Saturday Afternoon
07 November 2009
Blaise's POV
"Papa!" Hugo called out, and I forced my eyes open from where I was currently sprawled in my chaise on the enclosed patio, a cosy heating charm in place.
"I can fly really good, now!" he shouted, all bundled up in his winter robes, zooming around on his new "upgraded" children's broom that Mamie and Papi Varon had gifted him over Samhain.
"I'm going to be better than Harry Potter soon!"
I chuckled and wondered what Hugo would do if I invited the real Harry, along with his Tonton Draco, over for dinner one night.
He had no idea his papa and Tonton Draco were friends with the famous Quidditch player, which, in little Hugo's mind, was way more exciting than his being the one who'd defeated Voldemort.
"Great job, cucciolo," I encouraged, sitting up and watching, ignoring the daggers the sunlight was stabbing into my eyelids by doing so.
"Should I ring him now for a match?"
"No," Hugo replied, circling around the apple tree. "Not yet. He'd probably still win."
I suppressed a laugh and shared a knowing look with Anaïs as my phone pinged.
It was Pansy.
I drank like I was twenty again, so my memory is hazy, but remind me... did fucking BEN show up at our table last night?
I smirked and glanced over at Anaïs.
"Pansy's finally awake," I informed her, only slightly jealous of my childless mates who still had the luxury of sleeping in on weekends.
Of course, I'd already filled my wife in on everything that had happened last night, and we'd wondered when Pansy would finally wake up and the frantic texting to dissect what the fuck had happened last night would commence.
"Oh la," she sighed, with a teasing grin in my direction. "Bonne chance."
I was wondering when you'd finally wake up so we could discuss, I typed back.
Because, honestly, Ben showing up last night had been fucking weird.
And bless Potter and his sweet little friends, thinking, perhaps, Draco had cast a spell such as Obliviate without fucking meaning it.
Draco didn't fuck around like that.
Which was why Pansy and I were worried.
Fucking Ben
Yes, the nerve, I texted back, glancing up to check on Hugo again.
What are we doing about it? Have you heard from Draco yet?
Pans, it's barely noon and he got wasted last night, I typed, rolling my eyes. I'm not waking him up.
Because Draco sporting a hangover and roused before he was good and ready to be awake was, honestly, not worth the effort.
Pansy didn't reply for a minute, and I turned my attention back to Hugo, who now had Manon seated on the broom with him, and I lost myself in how damned cute my kids could be when they weren't antagonising each other.
My mobile pinged again, and I glanced down to see a screenshot from Pansy.
"Drakey, wake up and meet Blaise and I for lunch to soak up all that alcohol we stupidly drank last night," she had typed.
"Fuck. You."
"Please?"
"Phone. Off. Bye bitch."
What do you think is going on? Why do you think Ben recognised him?
I don't know. I think that's what we're texting about....
We were both silent for a minute, thinking the same thing.
Was there the slightest chance Draco had cast the spell without wanting to?
Of course he meant it when he cast it, Pansy reasoned.
Of course
Have you ever heard of an Obliviate wearing off?
Nope, I replied.
How Pansy texted so quickly, I'll never know.
Do you think it'll keep wearing off? I asked, cursing my thumbs, which never seemed large except for when I was trying to text as quickly as my thoughts came. If he runs into Draco again is he going to remember more?
Potter will kill him
There was another pause, and I know we were still thinking the same thing.
What if he didn't mean it? Pansy finally asked.
Fuck.
Then it was years ago and he's with Potter now, I typed back, knowing Pansy would infer everything that I hadn't said.
He was going to marry Ben.
I let out the breath I'd been holding and stared out at Hugo and Manon, still happily flying around the garden despite their cheeks turning red from the cold.
I waited about three seconds before turning to Anaïs, who looked as though she already knew what I was going to say.
"I have to go," I offered lamely just before I disappeared.
Next second, I found myself smoothly exiting the stairwell of the fire escape into the hallway of Draco's building.
Pansy was already there.
***
Saturday Afternoon
07 November 2009
Harry's POV
"Hey Harry," Ginny greeted — she was sitting on the sofa in the small house she and Micah rented in Dufftown, an array of makeup bottles, brushes, and a mirror set before her. "What's up?"
"Erm..." I reached up and scratched the back of my neck. "I dunno."
I still didn't know what to make of last night.
We'd all stayed at the pub much longer than we usually did, drinking far more than we usually did, Draco and I stumbling out of the taxi and into the building, hands and mouths seeking and fumbling the entire lift ride up, followed by that frantic scrabble at the door to find the key and insert it into the lock and open it because neither of us was going to tear our face away from the other to look to do it properly, because, yes, we'd been that sort of drunk.
And maybe it had been mostly my subconscious whispering to my drunken self that I had to keep touching him to make sure he was still there — that he was still mine and I was still his.
Even though, when my eyes had finally blinked open this afternoon, cursing the stupid sunlight shining all too brightly into the room for my bleary, alcohol-sodden brain, I'd had trouble recollecting anything in too much detail, the flashes of lips gliding against skin, of teeth scraping and biting and marking, the frantic slide of skin against skin coupled with the tender spots at my wrists, along my neck, and up my arse that currently toed the line between pleasure and pain – the tangle of sheets, still stuck to me in spots because we had, apparently, passed out before either of us had thought to wave a hand to perform a simple cleaning spell, all hinted at a good, albeit, rough night had.
I'd wrinkled my nose and waved my hand to cast a quick spell then, although — my face had screwed up again — a lot of good that did after however many hours of sleep we'd managed to get in.
