Harry was underwater, swimming through the dark, murky waters of the Black Lake. It was the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and he was searching for something. Then he heard it, that beautiful, ethereal sound of the merpeople singing. They sounded like they were far away, but Harry wanted to get closer - he wanted to be able to hear the hypnotising voices more clearly. As Harry swam closer their voices swelled and Harry sighed, letting the music caress his skin. He felt like he was floating up and far away.
Harry's eyes snapped open and he instinctively reached for his wand under his pillow, then relaxed, realising he was only in his bed. He sat up suddenly because he could still hear the singing— was he still dreaming? He looked around and saw that he was alone in bed. Maybe last night had been a dream, too. The sound was drifting into the bedroom and Harry smiled. Draco was still here. Harry rolled over and felt the space next to him, still warm from where Draco had lain. Harry didn't want to leave his bed for fear of losing the memories of what had happened the night before. He was half-afraid he was still asleep but he climbed out of bed, padded out of the bedroom and peeked into the bathroom. Now he was sure he was in a waking dream. There was Draco in the shower, singing heartily along with the wireless radio, swaying his lithe hips and rubbing suds all over his body. A warm, pleasant feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach at the sight. He watched a few more moments before heading down to the kitchen to make breakfast.
The fireplace erupted in green flames and Hermione stepped into the living room of Grimmauld Place, nearly tripping over an empty bottle of beer as she entered.
"Bugger," she hissed.
She scanned the living room with growing bemusement at the state of disarray it had been left in. Beer bottles and leftover Chinese food littered the floor and coffee table, a pile of records lay discarded on the couch, and a dangerously large pile of dirty washing lay abandoned on one of the armchairs. Hermione stepped past the mess and headed for the kitchen and saw Harry stooped over the stove, humming happily as he cooked breakfast.
"Morning," she said brightly.
Harry spun around, looking shocked. "Hermione! What are you doing here?"
"I need to have a little chat with you about something. I was hoping to do it last night, but I didn't want to interrupt your little soirée with Malfoy. By the state the living room's in it looks like you had a good night. Ron's heading over, too, but you know what it's like trying to drag him out of bed in the morning." She spotted two steaming cups of tea on the kitchen counter and grabbed them. "Come on, we'll go chat in the living room while we wait for Ron."
"Hermione, could we do this later?" asked Harry hurriedly. "This isn't a good time."
Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, is everything alright? You look pale."
"I—" Harry began, then was cut off by Draco shouting.
"For Christ's sake, Harry, don't you have a house elf to do your washing? There's not a single clean towels in this house!"
Draco strode into the kitchen, naked and ringing wet. His eyes widened with horror when he spotted Hermione. Hermione reacted to Draco's sudden appearance by screaming and throwing the cups of tea in his direction. Draco yelped and doubled over in pain, scalding tea all down his front. He staggered backwards but his wet feet slipped on the stone floor and he fell hard onto his side.
"Draco! Are you alright?" Harry rushed to his side to help him up.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Draco shouted at Hermione.
"What are you doing here?" squealed Hermione shielding her eyes. "And why are you naked?"
"Generally people don't shower with their clothes on! Jesus, why did you throw tea at me?" he groaned. "Oh god, it hurts!"
"I'm sorry!" said Hermione desperately. "Oh god, please can you put some clothes on?"
"There are no towels!" Draco cried.
"Hold on," Harry grabbed a tea towel from the kitchen table and held it up to Draco to cover his modesty. Draco glared at him but Harry shook his head, "It'll have to do. Come on."
Draco and Harry stumbled out into the corridor leaving Hermione flustered and gibbering to herself in the kitchen.
Once calm had been restored and Draco had found a pair of boxers, he sat spread-eagle on the couch with burn salve applied liberally to the affected areas. Just then, the fireplace erupted into green flames again and Ron stepped into the living room. He raised an eyebrow at Draco as he walked past.
"Don't you ever leave?" he asked.
"Fuck off Weasel, I'm not in the mood," spat Draco.
Ron just chuckled and wandered into the kitchen. Harry was making fresh cups of tea while Hermione sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands.
"What's up with Malfoy?" he asked.
Hermione bit her lip, trying to look bashful and failing miserably. "We uh, had a bit of an accident."
"Accident?" shouted Draco indignantly. "Your girlfriend threw boiling hot water in my face! I'll be lucky if I'm not scarred for life!"
"I didn't throw it in your face! It got all your legs and..." she burst into fits of giggles.
"IT'S NOT FUNNY!"
