Friday Evening
04 September 2009
Draco's POV
"I can't believe you told them that!" Harry yelled, rounding on me, eyes hurling green fire, chest heaving, the lights in my flat flickering dangerously.
"You calling me kitten is... it's... well, it isn't for them," he accused, fists clenching at his sides, the anger in his eyes slowly fading to hurt.
"It's private," he added, brow furrowing, those impossibly green eyes still staring up at me as I took a cautious step towards Harry, reaching to place my hands hesitantly on his hips.
Luckily, he melted into my embrace, hands sliding up my chest to wrap around my neck, face nuzzling into the crook of my neck as I slid my own hands up and around to trace reassuring circles on his back.
"Harry, love, I'm sorry. Really, I am... I didn't mean to," I explained again. "I accidentally left my mobile on the table... which I shouldn't have done. Blaise saw when you called."
I sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the scent of his... well... my shampoo and him as I did so.
"I just thought it'd be better if you didn't show up in my mobile as Harry Potter should you send me a naughty text or something," I admitted, chuckling softly, still holding Harry close to me, hands tracing slower circles and finally settling, one at the small of his back, the other cradling his head, gently massaging the nape of his neck and base of his skull.
Harry gave a half-hearted "hrmph" as he leaned into the massage, angling his head up to look at me.
"Well, that certainly backfired," he quipped, giving me a small smile, and I sighed an inward sigh of relief.
I had no delusions that Harry and I would have this perfect, blissful relationship and knew that there would be rows.
Many of them.
Frightening ones.
Spectacular ones.
To be honest, I was willing to wager half the Malfoy fortune that the other inhabitants in my building were soon going to be complaining about frequent rolling blackouts.
And, while inevitable, I really wasn't looking forward to any of it.
Except, perhaps, the make-up sex.
That would also be spectacular, I had no doubt.
But, for now, with our relationship so new, and, if I was being entirely honest, not even fully confirmed, I was hoping to keep that first row at bay for the time being.
I returned the smile and turned Harry to steer him towards the couch, mentally turning the telly on to an episode of The Office.
I had enjoyed the original version, so I wasn't enjoying the US version so far, but Harry insisted it got better after season one, so I indulged.
I urged him to sit sideways on the couch and settled myself behind him, left leg drawing up to settle around the other side of him, nestling him between my thighs as I began to knead the muscles in his shoulders.
After a few moments, he sighed and leaned back, and I ran my hands down his arms, coming to clasp his hands in his lap, pressing another kiss just above his left ear.
We sat in silence for a bit, watching as Jim on the telly rallied his co-workers to participate in a hilariously kooky version of what he called Office Olympics.
I'd spent enough time in the Muggle world by now to understand what the Olympics were, having been introduced to this paramount of Muggle sport back in 2004 when the bloke I'd been dating had been obsessed with that American swimmer. You know the one.
He was ok, I guess.
A bit goofy looking, but obviously, if you only went from the face down, he was fit, and so, of course, we'd spent most of that summer watching the trials and races with avid enthusiasm.
A bit later, Harry shifted slightly, wriggling himself closer against me, lifting his hips slightly so that my hands brushed against his groin.
It appeared that Harry's mind was no longer on the silly antics of the show if the hardness pressing up into my palm was any indication.
At least I hoped not, I considered, with a slight chuckle, as I bent my head to nuzzle along Harry's neck, tracing my nose along the shell of his ear.
"Mmm, I know," I murmured, still giggling to myself. "Kevin... he's so hot."
Kevin and Phyllis were currently engaged in a race where each had a case of paper strapped to their feet.
Harry burst out laughing, turning to glare at me.
"Shut up," he snorted, jabbing his elbow up and back into my shoulder playfully. "Way to kill the mood, Malfoy. Good one."
"Right," I rolled my eyes. "Because nothing puts me in the mood more than 'The Office'."
The telly clicked off then, and Harry leaned back against me, reaching behind to run a hand through my hair, pulling my head down to nestle in the crook of his neck, and I found myself obliging him with little kisses and nips along the cord running down the side of his neck.
"Mmm," he sighed, arching his back so that his arse pressed firmly against my cock, which was quite suddenly very alert and interested.
"Anything I can do to help you get more in the mood?" he murmured, his other hand clasping over my own to press it more firmly against his hardening length.
I groaned in response, canting my own hips up to grind against Harry's arse as I palmed his cock much more eagerly now.
"Really doesn't take much where you're concerned," I replied, biting his earlobe before sucking at it gently.
I disentangled my hand from his grasp so I could ease both my hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt, revelling in the bunching and flexing of his muscles as I slid them slowly up his chest, removing the shirt as I went.
Sure, it was nice to be able to vanish clothing in the blink of an eye, but sometimes it was even more lovely to undress Harry manually, taking the time to run my hands over as much of his body as I was able to in the process.
His t-shirt out of the way, I returned my hands to trace their path back down to Harry's waistband, leaning my head back in to meet Harry for a lingering kiss, tongues tangling lazily as I undid the fastening of his trousers, shoving them, along with his pants, down when he lifted his hips to help with the process.
He continued to kiss me, a groan rising from his throat as he used first his hands, then his feet, to remove his clothing the rest of the way before turning and kneeling before me, hands already working on the buttons of my shirt.
I leaned forward slightly to wrap my mouth around the head of Harry's cock, bobbing gently, taunting me, as he undid the first few buttons.
He groaned and pulled back, ignoring my noise of protest, as he sank back to settle himself in my lap, still focusing on slowly releasing each button down the front of my shirt, leaning in to tease at my mouth with sweet, gentle kisses, tongue barely peeking out to lick softly at my top or bottom lip in what had to be the sweetest agony anyone on this fucking planet had ever experienced.
"Harry," I protested as he leaned in towards me once more, mouth turning from mine at the last second to tease along the side of my neck as he pushed the shirt from my shoulders, hips rolling to grind his naked body onto my cock, now visibly straining against my trousers.
With a growl, I lifted him from my lap and spun him around, planting one knee on each side of my lap as though intending to let him straddle me, facing front, but stilled his hips, keeping him from fully sitting and making contact with my prick.