I'd sat up and stretched, glancing down at Draco and wincing at the reddish-purple marks dotting his collarbone, looking almost like a garish necklace, vivid red scratch marks running down his back, and even a faint bruise around his hipbone where my legs had, apparently, squeezed a little too tightly last night.
Not that Draco couldn't handle it — he was tough as nails — but his pale skin made even the teensiest bruise stand out.
I couldn't help the little snigger that had escaped as I'd imagined the taunting and catcalls I'd get in the locker rooms if I showed up looking the way Draco did now and thought it was a good thing he wasn't the professional Quidditch player.
"Harry?" Ginny was looking at me expectantly. "Did you Floo by accident?"
I shook my head.
I'd decided to "go for a run" this afternoon when, upon trying to rouse Draco, he'd just groaned and humphed and had burrowed so far under the duvet, curling himself into a tiny ball I could hardly make out where he was under all the fluff of the feather-filled blanket.
Hungover Draco hated waking up and avoided sunlight even more carefully than a vampire, which was unfortunate because Drunk Draco was delightfully adorable, and I sort of wished he made an appearance more often.
And now, here I was, "home" at Grimauld Place, sitting in the reception and staring into the Floo, trying to figure out what I wanted to tell Ginny.
Sure, it was nice to use a mobile and call or text whenever was convenient, but I'd wanted a good old-fashioned Floo call because I'd wanted to see her, see her reactions and gauge what sort of situation I might be in that way.
And since Draco didn't have one in his flat....
"Where would I put a floo in here, Harry?" he'd asked when I'd asked to use it once. "I just Apparate to the Manor when I need it."
"We went out for pints last night," I blurted finally, and she nodded, dabbing some makeup onto her face, clearly accustomed to my random way of getting to what was important.
"You know... me, Draco, Mione, Ron, Pansy, and Blaise," I continued.
"Did you have a nice time?" she asked, still dabbing at her face, although her blue eyes slid over to me, so I knew she was paying attention. "What'd Pansy and Blaise think of all the shit that went down at Samhain? Did either of them do that ceremony and have ghosts come visit as well?"
I shook my head.
"Micah says 'Hi'," Ginny continued, and Micah came bounding into the room seconds later.
"Hi Harry!" she grinned, then frowned. "Is Draco there, too?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," I teased. "Didn't mean to disappoint you, ringing without my boyfriend."
To say that Micah and Draco had bonded over the long weekend was putting it mildly.
"I really like Micah," Draco had announced as he, Hermione, Ron, and I lazed beneath one of the trees in the garden Sunday afternoon, watching as Micah and Ginny swung gnomes over the fence, and I remembered how I'd enjoyed my first de- gnoming years ago.
"Can we adopt her?"
"She's twenty-eight, Draco," Hermione had replied, frowning. "I don't think she needs to be adopted by anyone."
Draco had just blinked at her for a second, then looked back at me.
"So... can we?"
"Erm, sure," I'd conceded, having no idea what Draco was talking about. "Why not?"
"Yay."
And he'd smiled his adorable, little satisfied smile, and I was glad I'd decided to let him adopt Micah, whatever the fuck that meant.
Apparently, he and Micah spoke the same language because later that day, when he'd announced that he'd adopted her, Micah had squealed with delight and all but leapt into Draco's arms.
"Is 'adopt,' like, American for marrying, or something?" George had asked.
Ginny and I had glanced at each other and shrugged.
"I suppose we ought to just be glad our two people get along," she'd mused as Draco and Micah continued to squeal and twirl around the room, adoption now complete, or whatever.
"Oh, shut up, Harry," Micah retorted. "You know I love you and your stupid face just as much as I love Draco's."
"So," Ginny cut in, beginning to brush some shadow on her lids. "What's wrong? Why are you flooing? Did you and Draco have a row?"
"No," I replied. "But... at the pub last night, erm... Ben showed up. He's Drac..."
"What the fuck?" Micah interrupted.
She and Ginny were both sitting up straight, full attention on my face in the Floo.
"I thought Draco Obliviated him," Ginny added, leaning towards me, make-up set aside for the time being.
"I didn't know you knew about Ben," I said, frowning.
"We were talking about coming out to our Muggle partners, and he came up," Ginny informed me.
"Oh."
For some reason, it bothered me he'd talked to them about Ben.
What else had he told them?
Draco and I had never really had a conversation about Ben, and why would we?
I didn't need to know the full details of all of his past relationships, and I knew he'd had a few.
I knew he'd dated a gorgeously suave Muggle he'd met in Paris named Etienne just after the War, and that he'd brought him back to London to live in the flat he'd shared with Blaise and Pansy.
His first serious relationship, if you will, and yet, any mention of Etienne didn't phase me.
I knew about another bloke named Liam, that he'd been serious about just a year or two ago, who had also shared this same flat with Draco, probably filling a very similar daily role in his life to the one I now did.
They didn't bother me the way Ben did — there was something about Ben that always seemed to hint that he was "the one that got away."
And who in their right mind would ever want to hear about their current partner's "one that got away?"
And, to be honest, that's probably what was bothering me the most about the whole Ben situation.
That nagging little voice that always popped up whenever Ben, or Boston, or anything that made me think of either, crept into the conversation.
The little voice that constantly whispered:
"But what if he hadn't had to Obliviate him? They'd still be together, probably. Does Draco wonder what could have been? Does he miss him sometimes? Even just a little bit? How do you compare, Harry?"
"What did he do?" Micah asked, brow furrowing. "What did you do?"
