Harry sat in the Three Broomsticks with a butterbeer on the table in front of him and let his mind meander around. The thought of Ron and Hermione in Madam Puddifoot's teashop made him smile; it was nice to see his two best friends so happy and in love. Letting his mind wander over the subject brought his train of thought round to his own predicament.
Harry had no doubt that he was also in love. He had told Hermione as much and he knew that he had spoken nothing but the truth.
Casting his mind back over six years the current state of affairs rather amazed his smitten mind. He was in love with Draco Malfoy; the boy he had hated for a good percentage of his life, and it felt perfectly right. It felt as if the universe had shrugged and rearranged herself into what was supposed to be, rather than what had been. This was the correct path and years of vengeful hatred were nothing but a bad memory and a mistake.
The thing was, although something in Harry's soul knew this, the logical part of his brain that most people thought didn't exist, was pointing out how completely bizarre the whole situation was. A little voice at the back of his head was going 'I know what every instinct in your body is screaming, but don't you think this is odd?', and it was. Draco Malfoy, for heaven's sake, the most vindictive, petty, bully in the school; only Harry knew that wasn't the case anymore.
The Slytherin Prince, who made it his mission in life to torment all those beneath him, was gone. A boy had gone home after the sixth year and had come back a man, his eyes open, his decisions made. Rhetoric fell from Draco's mouth now only because he played a role, and Harry was one of the few people who knew what his boyfriend truly believed.
Picking up his butterbeer Harry took a swig and let the liquid swirl around his mouth, a mirror of what his thoughts were doing in his head. There was no changing the truth and he silenced the small voice for the last time. He had not known what he wanted from Draco until their first kiss; he had not recognised the need in himself then, but he recognised what had grown from it.
It was hard to believe that it had only been two weeks since their lips had first met. Two weeks of passionate kisses and over the clothes groping. Fourteen wonderful, desire filled days that had led Harry to one inescapable conclusion: he wanted more. He was inexperience and had never been very good at relationships or physical contact; he knew this and did not try and deny it. With his two girlfriends he had never known what to do or say properly, and even with help from the long-suffering Hermione, his attempts at love had both unequivocally ended. With Draco everything was different.
If he let himself admit it Harry knew why as well. Cho had been a crush, a simple infatuation with an idea rather than a real person. Harry had known there was something missing in his life and he had come to the logical conclusion that Cho could fill that spot. Backed up by teenage hormones he had gone after the fiction. It had been almost enough to scare him off girls for good.
Then there had been Briony who was the opposite of Cho, tall and blond and more into books than boys. Getting together with Harry had been something of an accident after they were paired together for a DADA project. Looking back he realised that that, in and of itself, should have given him a clue.
He smiled and took another swig of his drink. At least that relationship had sort or petered out rather than ended in a public bust up. Thinking about it now it seemed obvious that Briony had been more of a need to conform to what people expected than anything else.
Every move with both of his girlfriends had been fraught with confusion and misunderstanding. Harry could see that now, but when it came to Draco it was so different. Sometimes he thought that maybe he was possessed because it felt like another person was controlling his body. Cold logical thought had no place in his actions and he moved through the relationship on instinct, following his heart at every turn, and now his heart demanded more.
Harry ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully as he considered Draco. His boyfriend was far more experienced when it came to sex than Harry; that much was plainly obvious. Although he often instigated the encounters, Draco always ended up in the lead. and Harry knew for a fact that his boyfriend was holding off anything too heavy.
Sometimes Harry thought he had 'Virgin: treat with care' tattooed on his forehead because the only time he'd tried to take things a little further than fondling through clothes, Draco had slowed the whole thing down and backed off. It was absurd, but Harry felt as if his boyfriend was trying to protect him.
It was a little frustrating to say the least, but filled him with a strange warmth never the less, even as if made him all the more needy.
Draco wanted to keep him safe, so Harry knew he was going to have to show his very own Slytherin that safe could be a whole lot more than where they always made it to now. With his plots in mind Harry grinned to himself as he realised what he was considering; his Slytherin side had to be coming out because he was calmly planning to seduce his boyfriend. This was going to take some doing as well, as some time to figure out, and drinking the last of his butterbeer Harry began to formulate a strategy.
* * *
There were very few things that surprised Draco Malfoy, but, as it was turning out, Harry Potter was one of them. From the first offer of friendship up to their evening together earlier, Harry had managed to surprise Draco at every turn.
It had been a shock when Harry first offered him someone to talk to and he had dismissed the idea to begin with, but his loneliness had been too great. Harry Potter, apparently not the perfect Gryffindor everyone thought, had known exactly how he was feeling, and Draco had not been able to resist that. Harry made him happy in a way he never thought he would feel again.
Draco was lying in bed, looking at the canopy of his four-poster, remembering an evening that he would never have guessed at. If there was one person in the school that Draco would never have put down as a seducer it was Harry, and yet that was what his boyfriend had turned out to be. Oh they'd been more than just talking partners for three weeks now, but Draco had never even considered what would come next. The carefully planned seduction had been the furthest thing from his mind, but he smiled as he remembered it.
Harry had requested that they meet somewhere warmer than their normal rendezvous near the Whomping Willow and Draco had turned up at the disused girls' toilets thinking that it was a very strange place to talk. He closed his eyes and remembered what he had seen when he walked in: candles, over half the room there had been candles of all different sizes. The golden light of flame had made the whole place glow, and in the middle of it all had sat Harry Potter on a blanket set on the floor. He had smiled at Draco and Draco had let his guard down and shown Harry his true feelings.