I leaned forward and placed a slow, open-mouthed kiss at the sensitive nape of his neck, tongue licking before fastening to suck at the bony knob of his spine.
"Draco," he whimpered, curling backwards into me, seeking more contact as I withdrew my mouth from his warm skin, his body then arching outwards, neck and arse thrusting back into me as I latched onto the side of his neck once more.
I used his body's momentum to lift his arse up and forwards, gently urging him onto all fours before me, another moan rising from his throat as he arched his back again, pressing against my hands that were now stroking down his cheeks, prising them apart.
"Harry," I sighed, hands trailing lovingly down the backs of his thighs, then back up to spread him wider as he pressed back into my palms once more.
I slid my hands forward slightly, hooking my fingers into Harry's hipbones, pulling him back towards me, one hand continuing to slide up his torso, guiding him back to a kneeling position as I slid myself down to lay beneath him.
"Draco," he murmured again, a bit wary now. "What are you doing?"
Harry realised he was now kneeling, straddling my face, and I was, in all honesty, just as turned on by the blush I could imagine rising in his cheeks as I was by the thought of Harry giving in and grinding that beautiful, perfect arse of his down as my mouth worked him open.
"Kissing your arse," I replied, stretching my head up to give a long, slow lick up his crack, groaning myself as Harry unknowingly lowered himself, thighs easing down so they were almost resting on his calves, his delectable arse following my head as I lowered it back to the sofa, turning to lick and give a little nip where the curve of Harry's arse met thigh.
"What'd you think I was doing?" I continued, stretching up for another languid lick.
"Well, obviously, but..." Harry managed, seemingly caught in a struggle between allowing his body to do what it wanted and his silly brain reminding him of just how vulgar and naughty our current positions were.
"Mmm," I murmured noncommittally, hands pulling down and back again at the juncture of his hips, urging him to a full sit.
Kitten almost followed along, then bucked back upwards, then lowered again hesitantly, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
"Harry, really," I sighed, licking into him again, taking care not to call him 'kitten' aloud quite yet.
"I... I... don't think I can."
He was still hovering above me, caught between desire and restraint, and I leaned up to place more kisses along the gentle curve of his arse, hands kneading along his thighs, still urging him to settle upon my face like I wanted.
"Harry," I chuckled again.
"Honestly, I'm the one begging you to sit on my face. How are you the one embarrassed about this situation?"
I leaned up again, licking along Harry's crack once more, pausing to swirl my tongue and swipe at his opening, causing him to keen and lower himself, following my tongue as it retreated.
"Draco," he protested again, hips raising as his brain took control once more.
I didn't respond, verbally anyway.
Just leaned back up to lap and swirl at him once more, tongue returning to swirl and lick into his opening repeatedly.
Slowly.
The way, thanks to this past Sunday, I now knew would drive him insane, gathering as much of his taste on my tongue as I could before swirling into him, relishing in the moans he was releasing above me, gradually growing from quiet, little mewls to lusty sighs that tore from his throat as I continued my relentless attack on his hole, determined to have him ride me in the most obscene way I could imagine.
I smiled to myself as Harry continued to struggle, caught in the midst of the battle between body and mind, body clearly in the lead as his hips continued to lower, then raise just a fraction.
Two steps down, one step up, if you will.
I'll admit, it had been hot beyond belief when Harry had thrown me down on my bed that day, telling me exactly how I was going to pleasure him, and now, I suppose, I just wanted him to take that control once more.
I swirled my tongue again, hands still urging him down, and pushed through his tight opening, allowing myself my own lust-filled moan as my tongue slid deep into the welcoming, velvety heat of him.
"Gods, Draco," he sobbed, finally giving in and settling himself above me, hips rolling as my tongue withdrew from his body so that I was licking greedily and sloppily along his entire crack, from the top, along his sweet pucker, over the sensitive patch just beyond, all the way up to his bollocks, before his hips changed direction and I was allowed the entire process in reverse.
I groaned again, turned on beyond belief, as Harry continued to rock his hips backwards and forwards, pausing every so often to allow my tongue to circle his opening or to slurp sloppily at his bollocks before his body moved again, and I could only moan and groan both my pleasure and dissatisfaction as Harry's movements commanded when and where I could lavish my affection on him.
My hands were roaming, almost frantically, up and around his body, sliding over the silky smooth skin and muscles working above me, the left finally curling itself around his leaking cock, urging him to continue rocking himself over my probing tongue and into my fist, backwards and forwards, changing the pace, sometimes sliding languidly over me, and other times bucking almost frantically, all the while, our groans growing louder and more guttural as instinct took over reason.
How one part of my brain was still managing coherent thought, I'll never know, but I suddenly had the image of what Harry looked like, body moving above me, the rocking of his hips causing his muscled torso to undulate, one hand reaching out in front of him, alternately stroking and clutching at my chest, the other set behind him, hand tangled in my hair, balancing his weight between the two as he continued to glide forward and back.
I groaned again, wishing I could duplicate myself so that I could stand just in front of the telly to watch the scene before me.
My brain, that one part that could still function, told me to still Harry's hips, lifting him just slightly.
He made a choking noise of disappointment as he was forced to disconnect from my greedy mouth, and I couldn't help but lean up and soothe him with one last, furtive lick before taking a deep breath to get myself a tad more under control.
"Harry," I managed, turning my head to press kisses along the flesh of his thighs and cheeks.
"Y-yeah?" came his reply, his hands coming to rest softly on my chest, tracing idle patterns, plucking absently at my nipples, causing me to momentarily forget why the hell I'd stopped everything to talk.
I'd wanted to watch him.
Right.
I forced myself to concentrate, despite Harry's roving hands, and a mirror suddenly appeared before the telly, right where I'd wished my double could've been standing.
"Harry," I said again, raising so I could lick at him again.
"Look to your right."
Another lick.
I knew the exact second when Harry noticed the mirror standing there.
Saw himself, a wrecked mess, sat atop my mouth, body and face no doubt flushed, green eyes even brighter than normal with the intensity of his arousal.