"I mean, he was typical Draco," I replied. "Ben said he looked familiar and asked if he knew him. Draco didn't even flinch and just looked him over and said he didn't think so.
"I didn't even realise who he was, except he didn't leave, and then I picked up on the accent."
"He was trying to pull Draco when you were sitting right there?" Ginny asked. "I hate that. It's so rude."
"No," I frowned. "I mean, maybe that's what he came over to do, but I asked him who the hell he was, and he said he was just trying to figure out why Draco looked familiar.
"He said that Draco didn't have one of those faces that just looks familiar," I added with a grin.
Because Merlin, was Ben right about that.
There was no mistaking Draco for any other blond — at least in my mind.
And, apparently, Ben's Obliviated one.
"And then what?" Ginny asked. "He just left you alone?"
"I asked if he was from Boston and told him maybe he knew Draco from there, and then he left." I clarified. "I don't know... I suppose he thought it was a reasonable explanation."
"He's bloody gorgeous," I added.
"Of course he is," Ginny replied, turning back to her mirror and beginning to apply mascara, then paused, glancing back at me, her little eyelash wand paused mid-stroke.
"Don't tell me you're worried," she sighed, dropping the mirror and mascara wand. "You know damned well you're gorgeous, too."
"I'm not... that kind of gorgeous," I mumbled.
Because fuck Merlin, Ben was gorgeous.
Honestly, I hadn't been able to stop myself from giving him a cursory glance, even as he'd tried to pull Draco.
Sandy blond hair, dark blue eyes, a jawline that could fucking slice paper, and something that just hinted at a little bit of danger in that sort of Boston way that left me no doubt Ben had grown up in Southie, even if his accent hadn't been a dead giveaway.
And then there'd been the v-neck and jeans he'd opted to wear that only accentuated what, far as I could tell, was a perfect body.
It honestly hadn't bothered me too much last night, happily numbed by several pints, but today all I'd been able to think about was how bloody gorgeous Ben was and imagine the two of them rolling around in the sheets — which, honestly, under different circumstances — would have been hot as fuck and quite enjoyable.
But then my brain began to toss me images of Draco being sweet to Ben.
Pressing sweet kisses to his forehead and pulling him close.
Holding him.
Loving him.
I didn't like those images as much.
I was interrupted from my reverie by Micah laughing out loud.
"Not that kind of gorgeous?!" she demanded, eyes darting between Ginny and me.
"Harry's clueless," Ginny replied, returning to her mascara.
"Does Draco need to get some of those wizard mirrors that are brutally honest?"
Ginny snorted, and I shook my head.
"Draco's got tons of mirrors," I assured her.
"Haz," Ginny sighed, setting her makeup down again. "You know Draco's absolutely mad for you — I mean, you've seen the way he looks at you, right?"
"I know that," I sighed. "I guess... I mean... he had to Obliviate him, right?"
Micah and Ginny nodded.
"I guess... what's bothering me... is that..." I paused and bit my lip, not knowing how to spit this out.
Rather, I didn't want to.
Somehow, saying it out loud made it more real.
"If he hadn't Obliviated him, maybe they'd still be together," I blurted finally, shoving a hand through my hair.
There was a brief pause, then Micah piped up:
"Yeah, and if my ex weren't a manipulative bitch, we'd probably still be together, too."
"And if my ex weren't a giant cockslut, and if I hadn't forced us to have that awkward conversation about us both preferring our same gender sexually, we might still be together, too," Ginny drawled, staring at me pointedly.
I rolled my eyes at both of them.
"Look, I know it's weird and awkward, but have you just, I dunno, asked Draco about it?" Ginny asked.
"Like, just asked him what his take on the whole situation is and if it might have opened up any sort of 'what if' feelings for him?"
I shook my head.
"No, we all got a bit sloshed last night," I admitted. "He's home right now, probably still buried beneath the duvet."
"Well, then, my advice would be to talk to him about it," Ginny said. "Because we both know how much you love talking about awkward things."
Speaking of awkward things... there was another issue that had been bothering me, and while it wasn't linked solely to Draco's past with Ben, his showing up last night and the subsequent visuals my brain had decided to start feeding me this morning certainly hadn't helped.
"What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked, putting down her mascara and giving me her full attention once more. "What's really bothering you?"
I was rubbish at hiding anything from anyone, but especially Ginny.
"Just blurt it out," she advised, knowing that I was struggling with what to say.
"DidyouknowDracowasn'talwaysatop?" I mumbled.
Ginny frowned for a second, then shook her head.
"No," she replied, finally. "We didn't exactly get to his detailed sexual past and preferences over breakfast last Saturday."
"Wow... you deciphered that?" Micah asked, looking impressed.
"When Harry and I were hashing out our feelings, he spoke almost entirely in 'Harry Mumble'," Ginny informed her with an almost affectionate eye-roll and smile in my direction.
"I'm practically fluent at this point."
"So, Haz, lovey," Ginny turned back to me. "Am I correct in guessing that maybe you're a little worried that Draco might not want to top all the time?"
I paused for a second, then nodded quickly, almost shyly, studiously avoiding her gaze.
"And... how would you feel about that?" she asked, going back to her make-up because she knew if she didn't look at me, I'd be less embarrassed.
"Fine, I guess," I replied honestly. "I mean... obviously, I sort of prefer, you know... kind of always end up on the bottom, but..."
"You'd make an exception for him?" Ginny asked.
"Put in your best effort?" Micah chimed in with a little wink in my direction. "Give it your best shot?"
"Try your hardest?"