"Like it?" Harry had said.
Draco didn't really remember what he had replied, but he did know that it had made Harry laugh. Draco had not registered when his barbs had changed from trying to hurt The Boy Who Lived to trying to make him smile, but it had happened and it continued. Even when they had first begun to talk Draco had thought it was a phase he was going through, a moment of weakness that would leave him again, but he had found that Harry was addictive.
Draco opened his eyes again as he remembered the green gaze that had pinned him down across the room and challenged him.
"Much warmer than the alcove near the willow," Harry had said; "much more comfortable for a little snogging."
And Draco had believed him; he almost laughed at himself, but bit back the sound that could alert his dorm mates. Harry Potter, pure as the driven snow; the idea that the whole evening was a seduction had never entered Draco's head. Draco Malfoy, the boy who could have any Slytherin he wanted and more besides, had actually taken his boyfriend at face value.
It was so ironic that it was funny, and Draco found he really didn't mind.
Oh they had lain on the blanket for a while kissing and petting with Draco taking the lead, as he seemed to do, and then the whole situation had shifted.
Draco's hand slid down his bare chest as his skin tingled with the remembered touch of Harry's hand and he put his head back savouring the sensation. Kisses had followed the skilful fingers and before Draco had realised what was happening he had been half naked on the floor with Harry Potter on top of him making him moan out his pleasure.
Draco was a consummate player in the game of sex; it was a skill that his father had encouraged as much as politics and magic, but, despite his experience, had been out played by his supposedly virginal companion tonight. Bashful, straightforward, Gryffindor Harry Potter had orchestrated the seduction of overt, slippery, Slytherin Draco Malfoy and it had been incredible.
As if he knew every secret of Draco's body Harry had pulled reactions from him as if he was tuning a fine musical instrument. He had been captivated and he had felt as if he was being worshipped by the other boy. He had surrendered to it more completely than he had ever given in to anything in his life.
Draco's hand drifted lower under the covers of his bed as he recalled Harry's feather light touch. The skilful Gryffindor had kissed every inch of his chest and then he had gone down on him with a passion that had taken Draco's breath away. His breath caught in his throat again as he became hard at the memory. Harry's mouth encircling him, the delicate lips running over his body and the tongue playing at the tip of his erection; it was all so clear in Draco's mind. He had wrapped his fingers in Harry's unruly dark hair and bucked beneath his new lover until his seed spilled into Harry's throat.
The Harry Potter of tonight had been a virtual stranger: Draco had never met the passionate, completely consuming man before; he had only ever known the slightly lost, occasionally angry boy. After he had made his captive scream his name, Harry had flipped Draco on his front and taken him; there was no other way to describe it. Harry had been so dominant and had opened him gently with lubricated fingers, caressed him like a delicate virgin, and entered him as if they were part of the same creature that needed to be rejoined.
Draco moved against his bed sheets feeling the slight soreness and remembering Harry inside him. His lover's caress had been insistent and demanding, but oh so gentle at the same time. Draco had never had a partner so in tune with his body. It was almost as if they were made for each other. When Harry had come he had whispered Draco's name as if it was a sacred word, and they had remained locked together for long seconds.
Draco remembered whimpering as Harry pulled out; not wanting the contact to end and they had lain in each other's arms for a long time. Then Harry, had looked Draco in the eye and declared his feelings in words that could not be mistaken.
"I love you, Draco Malfoy," Harry had said, "and nothing will ever change that."
That had been the strangest moment as cynical, world-weary Draco had believed Harry completely, and it had not frightened him. True love was a weakness, but then and now, as he lay in his bed he did not care.
"You are mine," Harry had told him with a certainty in his voice that, at one time, would have sent Draco running, "make me yours."
With carefree abandon they had swapped roles then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Draco had taken Harry the same way he had been taken. He remembered every second with crystal clear clarity and he turned his head into his pillow as a moan threatened to make it out of his throat at the passion the memory caused. His hand encircled his hard erection under the covers as he recalled the tightness of Harry surrounding him.
There had been nothing separating them, no protection spells, no crude Muggle devices and it had been the most exhilarating experience of Draco's life. Harry had surrendered to him completely, as he had done to Harry, and they had shared something so erotic and encompassing that it made Draco's head spin.
He pushed the covers down his bed as he moved his hand up and down his erection, lost in the recollection of Harry Potter. He should have been spent, curling on his side lost in dreams of sex, but, as his mind slipped back to the meeting, his body responded again. Draco remembered sliding in and out of his lover and his hand worked in time as he pushed his face further into the pillow to stifle the sounds of passion that filled his throat. He shuddered silently, his seed spilling on to his stomach as his memory and body reached climax at the same time.
It took Draco long minutes to come down from the sexual high and he lay, looking at the canopy of his bed, breathing hard. He had never been so consumed by a sexual encounter before and it took him time to return to reality. Moving silently he reached under his pillow and retrieved his wand from where it was hidden. With a whispered spell the physical signs of his exertions were gone and he was clean, but he lay there for a long time, awake.
Nearly seventeen years of Malfoy training down the toilet of the girl's loo; it should have been laughable or tragic, but it was neither. Draco knew without a doubt that Harry had claimed him and that he could never break that. Something deep inside him told him he had surrendered to a path that would never let him go. It was strange but, somehow, everything felt right with the world, and everything had never been right in Draco's universe before.
~*~
A/N: Many thanks for reading - I have decided to go with 2 Chapters a day to make sure this is posted in time for the sequel. I very much hope you are enjoying it.