He stilled instantly, like a statue, and I couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped me.
"Draco," he said slowly, body rising slightly, and I clamped one hand around each thigh to coax him back down, right above my mouth, where he bloody belonged.
"Why is there a mirror stood across from us?"
"So you can watch," I replied, giving him a quick lick and lewd suck lest he get any more ideas about trying to leave.
"Watch?" he echoed. "Why... why would I want to watch?"
"Because," I replied, still licking and kissing him, "I can't."
He stilled above me once more.
"I don't see how me watching is going to help that," he replied quietly, all of his adorable, somehow innocent uncertainty returning.
I couldn't help stretching my head up and turning to allow myself a glimpse of the positively porn-worthy scene reflected before me.
Curse Circe and all she held sacred, but I almost came on the spot, my cock jerking almost painfully against the confines of my trousers because the reality, where Harry was concerned, was, as usual, so much more than even my rich imagination could have ever fathomed.
Green eyes locked on mine in the mirror, and I managed to get a glimpse of my own eyes, so lust-blown they were almost black, before my attention snapped back up to Harry.
"You don't?" I questioned, managing, somehow, to raise an eyebrow and smirk, despite half my face still being hidden by the luscious globes of Harry's arse.
He shook his head, eyes blinking shyly away from our reflection in the mirror.
Oh, no. No. No. No.
That would not do.
"Harry," I chided, pressing a kiss to him again.
"Mmm," he mumbled, hips rocking slowly as I began to lick at him again.
"You need to watch," I reminded him between licks.
"I..." he broke off as my tongue breached him once more.
"Yes, you can," I encouraged, stabbing back in and relishing in the groan that vibrated through him as I took a few moments to fuck him leisurely with my tongue.
"Go on, Harry," I murmured, hands running up and down his thighs reassuringly.
"I need you to watch for me," I added, pressing another chaste kiss at the sweet spot between his hole and his bollocks.
"Then," I continued, still licking and swirling at him. "You'll be able to put the memory in your Pensieve."
"Draco," he groaned, body torn once more between desire and reason.
"And then," I went on, tongue and mouth working at him more fiercely.
"One day..."
I paused as Harry began to move above me once more, body clearly having won out again.
"One day?" he groaned out, questioning.
"One day," I repeated, detaching myself from him momentarily. "You'll be able to send it to me."
I sighed and petted his thighs once more, lost in a sudden daydream of me opening a text from Harry and having it be this memory.
Of him watching himself, knowing it would be for him to send to me whenever he wanted.
Merlin, I was going to be a helpless, horny wreck whenever he did send it.
"Send it to you?"
He didn't seem to be following my train of thought.
"When?"
"Whenever you see fit," I replied, licking at him still.
"I... I don't know, Draco," he murmured.
I opened my eyes and looked up to catch him, turning his head away from the mirror once more, and I closed my eyes so that I could concentrate again.
"Nghh! Draco!" he cried out next moment, anguished, and I couldn't help but smirk as I lightly traced around his pucker, giving a dainty swipe round the middle of it as I pictured Harry gazing at the second mirror I'd placed at the end of the sofa, in front of him, making it all but impossible not to watch himself now.
"Don't you dare shut your eyes," I warned, mouth latching onto him as he battled between behaving like a wanton harlot and a shy schoolboy once more.
"I want you to look at yourself," I told him, mouth and tongue still working at him, and I smirked at his whimper of protest.
"Look at yourself the way I would see you," I instructed, reaching my hand around to wrap around his cock once more, and Harry moaned quietly above me, hips beginning to rock as he gave in to his body one more time.
"At the way your body moves," I murmured, tongue still lapping and swirling.
"How your back arches," I continued, still working, drinking in the groans from Harry as he, presumably, followed my instructions.
"And the way your hips roll," I groaned, "and that incredible arse of yours... sliding back and forth..."
"Draco..."
Again, I could pinpoint the exact moment Harry gave in completely, hips twisting and grinding down into me as I pushed up and into him with my tongue, hand working his prick in tandem with his hips, now rocking a fraction more desperately, hands returning, one settling on my chest, the other reaching behind him to tangle in my hair again.
"The way you throw your head back..."
I couldn't stop, it seemed, and neither could he.
"Like you're in absolute ecstasy."
Harry groaned again, hips circling as my tongue swirled and drove inside of him.
"I am." It was hardly more than a whisper but full of such wanton desire I couldn't help but groan and wrap both arms around his thighs to pull him even closer to me.
"Fuck, Draco, do you even know what you do to me..."
Both of Harry's hands left me to do gods know what while I continued to fuck his hole with my tongue, Harry, having now thrown all caution to the wind, circling, and rolling, and grinding his hips onto my eager mouth.
I was barely conscious of my hands roaming Harry's body, first kneading and squeezing his luscious arse as I groaned into him, then smoothing up his torso to tweak at his nipples, groaning again as one of his hands twined with mine to twist and tease at the hardening nub.
I could hardly hear his quiet moans of "mmm," "Draco," "please," and "gods" over my own groans as my hands continued their journey back down his torso, delighting in the feel of his muscled abdomen as they slid their way around his waist and began to smooth their way up his back.
All the while, my mouth kept working at Harry, tongue furling deep into Harry's tight, slick channel, withdrawing occasionally to swirl and suck and lick before returning to drive back into him.
Above me, Harry's groans grew louder, hips circling and grinding more quickly, and I reached my left hand around to curl around his cock once more while my right stretched up to twirl and grasp into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling Harry to arch back at an almost unimaginable angle as my tongue worked itself in and out of the satiny, slick heat of him with renewed fervour.
Harry let out a wall-shattering cry, hips working frantically to pump his cock in and out of my fist, dragging himself over my desperately seeking mouth, slurping and lapping at his hole, his taint, his bollocks, whatever I could reach as he approached his climax.
As soon as I felt his body stiffen above me, I shoved his right leg up and rolled out from beneath him, scrambling to wrap my mouth around his spasming prick, swallowing greedily as Harry's cock continued to spurt until I'd sucked down every last drop.