Ginny smirked at me, then went back to sifting through what looked like an unnecessary amount of lipsticks and glosses.
"I mean, it's not like it would be a huge hardship, or I would be put out," I huffed. "I'm not completely against topping.
"I just... think the results would be better if it happened only when I was... in the mood."
Which, honestly, did happen, just not... often.
"Aha," Ginny cut in, selecting a little tube from the array before her so that I wasn't quite sure if she was talking to me or triumphant about having selected her shade for the evening.
"So, you're worried that, maybe, you're not in the mood as often as he might want you to be?"
"Erm... yeah, I guess."
Honestly, if I were guessing completely based off of our sexual interactions together, I would never have imagined that Draco bottomed ever.
But there had been hints from conversations and jests from Pansy and Blaise.
And those hints were further supported by the, frankly, ridiculous number of sex toys Draco had hidden around the flat and his rooms at the manor.
And then, there'd been all those memories — the ones he'd seared into my brain during that one punishment where he'd barred me from the bathroom while he soaked and read his stupid book in the tub.
Those had left no doubt that Draco definitely didn't mind being fucked once in a while.
"Well, the way I see it, you've got three options," Ginny was saying, and I shook my head to clear it of the images of Draco pleasuring himself in and on and around the tub and focus on what Gin was saying.
"Option one — you could not say anything and keep wondering and worry your pretty little head that he's unsatisfied, or thinks you wouldn't be interested, or that, maybe, you're just not 'top' material in his mind, or whatever it is you've managed to convince yourself of."
I scowled at her because, of course, she'd hit just about every worry on the head.
"Or you could man up and ask him about it and have another one of those lovely awkward conversations that you love so much," she continued.
"What's option three?" I asked hopefully.
Ginny finished applying her lipstick and grinned over at me slyly.
"You could just bend him over his own dining table next time the mood strikes and see what he thinks about that..."
***
Saturday Afternoon
07 November 2009
Ron's POV
"Ugh, let's never go out for pints with that lot unless we've remembered to brew a proper Hangover potion ever again," I groaned, gulping down a glass of water and staring tiredly at my wife, who looked just as miserable as I felt.
"Agreed."
She looked like she was about to say more when my mobile rang, and she shook her head tiredly, reaching for my glass to refill it for herself.
"Gin," I rasped, picking up the call and wondering why my sister was ringing me. "What's up?"
"What happened last night?" she demanded. "With Ben?"
"Ben?" I asked, frowning, then remembering when that bloke had come over, insisting that he knew Draco from somewhere.
Merlin, that had been weird.
Like, honestly, we've probably all seen an old pull from across the room, but we all knew better than to go talking to them when they were clearly with someone else, right?
But apparently he was more than just some bloke Malfoy had pulled ages ago and was actually a legit ex who Malfoy had Obliviated...
"Erm, he's Malfoy's ex," I answered, scratching the back of my head and shutting my eyes, willing the pounding in my head to go away. "Why?"
Obviously, I knew why, but it seemed an easy enough way to get Ginny talking... because I knew she must have just talked to Harry.
And, sure, Harry hadn't seemed upset last night, but we'd all had many pints by the time Ben had shown up and then several more after that.
In the harsh, sobering light of the morning after, it dawned on me that it had probably been very disquieting for Harry to be confronted with his boyfriend's ex like that.
I mean, sure, he'd said he was just trying to place Draco, but it'd been pretty obvious he'd come over hoping to do more than just talk to Malfoy.
"Harry just Floo-ed," she informed me, confirming my suspicions.
"He's got himself all worked up, convinced Draco's wondering 'what if' and wishing he and ex-lover-boy were still a thing."
I groaned as I slumped onto the sofa, Hermione glancing at me curiously as she curled up in the armchair across from me, glass of water clutched in her hands as though it were the most precious object she'd ever held.
"Gin," I sighed. "You and Micah should go out and enjoy being young while you can. Once you get old like me, you won't be able to handle the morning after anymore."
"We're an entire year younger than you, idiot," she shot back before launching right back in.
"So Harry wasn't upset last night? What happened? I want to hear someone else's take on it."
I frowned for a moment, then retold her my version of what had happened, including my opinion that Ben 'only wanting to talk' to Draco was absolute bollocks.
"Do you think Draco cast the spell reluctantly, then?" Hermione piped up, having pieced together what was going on.
"I dunno," I replied.
"Hang on, Gin," I instructed. "I'm putting you on speaker. Mione's here."
"Hermione, what do you think?" she asked.
"I mean, Harry's really upset... not, like, angry-upset, but... upset. And now he's convinced he's not right for Draco and letting all his little insecurities come out... you know how he can get."
"Convinced he's not right for Draco?" Hermione repeated with a cackle of laughter. "Merlin, both those boys are blind sometimes...
"Honestly, I don't think Draco would cast any spell without absolutely meaning it," she continued thoughtfully. "I don't think it's in his nature.
"I mean, obviously, he loved Ben," she went on, "And would have been hurt by Ben's reaction to discovering he's a wizard, but he would have also realised that Ben was, essentially, not accepting him, and I think that would have been the end, full stop, for Draco.
"He's really good at separating his emotions from his needs and wants like that," she mused, smiling over at me, finally looking a tad more like her normal self.
"I wonder what that would be like," I mused, causing all three women to laugh at me.
"I'm sorry, Ron," Ginny giggled. "I'm really not any better at it, but you definitely don't separate your emotions from anything.
"Anyway, Ben really proved himself a bloody wanker when he went all religious on Draco for being a wizard, in my opinion."
