when Harry's ready.
It's near hypnotising, watching the slow progress as he teases them deeper, hearing the steady panting exhales Harry lets out as he writhes against the bed.
He presses down until he finds that spot, and Harry cries out, pushing back against him desperately, hands twisting in the bedcovers.
"You have no idea all the things I want to do to you. A whole stockpile. I've had years to think them up, Potter."
"Do them."
"All of them? That might take a while."
"You have places to be?"
Draco drops an amused kiss at the base of his spine. "Nowhere. Just here."
He scissors his fingers, and Harry gasps, grabbing onto the headboard and bucking his hips back.
"You look so good," he whispers.
"Yeah? Tell me."
"You take my fingers so well. I can't wait to get my cock inside you, stretch you open. I want to feel you squeezing around me when you come."
Harry nods against the bed, his shoulders straining. "I want you."
Draco waits, adding another finger, planning to do this until Harry is dripping with lube and rutting desperately against the mattress.
He looks so good, so ready, and Draco hurts with it.
Draco's cock is heavy and full when he takes it in hand, already so sensitive he has to pause halfway through applying lube so he doesn't come at the sight of Harry spread out in front of him.
He wants this to be perfect. He wants to be better than anyone Harry's ever had. He doesn't think he'll last that long.
But they have plenty of time. They can learn how to drive each other mad.
Draco guides the head of his cock to Harry's hole and presses in, just the barest bit. It throbs in his hand when Harry exhales and says, "Merlin, yes."
He continues to press forward, sliding in with smooth, rocking motions, letting himself thrust once when he's halfway and feeling his stomach flip with the sound Harry lets out.
He buries himself to the hilt, gasping at the overwhelming tightness. Harry is clenching around him as he tries to get off against the bed.
Draco stills his hips with a hand, breathing in sharply.
"Fuck," he says. "Merlin, fuck. You look so good."
"Feel so full. God, Draco, I want you to fuck me already."
A bolt of energy travels through his whole body, and he jerks his hips almost involuntarily, grinding into Harry, who lets out a long, drawn-out groan. "More."
"Yeah?"
Harry's back rises and falls with a puff of laughter. His sweat is slick on his skin. "You're such a bastard. Fuck me into the damn mattress."
Draco shudders with pleasure, pulling out halfway and pushing back in again. "Good?"
"Shite, yes. Faster."
He withdraws and thrusts in again, starting up a jerky rhythm. In, out, in, out. Harry does his best to rock back against him. His hips move in little, juddering shakes, and the bed quakes with their movements.
He's pumping into him now without pause, knowing he's nearing the edge but not caring. His forearms bracket either side of Harry's head, his face the barest distance from Harry's shoulders.
"Yeah, yes, fuck, Malfoy, harder."
Draco grins against his skin, driving into him, going as fast as he can. His chest feels slick against Harry's back. His hands are grabbing onto Harry's, locking their fingers together, going all the harder.
"Come in me," Harry says.
He gasps, feeling his cock pulse at the thought, and he has to pause. "Are you sure you—"
"Fuck, yes, just—" Harry jerks back against him, biting into his own fist. "You're so beautiful."
He laughs as the idea comes to him. Harry's prosthesis. "Are you watching me?"
"Fuck yeah. This eye's dead useful for some things. Might as well put it to work."
Draco pushes back from his forearms, holding himself up with his hands again so Harry can see him better, and using the leverage to get just that little bit deeper. He moves his hips slowly, languidly.
He's going to bury his cock in Harry's arse and fill him with his release. He can feel it coming now, about to wash over him, building in all his limbs, so he speeds up.
Draco jerks one final time as he shoots into Harry, burying himself to the hilt, gasping as Harry starts thrusting back against him harder, rocking his hips until he, too, is groaning, grinding against the bed as he comes.
Draco lays, panting, against Harry as hazy, wonderful satiation overtakes him. He feels Harry shake with laughter underneath him, and he hits him lazily on the upper arm. "What?"
"I really, really like you," Harry says, voice gruff.
"And that's funny?"
"It's just ... your face when you come."
"Oi! I'm sure I'm very attractive."
Harry cackles, prodding at Draco until he pulls out with a hiss and gets off him. Draco turns on his side to face Harry, amused despite himself.
"You're so rude. It's definitely not proper etiquette to make fun of someone right after sex."
"No?" Harry puts a hand on his face and kisses him briefly with a dopey smile. "Should we reserve times, then? Because I'm planning on having an awful lot of sex with you, and I don't know how we'll manage to balance that with insults if I don't have a schedule."
Draco leans into the kiss, smiling against Harry's lips. "Planning on an awful lot, are you? That sounds like a challenge."
"Maybe for you. I don't anticipate having any trouble with it."
Draco laughs. "Good to know."
Harry kisses his neck, and Draco can feel him smiling too. "Prat."
Draco sighs. "Any chance you can do Cleaning Charms wandlessly?"
"Magic blocker, remember?"
"You'd let a little thing like that stop you?"
Harry moves across the room, slow and sleepy, to throw him a flannel. When he gets back in bed, his hand comes up to cup Draco's face, and then slides down the length of his arm and stops to rest at his side.
He reaches up to tweak the edge of Harry's prosthesis. "You shouldn't sleep in that, you know. It disturbs REM."
Harry slips it off with only a small moment of hesitation, then he lies back down. Draco strokes along the soft skin of his cheek, down to the cleft in his chin.
"I still haven't gotten used to the way I look," Harry whispers.
"You've got as much time as you need," Draco returns. "I can't imagine it'll take all that long, being as devastatingly handsome as you."
Harry nips the tip of Draco's finger where it lingers over his parted lips. "Thought you were tired of people thinking I'm handsome."
"Just when they're not me."
Harry smiles. "Goodnight, you prat."
Draco doesn't stop staring at him until Harry's eye droops closed and his breathing slackens. Then Draco turns over carefully and shifts back against him, letting himself be held in warm arms as he falls asleep.