Harry rose up onto his elbows to stare down at me in amazement as I released him gently, moving to lap up the stray ropes of cum that he'd released before I'd managed to suck his length down my throat, dotting his torso with long, languid strokes of my tongue.
Normally, I was nothing near resembling a cum-slut, but, as usual, wherever Harry was concerned, I found myself decidedly pushing extremes.
"Mmm," Harry murmured as I cast a quick cleansing charm that cleaned both Harry and me from head to toe.
"Do I get to take care of you, now?" he asked, smiling lazily down at me as he stretched languidly, my trousers vanishing, Harry apparently eager to return the favour.
I averted my gaze from him as I slid my way up his body, arranging ourselves so that we were laying, facing each other, legs entwining, arms holding each other close, lips meeting for a sweet, lingering kiss.
"Erm..." I paused, eyes glancing down to meet his, actually a tad embarrassed for once in my life.
"I'm... good," I admitted, glancing back down to where his hand was tracing lazy patterns across my chest.
Harry clasped my hand and brought it up to place a kiss on my palm, and I allowed my gaze to flicker up to his emerald eyes, sparkling with a hint of laughter.
"My boyfriend gets off just from eating my arse?" he asked, a smile lighting up his face as he leaned in to rub his nose against my own.
"How on earth did I get so lucky?"
I snorted and began to roll my eyes, a snarky comment on my lips when I realised what he'd just said.
"You called me your boyfriend," I stated, pulling back to look him in the eye once more.
Now it was Harry's turn to blink away shyly, and I tilted his chin back up to look at me.
"I like the sound of that," I told him honestly, leaning in to kiss him softly on the mouth.
"Me, too," he replied, a tiny smile curving at the corners of his mouth.
"Mmm... now I really am your Harry," he murmured as he snuggled closer alongside me, head fitting perfectly into the crook of my neck, and I couldn't help but smile as I inhaled the scent of Harry's hair as I wrapped my arms more tightly around him.
My Harry, indeed.
I yawned and accioed some blankets, casting my cooling charm around myself as I pulled the thick comforter around us, wrapping my arms around my Harry once more and welcoming sleep after a long day.
***
I awoke next morning, stretching languidly, my thoughts returning to the last thing Harry had said to me before we drifted off to sleep.
My Harry, I thought, smiling happily as I felt him stirring beside me.
I yawned again and turned to look down at him, arms reaching to clasp him closer to me for a proper morning cuddle.
However, all those sweet, sappy thoughts flew from my brain as I took in the scene before me.
Harry was not, as I'd presumed, shifting around in his sleep.
His eyes were closed, yes, but he was biting his lip in an effort to quiet the moans that threatened to escape his mouth due to the ministrations that his left hand was delivering.
I could see that it was reaching around behind him, working slowly back and forth, I could only imagine, in and out of his tight, pink pucker.
"Something I might help you out with, Potter?" I asked hopefully.
He groaned, and green eyes snapped open to meet my own, somewhat sheepishly.
"I wanted to surprise you," his sleep-laden morning voice murmured softly, that hand still working steadily.
"Mission accomplished," I assured him, right hand reaching up to card through his silky raven-coloured mop.
"I'm quite surprised," I added, leaning down to kiss him softly.
"No," he sighed, shaking his head slowly, pulling away to look me in the eye, an evil smirk tugging at his lips.
"I wanted to surprise you by being on you," he clarified, glaring at me as though my having woken up and ruining his surprise were my fault.
"Wanted you to wake up inside me," he added, just in case I hadn't been clear on his previous meaning.
"Well, don't let my being awake stop you," I encouraged, shifting us so that Harry was now lying atop me, pulling him down for a kiss.
"I can even pretend to be asleep," I added, closing my eyes and feigning sleep the best I could.
"See?" I added, even though I couldn't shake the grin or little giggle that escaped my lips.
Harry chuckled as he moved so that he was straddling me properly, leaning back in for another kiss.
Said kiss, of course, escalated in no time, and next thing I knew, Harry was grasping my cock and guiding it into his slackened hole.
I groaned and propped myself up on my elbows as I felt the tip of my cock sliding into the smooth, velvety heat of him, head dropping back, allowing Harry access to nibble, lick, and suck at my neck.
"Harry," I sighed, hips rocking up in an effort to slide more of my length into his ridiculously tight heat.
"How the fuck are you so tight?" I demanded, not for the first time, and he chuckled, green eyes slanting down at me as he leaned down to kiss me again, his arse continuing its slide down to engulf more of my prick.
He gave a moan of his own as he bottomed out, arse coming to rest on my groin, and his eyes fluttered open to peer down at me sheepishly.
"It's always that last couple of centimetres," he sighed. "They're so fucking good."
I just nodded, never mind that, in my opinion, all of Harry felt so fucking good, and rocked my hips up into him, urging him to get on with this surprise morning shag he'd envisioned.
Harry didn't disappoint, either, as he slowly rose up my length, squeezing deliciously as did so, stopping when just the tip was still inside of him, before sighing and sliding back down, centimetre by agonising centimetre.
"Harry," I groaned, hands flying to his hips in an effort to encourage him to quicken his pace, but no such luck for me.
Harry kept rising and falling lazily, up and down my entire length, as though he had all Merlin-fucking day to ride my cock.
"Harry," I tried again, hands tangling in his hair once more to pull his face down to mine, capturing his mouth with my own.
Kissing always seemed to bring my sweet Harry right up to that edge so nicely.
Harry, as predicted, latched on, groaning into my mouth as he began to work himself up and down my length much more quickly now.
"Gods, Draco," he gasped, tearing his mouth from mine as he rose up and began to ride my cock in earnest.
He was sliding up and down my entire length now, my own hips rising to meet his as our bodies worked in tandem to bring us both to the point where we were nothing but moaning, sobbing messes, hands and lips seeking blindly to kiss and clasp and hold on to whatever parts of each other we could reach.
We continued, hips snapping together in a frantic rhythm, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing throughout the room, and I knew release wasn't far off for either of us.