"I agree!" I heard Micah call out from another room. "Can you believe he tried to fling holy water on Draco? The fucking lunatic!"
"I'm sorry," Hermione interjected with a disbelieving shake of her head. "Ben did what?"
"What's holy water?" I asked, glancing at Hermione.
"Merlin, Ron, I forget how wizard you are," she chuckled.
"It's water that's been blessed by a priest, mainly in the Catholic church... you know, one of the main Muggle religion branches," Hermione explained, seeing my confused look.
"It's supposed to bless people and the physical church as well as ward off evil and anything related to the devil, like witches and...."
"Let me get this straight," I interrupted, shaking my head and regretting it instantly as my headache surged back full force.
"There are Muggles who believe that some random person can bless water, and then said water can just ward off evil, like... like bloody magic?!
"And... and... this idiot that Draco was dating found out he was magic, and so used the fake water magic to ward off Draco's real magic?
"Bloody mental, some of you Muggles are, sometimes."
I glanced at Hermione, then at my mobile — as though Gin and Micah could see me — just to make sure I was understanding this logic correctly.
"Yup," I recognised Micah's voice. "That idiot fucked up, and I, personally, will be damned if he gets in the way of Draco and Harry."
Micah paused for a second.
"Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly. "I know I don't know the guy, but I can't help but think he's an utter tool. I mean, yeah, it's a fucking shock to find out your partner's a witch or wizard — and that witches and wizards and magic are all real, not gonna lie, but it's like any other curveball a relationship throws at you... you fucking decide whether you love the person enough to work through it or you don't. Ben clearly decided that he didn't, end of story. He doesn't get to go and decide he wants Draco again because his memory's coming back and he realises he made a mistake."
I'll admit, I was impressed by her speech, and I grinned over at Hermione.
"Gin, this one's a keeper," I told my sister, just in case she hadn't figured it out yet.
"I know," she replied, and I could hear a big smooch land on Micah's cheek. "But we're not talking about me and Micah."
"What did you tell Harry?" Hermione asked curiously. "I mean, how did he seem when he left?"
"Better," Ginny replied. "But... he's Harry, and he'll probably have worked himself back up by the time he gets back to the flat or as soon as Draco... I dunno... accidentally ignores him in his haste to get a glass of water to chase his hangover or something."
"Well, why don't you send him a text in a bit to see how he's doing, or remind him that Draco adores him, and it's obvious," Hermione suggested.
"You know I would, but it's probably better Harry not know we've just spent the past half-hour discussing his relationship...."
***
Saturday Afternoon
07 November 2009
Harry's POV
After hanging up with Ginny and Micah, I'd decided to laze about Grimmauld Place for a bit, finding the familiarity of the place comforting as I reflected on my relationship with Draco.
It was hard to believe we'd only been living together for a little over a month and that we'd been exclusively dating for only three.
It felt like much longer and in a good way.
Getting to know the real Draco and all of his idiosyncrasies while letting my own carefully constructed walls drop was probably the most exhilarating thing I'd ever experienced — yes, even more so than Quidditch.
And the way he'd consoled me after my family had left on Samhain had been so beautifully tender that my heart still melted because who would have ever guessed that Draco fucking Malfoy would be so natural at being gentle and comforting?
Because I'll be honest.
I'd been difficult to be around of late.
I'd been glum and morose all week, and, honestly, last night's drunken fumblings had been the first sex we'd had since that mortifying episode where Narcissa had walked in on us once again, and I'd almost been glad that Lucius had been there because, well, it had certainly made me laugh about being caught bent over the bannister overlooking the massive entry hall of Malfoy Manor.
But since Samhain, I'd just not been in the mood.
The first few days back at the flat had been particularly rough — just trying to deal with the emotional toll of spending one blissful evening with my parents, Sirius, and Remus, only to have to say goodbye, not knowing if I would ever see them or be able to share a part of my life with them ever again.
The real clincher had been when my dad had pulled me aside once we'd noticed the sky turning light and knew our time together was drawing to a close.
"It's been so incredible being able to spend time with you and get to know you, Harry," he'd said, and next second, I'd felt the icy touch of his ghostly hand trace along my temple.
His little smirk had reappeared, and I'd had to admit, after an entire night in his presence, I was beginning to understand why people called my own smile impish.
"And you've made your mum and I so proud," he'd continued. "Of you, all that you've done since Hogwarts. Your relationship with Draco..."
"My relationship with Draco?" I'd echoed, frowning in bewilderment.
I mean, yes, it'd been wonderful having that experience of introducing my boyfriend to my family, and it was clear that my parents, Sirius, and Lupin all liked Draco, but I hadn't expected 'proud' as a sentiment on their end.
" Of course," Dad had replied, smile turning melancholic once more. " It's the truest sign of growing up , in my opinion .
"Allowing someone to see that most vulnerable, raw part of you — the real you — all of your flaws, and let them love you, nonetheless, and inspire you to be a better person.
"That was your mum for me. And I see that in you and Draco."
Draco had been nothing but a fucking gentleman all week, too.
Hadn't even mentioned or hinted at feeling put out, and had even gone out of his way to hold me and hug me and let me know that, in some way, he understood what I was going through and that he was there for me, no matter what.
Just a few nights ago, we'd been relaxing in the reception, Draco engrossed in his research, as usual.
He'd been sitting on the sofa facing the telly and the windows opposite while I was curled up and staring out the window at the bleary grey of London in the winter on the one perpendicular.
I'd started when I'd felt Draco's arms wrapping around me and drawing me close, mouth pressing a gentle kiss just above my ear.
I hadn't even realised I'd been crying.
"I'm sorry," I'd mumbled into his neck, tears falling freely now. "I didn't mean to distract you again."
"Harry," he'd sighed, pulling me even closer somehow.
"You're not a distraction," he'd assured me. "My research can wait."
***
Saturday Afternoon
07 November 2009
Harry's POV
It was nearly four o'clock, and I'd been back at the flat for a few hours now, having finally sort of convinced myself that what Draco and I had was special and whatever he'd had with Ben could go fuck itself.
Of course, my heart had nearly split in two when I'd first Apparated home because Draco wasn't there, and so I'd consoled myself by slumping down on the sofa to watch the telly.
But the telly wasn't quite doing its job to distract me anymore, and I was now curled up and staring out the window again, not even paying attention to what was happening on the screen.
I couldn't have even told you what I was watching.
"Harry?" Draco's voice called me away from the fascinating scenery of raindrops tracing their way down the windowpane, and I glanced up, forcing what I hoped was a cheerful smile.
"Hi," I chirped, sitting up a little straighter, watching as Draco neatly unwound his scarf and shrugged off his coat, hanging both on the stand just beside the door.
His eyes never left mine, and his expression told me I wasn't doing a very good job of appearing nonchalant and unbothered.
"How are you?"
"Erm... good," I replied, straightening even more. "Fine."
He was walking across the reception now, eyes still locked on mine, and one brow raised in a silent question.
"I meant it, you know," he stated cryptically, and I frowned.
"Meant what?"
"... I meant it when I cast it," he informed me, taking a seat beside me on the sofa, drawing his left leg up so he could turn and face me.
I just blinked back at him, unsure how to respond.
"Oh, erm..." I stammered, eyes darting to glance at the space between us.
"Harry," he sighed, leaning his left side into the back of the sofa and smiling softly up at me.
"There's an erumpent in the room, and his name is Ben. Did you want to talk about it now? Or did you want to try straightening up a bit more and pretending you're fine?"
I groaned and gave up all pretence, slumping forward into him.
"I'm so terrible at that," I confided, and Draco chuckled, arms wrapping around me. I immediately buried my face into his neck, inhaling the layers of sandalwood, rose, and the delicious smell that was just him.
"No offence, Harry," he replied, tracing patterns up and down my back. "But... yeah, you are."
"It's just, well, I know you loved him," I began, glancing up hesitantly as Draco immediately pulled back and frowned.
"Well, of course, I did," he agreed.
"I mean, Harry, honestly," he chuckled a bit. "I feel as though you ought to be more concerned if you'd somehow ended up dating a man who'd spent three years with someone and hadn't loved him..."
"True," I conceded because, obviously, that'd be odd and sociopathic-y, to say the least.
"I guess, it's... it's because you had to Obliviate him," I blurted out, not quite meeting his eyes. "I mean, what if you hadn't had to?"
"I don't see how that's relevant," Draco answered, eyes narrowing as he frowned in thought.
"What do you mean? Of course, it's relevant," I shot back, hackles rising slightly. "You might still be together. You might still be in love. Don't tell me you've never wondered 'what if'?"
"No," Draco replied immediately, something flashing in those stormy eyes of his. "Never."
I raised a brow back at him in challenge because, bullshit, obviously.
"Harry, I Oblivated him because he couldn't accept that I was... am... a wizard. He couldn't accept the very core of what I am, my key identity, really.
"I mean, surely you can relate?" he continued, eyes locked on mine once more. "Who would you be if you were no longer a wizard? What would you do if I, for some reason, told you to fuck off and stop being one?
"As if either of us could...."
I started, then blanched a little.
Because no longer being a wizard would, honestly, feel like a part of me was missing at this point.
And I could only imagine, for someone like Draco, who'd never even experienced a brief part of his life not identifying as one.
"As far as I'm concerned, Ben couldn't accept... refused to accept the most essential part of me. And I'm not sure if he ever actually loved me, or if it was just the idea of me, but..."
Draco sighed and shook his head.
"Harry, he went insane," he continued, eyes seeking mine again. "He... he threw things, screamed at me, told me I was worshipping the Devil... that I was consorting with the Devil."
Draco paused to smirk at me knowingly.
"Little did he know, hmm?" he quipped, then paused, a little shudder running through him.
"He even flung water at me ... this weird Muggle invention where water blessed by another Muggle is somehow magic and gets rid of anything evil?"
Draco paused again.
"I won't lie — it was awful — it devastated me.
"I cried and sulked and needed some time to get over him, sure, but... I have, I promise you that.
"There is no 'what if'."
I couldn't help but smile at him then.
"Thank you," I told him earnestly. "For telling me all this."
"He's bloody gorgeous, Draco," I blurted out then, and Draco tilted his head back in my direction, raising a brow.
"Of course he is," he shot back, hand plucking up one of my own and interlacing our fingers.
"Any bloke lucky enough to date me will, obviously, be gorgeous..."
Draco paused, then smirked.
"As well as capable of intelligent, witty conversation, and able to suck cock like it were an Olympic sport, and he was going for gold...
"Now, which one's got your pretty head worried? I'm sure it's not the last one," he finished with a lascivious wink that sent a little thread of desire curling in my stomach.
"Shut up," I retorted, yanking my hand from his grasp so I could cross my arms and glare up at him.
"So witty," he replied, clasping both hands over his heart, eyes shut in mock rapture. "As always, Potter."
Draco's eyes opened, and there was something in his gaze then that stopped the snarky reply on my lips.