I groaned again, head falling back once more, as Harry gave a particularly wicked twist of his hips that had me seeing stars, and my hands found their favourite spots, one resting on the small of his back, urging his hips to continue grinding down into my own, the other cradling his head and guiding his mouth back to mine, anticipating another frantic kiss.
"Oh! Fuck!" Harry cried suddenly, body halting then curling suddenly into mine.
At that same moment, I heard a gasp that I would have recognised at any point, at any time, in any place in this entire bloody world, and my cock literally withered and slipped from Harry's body almost immediately.
"Mum?" I asked, not even having to look as I sat up, setting Harry beside me on the couch, giving him a look that dared him to even try an Apparate away right now.
Thankfully, Mum had her back towards us, probably having turned as soon as she'd Apparated into my flat and glimpsed the scene before her.
I sighed and wrapped the blanket more tightly around Harry and I, just in case, I don't know, Mum decided to turn around or something.
"My apologies, Draco," she was saying, her voice giving absolutely no indication that she'd just walked in on her only son being ridden by Harry Bloody Potter as though Voldemort's defeat had depended on it.
"I hadn't realised we had a change of plans this morning."
Fuck.
"Fuck," I muttered aloud. "It's the first Saturday, isn't it?"
Mum and I always had breakfast the first Saturday of each month.
She'd been spending most of her time in France but came to England each month for whatever business she had to attend to, including time for us to catch up face-to-face.
And I, caught up in the whirlwind of a hectic work schedule and the bliss of all things Harry, had completely forgotten that today was our day.
"Don't worry, darling," she assured me, head tilting downwards as she pulled smartly on her gloves to ensure they were on properly.
"We can reschedule for another time."
I'm sure I'm the only person in the entire world who could've caught the disappointment in her voice and actions.
"No," I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
I knew how much Mum looked forward to our breakfasts together.
And, to be entirely honest, so did I.
I loved my mum.
"Just... give me a minute," I added, standing and pulling on my trousers.
Both Harry and my mum gave a snigger at that.
"Darling, it would appear that both Harry and I know it will take you much longer than that to get ready."
I glared at both of them, despite the fact that it was true and that only one of them could actually see my glare.
"Harry, dear," Mum was saying. "It's lovely to see you again. I hope you're well?"
Harry's face reddened immediately as he tightened the blanket around him.
"Erm... yes... same to you, Mrs Mal... erm... Miss Bla... Nar..." Harry glanced up at me helplessly.
"Call me Narcissa, please," Mum instructed, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
"I insist."
Another brief pause as Harry stumbled to his feet, all but tripping on the blanket, then into his own trousers.
"I'm going to go make myself a cup of tea," Mum informed us, turning towards the kitchen, still keeping her back turned.
"Harry, if you're not back out here to meet me in ten minutes, I will come and find you two," she added, pausing in the doorway of my kitchen, one hand reaching up to lay gently against the doorframe, almost as though she might turn around to fix us with that dreaded "Mum" stare.
"You will be joining us, I assume?"
It wasn't a question, which Harry caught on to quickly enough.
"Erm... yes, Mrs... I mean, Narcissa, of course," he mumbled as I whisked him down the hallway to my bedroom, not wanting to waste any time.
"Draco!" he hissed as soon as we entered my closet. "Your mum!"
He groaned and buried his face into the crook of my neck.
"I'm never going to be able to look her in the eye," he informed me, and I tilted his head up to brush his lips with my own.
I'd only intended to distract Harry for a moment, but the kiss inevitably deepened, and soon we were pressed up against each other, hands roaming, tongues tangling as I angled Harry towards the island of drawers in the centre of my closet, urging him to sit on it, wrapping his legs around me, grinding my hardening cock down against his own.
"Shit, Draco," he yelped suddenly, pushing me away and glaring at me accusingly. "Ten minutes!"
"Sorry," I replied, releasing him immediately, shucking my trousers and pulling on a clean pair of pants before striding over to select a pair of trousers.
"Erm..."
I turned to see Harry eyeing me warily.
"I... do you... might I borrow a pair of pants," he asked finally, eyes darting away from mine.
"I'm sorry," he added almost immediately, eyes flitting back up to meet my own. "Is that weird?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I pulled on a fresh pair of trousers and walked back over to Harry.
"Yes, Potter, very weird," I drawled, pulling a drawer open and smirking down at him.
"I'm fine with literally kissing your arse and swallowing your cum, but borrowing a pair of pants? That's where I draw the fucking line."
I threw a pair of shorts in his face, and he rolled his eyes back at me as he removed his trousers and pulled the shorts on.
"Where are we going, anyway?" he asked, shoving his arms through the armholes in his t-shirt and then pulling his trousers back on.
"I doubt I'll be properly dressed in this, regardless," he added, pulling at the hem of his shirt and staring down at it critically.
I frowned and looked him over, realising he was probably right.
"Claridges, probably," I mused. "They don't have a dress code, I don't think."
Harry raised an eyebrow at me doubtfully.
"Here, put this on," I instructed, throwing a black jumper at him.
Harry, I'd noticed, ran a little cold, so he'd likely need the extra layer this time of year, anyway.
"Are you sure?" he asked, putting on the jumper as instructed but still glancing at me uncertainly.
"Yes, my pernickety little Kitten," I assured him, closing the distance between us and leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose.
Merlin, what the fuck was happening to me?
Since when did I kiss blokes on the tip of the nose?
"You look absolutely ravishing," I continued, fixing the length of the jumper and its arms with my wand.
Harry rolled his eyes, clearly not believing me, which I chose to ignore.
"And if my mum weren't waiting for you in the kitchen, I'd definitely take the time to prove it to you," I added, letting my gaze wander down his body, taking in the way his trousers hugged his thighs perfectly.
"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully, tilting my head back up to meet his gaze and giving me a pointed look.
"Well, I should probably go see your mum," he added. "I'm sure it's been at least ten minutes."
I grabbed his hand as he brushed past me, pulling him towards me for one last brief kiss.
"Thank you," I told him, knowing Harry needed no further explanation.
"Course," he replied, eyes lingering on me for a moment before he turned and headed out the door.
I dressed in record time, deciding to leave my hair naturally tousled, the way Harry seemed to like.
And, as Hermione had pointed out, with Harry becoming a more permanent fixture in my life, also seemed destined to become my new signature style.
Might as well see what Mum thought of it, I supposed.
I hurried down the hallway towards the kitchen, knowing being alone with Mum after that unexpected introduction was probably wreaking havoc on poor Harry's nerves right now.
I entered the kitchen to find that I shouldn't have worried.
Harry was leaning casually against one of the counters, nibbling on a stroopwafel (without moaning like the giant caramel-slut that he was, it should be noted) whilst Mum stood near the counter adjacent, holding her cup of tea, a genuine laugh bubbling up out of her throat as Harry wrapped up some anecdote.
"Draco," Mum greeted me, eyes sparkling with laughter, holding out an arm to pull me in for a hug, head tilting up to kiss my cheek.
"Harry was just telling me the latest about little Teddy," she informed me.
Of course.
How had I forgotten that Harry and I were both practically uncles to Teddy?
I'd known Harry was his godfather, and, in recent years, Mum and Aunt Andromeda had reconciled, which, of course, meant that the two of us had become fixtures in young Teddy's life.
Aunt Andromeda, however, had taken care to keep these two branches of Teddy's life separate, for his sake, most likely.
"He's just finished his first week at Hogwarts," Mum sighed and looked at me in that fond, nostalgic-Mum-sort-of-way, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes and glance over at Harry.
"She's remembering when we were that age," I informed him.
"You were so young," Mum protested, still holding me close with one arm, raising her teacup to take a sip with the other. "And so sweet and positively adorable."
Harry sniggered, and I shifted away from Mum with another exaggerated eye roll.
"Mum, I was an insufferable, annoying prat," I reminded her, earning another snigger from Harry.
"What was that, Potter?" I snarled, slipping into a perfect mirror of my younger, dreadful self.
My actions belied my words and tone as I stepped towards Harry, pulling him towards me for a bear hug.
"Have something you wanted to say?" I continued, still in character, dropping a kiss atop his head.
"Argh, get off," Harry griped, pretending to shove me away. "You were bloody awful then."
"Course I was," I conceded, bending down to sneak a bite of Harry's stroopwafel.
"That's when I still wanted to grow up and be like my father," I added, ignoring Harry's glare as he jerked the remainder of his treat well out of my reach.
"Thankfully, for the both of you, Draco cast that laughable ambition aside soon enough," Mum interjected from across the room.
"Well," she said brightly, smiling at us as she set her cup on the counter. "Shall we?"
"Claridges?" I asked.
"Mmm," she nodded. "It is your favourite."
"Are you sure I'm dressed alright?" Harry asked again, frowning as he took in Mum's sky-blue pencil skirt and matching jacket and my light grey suit.
"Yes, Harry, dear," Mum assured him, eyes giving him a quick once-over.
"You look wonderful. And I would certainly tell you if I thought otherwise," she assured him.
Harry gifted her with an absolutely radiant smile and looked somewhat mollified by her response.
"Oh, I see how it is, Potter," I grumbled good-naturedly. "Mum tells you that you look wonderful, and she gets this radiant beam. I tell you that you look wonderful, and all I get is a cheeky eye-roll."
Harry merely stuck his tongue out at me as Mum placed a hand on both of our backs, guiding us towards the door and on our way to breakfast.
Claridges was only a short walk, and the weather was perfect for a short, early Autumn stroll.
Harry and Mum talked most of the way, the tale of little Teddy Lupin's first week at Hogwarts not having been exhausted yet.
Unsurprisingly, being a Metamorphmagus and showing up for classes with a different hair colour or altered nose each day made one quite popular during one's first week.
Once we'd arrived at Claridge's, we were shown to our table in the Foyer, one of those at the centre of the room with its dark blue circular booth, and I couldn't help but watch as Harry gazed around him, taking in the tall, arched windows and the ornate glass sculpture that hung from the ceiling in lieu of an actual chandelier.
Mum ordered a magnum of Billecart-Salmon Rosé, then turned her attention back to Harry and me.
"So, Harry, dear," she smiled at him, resting her chin on her clasped hands and leaning towards him. "What have you been up to since we last met? And I don't mean all that drivel they insist on printing in the Prophet, mind."
The Prophet enjoyed running a story at least every other week about their suspicions of Harry dating some witch or other, hoping to be the first to divulge The Boy Wonder's newest relationship to his adoring public.
If only they knew.
"Erm... honestly, not much," Harry admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck and grinning at her sheepishly. "I'm afraid the Prophet version of Harry leads a much more exciting life than I do."
"Does he?" Mum countered, raising an eyebrow. "The scene I walked in on this morning positively begs otherwise."
Harry flushed immediately, mouth working as though trying to respond, but no sound came out, and Kitten, adorably, looked over at me, eyes pleading, as though I might help.
"And now you know where I get it from," I quipped, smirking at him from across the table.
"I'm sorry, dear," Mum apologised, looking genuinely contrite as she reached out to pat Harry's hand affectionately. "I couldn't resist."
"And, if it's any consolation, that was nothing compared to some of the things I've seen from this one over the years," she added, fixing me with that sort of pointed stare that only Mum's seem to be able to do.
"That was mostly for Father's benefit," I reminded her huffily. "You were never supposed to see the half of it."
I... might have gone out of my way to engage in absolutely obscene frolics in the few years after the trial when Father was confined to house arrest at the manor, wandless and all but helpless to stop my antics.
Mum didn't deign my little outburst with a response.
Just turned her head back to Harry with a pointed raise of her brow.
"I... I don't even want to know," Harry admitted truthfully, with a rueful shake of his head.
"I could show you sometime," I offered helpfully, earning a glare from both Harry and Mum.
"Good morning."
I was saved from any further admonition by the arrival of our server bearing the bottle of champagne.
"Shall I take your order for breakfast?" he asked, pouring us each a glass and leaving the bottle in the bucket of ice sat next to our table.
"I'm so sorry," Mum apologised, looking up at him with a sincere wince of dismay.