"Forget about Ben or anything he might have once been to me," he instructed, tugging me gently to straddle his lap, mouth seeking mine.
"He doesn't even come close to comparing what I feel for you."
And I melted into him as warm hands cupped my face, tongue licking into my mouth, drinking up my groan of surrender as one hand slid around to tangle into my hair and pull me closer while the other slid down to trace along my chest before reaching beneath my jumper to tug it over my head.
I quickly obliged, encouraging him by vanishing the remainder of our clothing, eager to feel the slick slide of his skin, so warm and fucking soft, like the finest satin, beneath my hands.
I allowed Draco to tumble me backwards onto the couch, his hands firm, yet gentle, almost reverent, as they explored my torso, ran down my sides and reached down to grip my arse, pulling me closer, urging me to arc up into him as his mouth continued to plunder my own, our cocks slipping and grinding against each other as we pushed into each other shamelessly.
I made an almost embarrassing sound of protest when Draco dragged his mouth from mine and began to press and lick and suck kisses down my neck and torso, each torturous drag of his lips and glide of his tongue against my skin causing me to squirm and moan or gasp as my hands moved to touch and grasp and plead with whatever parts of him I could reach.
He spent an almost torturous amount of time worshipping first one nipple, head dipping down to press a reverent kiss on my sternum, right near my heart, before moving to the other.
"Draco," I begged, legs reaching up to wrap around him, working in tandem with my arms, wrapped around his shoulders, to urge him downward. "Please."
Draco ignored me, rising up to capture my mouth again, teeth pulling gently at my bottom lip before sliding that wicked tongue of his between my lips to lick into my mouth once more, plunging and swirling, retreating as I followed and I, as usual, was reduced to incoherent begging almost immediately.
"Draco," I tried again, head lifting in an attempt to follow him, "Stop being a bloody tease."
He didn't reply.
Just kept licking and sucking and kissing — adoring me, it felt like, mouth and hands working down my torso once more, although I noted, happily, that both were touching and travelling at a much more frenzied pace than they had earlier.
"Ungh," I cried out, eloquent as always, when he gently teased the length of my cock with his tongue, swirling and sucking gently at the tip.
"Mmm," he sighed, grey-blue eyes fluttering open as he leaned in for another suck.
"I know I've teased you in the past..." he began, tongue licking obscene stripes up my cock as he continued, and I squeezed my eyes shut with a groan — of encouragement or protest, I couldn't say — as Draco continued to tease me with his words and tongue.
"About wanting a Malfoy-flavoured lolly."
Lick. Suck. Swirl.
Fuck me.
"But," another leisurely lick as his eyes flickered shut and, Merlin, but why was that so bloody hot?
"I rather think I'd prefer they made a Harry-flavoured one," Draco told me, gently sucking at just the tip of my cock, tongue pressing into the sensitive spot where head met shaft before swirling once more.
"I'd buy them by the half-dozen, at least."
Another lick before he swallowed me down.
"To keep me satisfied when you're away for work."
Merlin, why was I so lucky? I managed to wonder before Draco began sucking me off in earnest, and I was torn between letting him continue and coming in that sweetly sucking mouth of his or trying to hold out and hope he'd fuck me wide open.
I mean, if I were really lucky, I'd get both, and I shut my eyes, fingers tangling in his hair as I gave in to encouraging him, hips rising eagerly into his greedy mouth.
He slurped up and off, suddenly, ignoring my whine of protest, and I was almost embarrassed at how needily my hands reached out for him, only to fall limply at my sides as Draco trailed his hands down my thighs, smirking up at me, mouth deliciously plump and reddened from his attention.
"Merlin, Harry," he sighed, hands pressing gently at the backs of my knees, urging my legs to bend up and out.
"I fucking love you like this," he told me, eyes focused on me and a slight blush rose in my cheeks and across my chest as I realised there was no doubt exactly which part of my body his gaze was focused on.
"Spread open like a fucking feast," he continued, bending down to give a few gentle swipes of his tongue at my opening, and I couldn't help but groan, fingers reaching back into his hair, encouraging him to continue licking and swirling.
I gasped when he fastened his mouth to me, tongue sharpening and driving in, and I couldn't help but push back and beg him to continue.
Merlin, I thought to myself dazedly as I practically involuntarily fucked myself up into Draco's mouth.
But Ben had been a fucking idiot to give this up.
The sex alone would have been enough to keep Draco around, never mind any of the myriad other qualities I'd been discovering that made him the catch of a lifetime.
"Harry," he sighed finally, rising up, pressing my thighs open again as he stared down at me, eyes so bloody lust-blown I couldn't have told you what colour they were.
"Yes," I groaned, keenly aware that he hadn't asked anything.
I groaned again, arms flinging up to pull him down for a thorough kiss as I felt the head of his cock nudge against my opening, and I eagerly pressed back, urging him in, gasping into his mouth as he continued to slide slowly into me.
Fuck, but he was taking his time.
It was almost too slow, and I flung my head back and arched up into him, a stupidly gaspy-groaning noise coming out of me as I did so.
"Harry..." I barely heard him, it was so quiet.
Not even a whisper, more like an exhalation of breath, a prayer, and I pulled his mouth down towards mine to claim his as my arms and legs wound themselves around his shoulders and waist, pulling him as close as possible.
It seemed to do the trick because Draco groaned — one of the most beautiful, tortured groans I'd ever heard from him — and his hips began snapping into me, long, sure strokes that left me gasping, my own hips rising to meet his as I threw my head back, moaning as Draco's mouth latched onto that spot just above my collarbone, knowing my release wouldn't be far off.