"I'm afraid we've been so engrossed in catching up we haven't even looked at our menus."
"Not to worry, madam," he assured us with a slight nod of his head. "Take your time, and I'll take your order once you've decided."
I didn't have any need to look at my menu, seeing as I always got the same thing at Claridges.
The Chinese breakfast.
I don't know why, but there was something so comforting yet decadent about the steaming bowl of congee porridge with its preserved duck egg and accompanying pickles and dumplings.
(Sadly, Claridges no longer offers this breakfast, and I was unable to find a photo of it, but here's a picture of a similar Chinese breakfast!)
Mum would either order the European with its selection of cured meats and cheeses served with a proper baguette or the Omelette Arnold Bennet with Scottish haddock and Mornay sauce if she was feeling decadent.
The time to peruse the menu was only asked for Harry's benefit, which, if you remember, would only serve to push dear Kitten into panic mode.
I glanced over at Harry, taking a sip of champagne as I watched his eyes begin scanning the extensive menu at an almost comically fast rate, as though there was a correlation between how quickly his ideal breakfast would pop out at him and how quickly he read the menu.
(Scrumptious and healthy avocado toast... option one for Harry?)
(Classic English, perhaps?")
"Harry," I said, setting my glass down and leaning across the table to pluck the menu from his hands.
"Erm... yeah?"
"What do you want to eat?" I asked.
"Erm..."
I paused and rethought my question for a second.
"Don't think about the menu or anything that's on it," I amended. "Just think about what you'd eat if you could have whatever it is that you want."
Mum was glancing between Harry and me curiously.
"He's like Blaise," I informed her, not taking my eyes off of Harry as he thought.
"Ah," she replied, nodding and lifting her own champagne glass to her lips.
"Sorry," Harry apologised, giving Mum a sheepish grin.
"Nothing to apologise for, dear," she assured him. "That's the fun in dining out. You can have whatever it is you want... within reason, of course."
"I suppose what I'd really want is avocado. And salmon."
"Just avocado and salmon?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"No. With eggs. And toast or something," he paused to take a sip of his champagne. "And Hollandaise."
"Well, then you'll want the Eggs Royale with a side of avocado," Mum decided, eyes glancing down at her own menu.
"That's not on the menu, though," Harry frowned. "Is it?"
"Of course it is, dear," Mum countered, showing him her menu, seeing as he was still grasped firmly in my hands.
"Potter," I interrupted, grinning at just how bloody adorable Harry was sometimes. "Think of it like this."
Green eyes met mine expectantly across the table.
"If you had a few mates over for dinner, Ron and Hermione, let's say..."
Harry nodded to show that he was following.
"And... whatever it was that you'd made, no matter, but Hermione said, 'Wow, do you know what would go great with this? Some avocado!"
Harry giggled at my exaggerated impression of Hermione pondering her meal.
"And, you just so happened to have some avocado in your kitchen... wouldn't you slice her up some avocado?"
"Not if it were my last avocado," he answered truthfully, and Mum and I both had to laugh at his honestly.
"Let's assume you have many," I amended, and Harry grinned.
"Of course."
"Ok, then," I concluded. "You want the Eggs Royale with a side of avocado. Because I'm quite sure Claridges has many avocados on hand."
Mum, who had been smiling at us fondly, averted her gaze to seek out our server, who arrived to take our orders momentarily.
Conversation and champagne continued as we waited, and I leaned back, allowing myself to take in our surroundings.
Merlin help me, but of course, there was an adorable baby seated at the table near us staring at me, a silly, little baby grin on its face, and I couldn't help myself.
I've always loved babies, and it would seem they loved me, too.
I made eye contact with the little lump of adorable and returned its silly, little baby grin, eliciting an excited coo from my new friend.
Oh, was I done for now.
I raised my eyebrows and opened my mouth in an expression of feigned baby surprise, to which my companion responded in kind, mimicking my facial expressions before collapsing into a fit of giggles.
Harry and Mum had obviously caught on to my antics at this point and had begun to look around the restaurant, as one does when one's adult companions begin making baby faces at some random point in the room.
Baby's mum had also noticed, and so all of our eyes met as baby let out another squeal of delight.
By this time, I'd brought my hands up to cover my eyes and had just revealed myself, thus commencing an absolutely riveting game of peek-a-boo, which lasted for several rounds, baby alternately staring intently at the hands hiding my face, wondering where I'd disappeared to, then giggling and babbling in delight when I revealed that I was still there.
Baby's mum was cooing along in delight whilst Harry and Mum watched our interaction with delight.
"Draco adores babies," Mum informed Harry, as though that weren't bloody obvious.
"Well spotted, Mum," I retorted, tearing my eyes from my charming new buddy and giving my attention to my actual dining companions once more.
Harry was grinning at me, those impossibly green eyes sparkling with laughter and something else that told me he'd quite enjoyed learning that I turn into an absolute Hufflepuff around babies.
"He was an adorable baby," Mum was leaning towards Harry conspiratorally.
"Was he, now?" Harry replied, finishing off his glass of champagne and reaching for the bottle beside him.
"I'm not sure, Narcissa," he continued, winking at me, and I felt my panic rising as Harry refilled all of our glasses before returning the bottle to its bucket.
"I might need visual proof."
No.
This was not happening.
Harry had not just asked my Mum to see baby photos.
Because, of course, you well know that she had them.
Scores of them.
And now, thanks to the Wizarding world having adopted the wonderful muggle mobile contraptions, she had them all right here to show off to anyone, at any time, anywhere.
"Oh!" Mum caught on immediately, of course. "Would you like to see some of Draco's baby photos?"
"No, Mum," I snapped immediately, glaring one of my finest, real, no-fucking-around glares at Harry.
"He would not."
Harry either didn't catch on to the severity of my glare or didn't care, although, seeing as he'd faced Voldemort head-on at seventeen, my bet was on the latter.
"I have some on my mobile, of course," Mum continued as though I hadn't spoken, and Harry scooted his chair closer to her and leaned in to get a better look.
"I swear to Merlin, Potter," I growled. "You look at those photos, and you'll be sleeping alone for a month."
I just about murdered Harry when he merely glanced over at me, one brow raised.
"Oh, come, now Draco," he countered, a positively evil smirk spreading across his face. "We both know that's not true."
Bastard.
Nearly sorted into Slytherin, indeed.
I humphed and crossed my arms, pouting, making sure that Potter knew just how much trouble he was about to get himself into and continued to glower across the table at both him and Mum.
Mum, for some reason, was so pleased with this interaction that she couldn't suppress her smile as she turned to Harry, mobile in hand.
I knew exactly which photo she was going to show him, too.
It was her favourite.
I must have been about two at the time, the photo showing, at first, what seemed to be the library at the manor, empty save for the floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and comfortable furniture set up for reading the afternoon away.
Then, from behind an overstuffed leather couch, a tuft of silvery-blond hair appeared, slowly rising until a teeny forehead was visible, and finally, a pair of peeping blue-grey eyes that popped open in surprise as my entire face jolted up above the arm of the couch, squealing with glee, before ducking back down.
A few seconds later, the same tuft of blond hair, then my giggling face, would appear around the side of the couch, peering to see if the person taking the photo (presumably Mum) was still there.
This sickening display of cute along with the complete lack of physical awareness all toddlers demonstrate (if I can't see you, you can't see me, right?) continued on endless repeat, and I could hear my squeal of delight echoing from Mum's mobile every fifteen seconds or so.
"Oh. My. Sweet. Merlin." Potter was gasping, hands reaching to take the mobile from Mum so he could examine the scene playing before him.
Green eyes glittered over at me as Potter grinned across the table at me.
"Adorable isn't even the right word," he informed both Mum and I, glancing from me to her. "I don't know what is, but this is beyond adorable."
The server, merciful Merlin, arrived then with our plates then, and I couldn't wait to delve into my savoury bowl of congee, and not only because I was starving.
Harry was staring down at his plate, a small satisfied smile appearing on his face as he took in the decadent spread of perfectly poached egg atop luscious slices of salmon, all topped with shavings of truffle and Hollandaise with a generous side of sliced avocado on the side.
Mum was also watching as he cut into his eggs and lifted the first bite to his mouth, a little sigh of bliss slipping out between his lips as his eyes slid shut.
"This is exactly what I wanted," he informed us both, the satisfied smile still in place as he sliced himself a bite of avocado, swirling it in the egg yolk before lifting the forkful to his mouth.
Mum was taking a neat bite from a slice of baguette that she'd layered with cheese and charcuterie, and I tore my eyes away from the mouth-watering sight of Harry enjoying his breakfast to take a bite from one of the gyoza that accompanied my meal.
"If you'd like, Harry," Mum was saying, taking another sip of champagne. "I could send you that photo."
I nearly dropped the second half of my gyoza as I turned to stare at Mum in absolute horror.
"You wouldn't," I gasped.
"Of course, I would," she replied, taking another bite of cheese and charcuterie-laden baguette.
"Absolutely," Harry said whole-heartedly.
"Here's my number," he added, taking up her mobile and punching in his number.
What an absolute prat.
"And I have other photos," Mum assured him, the two of them seeming to have come to a tacit agreement to ignore my squawks of protest.
"Yes, please."
Mum and Harry's heads bent together, food seemingly forgotten, as she scrolled through the photos stored on her mobile, looking for another favourite to show Harry.
"You just wait until I meet your idiot Muggle family and get my hands on your baby photos, Potter," I snarled, turning my attention to my congee.
"Draco!" Mum looked horrified, thinking I'd just called Harry's family idiots on account of them being Muggles as opposed to them just being actual idiots.
At the same time, Harry laughed outright.
"You think there are baby photos of me?"
He glanced down at Mum's mobile, and his jaw dropped as he clapped a hand to his mouth, eyes slanting over to me with a look of positive adoration.
"No," I groaned. "Mum, what are you showing him now?"
"Baby Draco on a broom?" Potter all but squealed, head tilting back to laugh, before returning his attention to the photo in question.
Of course, I knew exactly what photo he was looking at.
Again, I couldn't have been more than two or three, sitting astride my very first broomstick.
You know, the toddler ones they sell in Diagon Alley that barely hover fifteen centimetres above the ground so you can't hurt yourself when you inevitably tumble off to one side.
In the photo, I'm "zooming" around outside in the rose garden, being chased by my father, apparently before he'd morphed into an uptight, pompous fuckwad.
I could hear him crying out:
"Draco! I can't possibly keep up! You're just too fast!" before another squeal as I reached the arbitrary finish line.
"Excellent job, Draco!" Father exclaimed. "You won again!"
"Mummy! Mummy!" toddler me cried out gleefully at the end of the clip. "I win!"
Harry looked as though it were his birthday and Christmas combined as he looked at Mum with a giant grin on his face.
"This is the most wonderful thing I've ever seen in my life," he declared.
"I thought you'd like that one, seeing as you're a professional Quidditch player," Mum agreed.
"Honestly, Potter," I glared. "I'm going to pay your Muggle family a visit right after breakfast."
He rolled his eyes and fixed me with a patronising glance.
"I've already told you, Malfoy," he drawled. "There aren't any baby photos of me."
"I know they won't move, so it won't be nearly half as embarrassing," I conceded, glaring at Mum anew as she sent Harry a few more photos, the dreadful broomstick one included, I was sure.
"No, Draco," Harry sighed, speaking to me as though I were still the toddler in the photos. "There aren't any child-aged photos of me at all. Full stop."
"What do you mean, no photos?" Mum asked. "Did they get destroyed somehow?"
"Erm... no," Harry paused to take another bite of his food. "There... just aren't any."
"How can there be no photos of you, Harry?" I asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Harry had already let on that his Muggle family had been less than keen on him being a wizard, but surely he was being dramatic about no photos existing.
"They just didn't take any," he insisted, suddenly much more interested in his breakfast than discussing baby photos. "They're an odd lot."
Harry, it seemed, wasn't going to budge any on the topic, and Mum, being the gracious hostess she always was, sensed this and changed the subject.
I, however, decided to file this away for future reference.