"Fuck," he groaned suddenly, hips slowing just slightly as he continued to plunge his entire length in and out of me — three long, hard strokes — his eyes sliding shut, a look of utter bliss flitting across his face before his hips stilled and he all but collapsed on top of me.
"Fuck, Harry," he sighed, head burrowing into my neck. "I'm sorry..."
Before I could even respond, Draco's mouth was trailing down my body again, the tingling of another cleansing charm rushing through me.
"Merlin, you have no idea," I barely heard him mutter, mouth wrapping around my cock once more, and all thoughts of responding in more than groans and enthusiastically tangling my hands in his hair flew from my brain, my orgasm coming far too quickly now that Draco's mouth was working my cock, and I knew I'd be saving the image of him, eyes snapping open to lock with my own as he swallowed me down one last time, giving one last longing suck before my prick became too sensitive.
"Hmm," he sighed, crawling back up to wrap his arms around me, and I eagerly snuggled into his chest, burying my face in his neck and slinging one leg up over his hips to pull him even closer.
"Mmm..." it seemed the only response I could muster right now, sated as I was.
Draco shifted around a bit and arranged us so that we were both comfortably lying on the sofa, and I lifted my face towards his for another kiss.
However, my mind couldn't help thinking back to that other niggling concern I'd talked to Ginny and Micah about earlier today, and I tried to push it aside for another time.
"Harry?" Draco asked, frowning down at me.
"Hmm?"
"Tell me," he commanded, pulling me closer to him with a tiny smile.
"I'm fi..." I began, and Draco pressed a gentle kiss to my mouth.
"What is it?"
I groaned and buried my face in his neck once more.
I mean, really, how was I supposed to bring this up?
"What?" Draco was pulling back, that delighted smile on his face that I loved so much when it wasn't aimed at me. "What is this delightful blush you've got rising in your cheeks here?"
Draco's eyes were sparkling with glee, and he raised a hand to trace gently along my cheekbones.
I knew my face had to be flaming because Draco's fingers felt somewhat cool to the touch, and he usually ran a little warm.
"I..." I tried again, only to groan and bury my face in his shoulder again.
"I mean, it doesn't really have anything to do with Ben," I reasoned, but Draco just rolled his eyes.
"So long as we're discussing awkward niggles in our relationship, we might as well get it all out in one day, hmm?"
He was running his fingers through my hair, and my eyes closed involuntarily, because fingers running through my hair....
"Harry... let's talk, hmm?"
He tilted my head up so he could look me in the eye.
So, naturally, I immediately shifted my gaze downwards.
"I... erm..."
"Just spit it out, Harry," Draco advised.
"I... well..."
"I mean, if you really want, I could read it from your brain," he offered, and I glared up at him.
"Don't you dare. You've had your one free pass with that with the Dursleys," I reminded him.
Draco's gaze hardened.
"That was different," he countered, pulling me closer. "That was something that had harmed you and needed to be dealt with. I would never go into your mind for something personal like this."
Honestly, I was tempted to tell him to slip into my mind to save me the embarrassment of saying it aloud, but I also didn't really want to be setting a precedent for future difficult conversations.
"I just... sometimes I wonder if, maybe, erm..." I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.
"If you ever miss not topping?"
I waited a moment, then sneaked a glance up at him.
He wasn't looking at me.
He was glancing thoughtfully off to the side, a little smile curving his mouth, and I figured that had to be an okay sign, at least, right?
"What makes you worried about that?" he asked finally, hands threading through my hair as he looked down at me expectantly.
"I... well, I know you've bottomed before, and you still have all the toys, and..." I paused and shrugged. "I just wondered if you wish I'd..."
I paused because I'd come so very close to saying what scared me the most.
"What? Do I wish you'd come at me, eyes blazing, all, I'm-Harry-Potter-Saviour-of-the-World-Fuck-Voldemort' and shove me down on the bed and have your way with me?" he asked.
Merlin, but how did he always hit it right on the head?
I nodded, still buried in his neck.
"No," Draco said finally, somehow pulling me closer. "I don't."
Another moment.
"Promise?"
Draco's hand stilled on its path through my hair, and he giggled.
Giggled.
"Harry," he managed around another giggle. "Honestly, love, please, consider everything you know about me..."
I nodded, refusing to look up at him because how the fuck was he laughing right now?
"If I really wanted you to fuck me, don't you think I'd have let you know somehow?" he asked, sniggering again.
"You know," he continued. "In my own, unique, completely subtle way?"
And I couldn't help a snigger of my own because when was Draco ever subtle about something he wanted?
Draco's hand was still tangling through my hair, and he gently tugged so that I looked up at him.
"Honestly, I don't really have much of a preference on my own," he assured me, frowning as though thinking this through for the first time himself. "I really just mainly get off on the other bloke getting off, and I'm not sure I've ever had a strong inclination one way or the other...
"Course, I do end up topping quite a lot..."
I snorted because, of course, he did.
He shot me a mock glare before continuing.
"But, really, I just want to watch you come, and if that means I will always be the one fucking you..."
He paused, eyes sliding shut.
"Merlin, Harry, do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are when you come?"
I didn't answer and just burrowed further into his neck, hoping the question was rhetorical because I'd had rather enough blushing for one night thankyouverymuch.
"Anyway," he continued mercifully. "I love fucking you. I will never, ever tire of fucking you, or get bored fucking you, or feel anything besides ecstatic and lucky to be fucking you.
"However, should you wake up one morning and decide you really want to fuck me into the mattress, I won't complain, either."