"It is a little bit," said Harry gently entering the living room with a fresh cup of tea. "That's what you get for walking about with no clothes on."
"If you bothered to do your washing once in a while I wouldn't be forced to use a bloody tea towel to preserve my decency!"
"Just stay there and let the salve do its magic, you'll be fine!" Harry placed the cup in front of Draco. "Be careful with this one. It's hot."
"Very funny," he grumbled. Draco took a sip from the cup and settled back into the couch. "Thank you."
Harry left Draco to enjoy his tea in peace and joined his back at the kitchen table. both of them smirking at him when he reentered the room.
"So..." said Hermione with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I come over, you're nursing a hangover and Malfoy's naked in the kitchen. I take that you both had a fun night last night?"
Harry took a long sip of his tea before replying. "It's not what it looks like. We just had a couple beers, it got late and he crashed here. There's nothing to tell."
Hermione didn't look convinced. "And him bursting in on us naked?"
"He was looking for a towel!" Harry protested. "I didn't leave any in the bathroom. So. really it's my fault."
"Hmm."
Ron frowned. "No offence, mate, but the house is looking a little worse for wear. Where's Kreacher?"
"I sent him to live at Hogwarts," Harry explained. "He's too old to keep up with the housework around here. I thought about freeing him, but I think the shock would kill him. I spoke to Professor McGonagall about it and we both agreed that it was best for him if he stayed at Hogwarts for a bit, that way the other house elves can keep an eye on him. They'll help take care of him and get him everything he needs."
"So, he's technically retired?" asked Ron.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"That's very admirable of you, Harry," smiled Hermione. "He's spent so long on his own in this old house, I think it'll do him the world of good to spend time in the company with his own kind again."
"I didn't really appreciate how much Kreacher got done around here until now," Harry admitted. "Maybe I can have him back at the weekends to do the washing for me?" Hermione slapped his arm and Harry laughed. "I'm joking!"
"Housework and naked Malfoys aside, Hermione and I actually came here for a reason," said Ron looking serious all of a sudden. "I'm not sure if you heard, but we thought we'd better come tell you first before you read it in the papers."
Harry groaned and slumped back in his chair. "Christ, what is it now?"
"It's nothing bad," Ron reassured him. "Well, not exactly. It's about Ginny and Neville."
"Oh? Are they alright?"
"Yeah, they're fine mate," said Ron looking a little embarrassed. "More than fine, actually. They're eh...they're getting married."
Harry blinked. "Wow." He took another gulp of his tea before replying, "Congratulations to them both."
Hermione patted Harry on the hand. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Harry's voice was a little more high-pitched than he'd intended. "Honestly, this is great. We're long overdue some good news. Tell them I wished them all the best."
"There'll be a party at The Burrow," said Ron. "You'll come, yeah?"
"Of course, I will," Harry promised. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Ron looked relieved. "Brilliant, 'cause Ginny would love to see you. It's been ages. I'll keep you posted on dates and times. We'll have your birthday party to celebrate first, mind."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," Harry rebutted. "I've never been one to celebrate my birthday anyway."
"Too late," said Ron heartily. "Mum's already started organising it. You know better than to argue with her."
After they finished their drinks, Ron and Hermione got to their feet. Hermione rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Are you sure that you're alright?" she asked.
"Honestly, I'm fine," he assured them. And to his own surprise, he was. "Really, I'm happy for her. Thanks for letting me know in advance, I'm fed up finding things out through The Prophet."
"Yeah, they're no better than they were before the war," said Ron. "They write some amount of rubbish just to fill column inches."
"And people are stupid enough to believe their nonsense," said Hermione hotly before shaking her head. "Anyway, we better get going. We'll let you and Malfoy enjoy your breakfast in peace."
"You guys can stay for breakfast too, if you'd like?" Harry offered. "It's no trouble."
"Nah, we've had ours already," Ron reentered the living room and waved at Draco before stepping into the fireplace. "See you later, Malfoy."
Draco waved lazily at Ron before turning his attention to Hermione. "Granger! Before you leave, may I have a word with you?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Alright. What's the matter?"
Draco glanced at Ron. "A private one."
Ron and Hermione frowned at each other. Hermione, however, seemed intrigued and nodded. "Okay. Ron, you go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a minute."
Ron stepped back into the fireplace. "I'm only a floo call away if you need me."
In a burst of green flames, Ron vanished from the fireplace. Harry grabbed Draco's empty mug from the coffee table and hurried back into the kitchen to give Draco and Hermione privacy. Hermione took a seat on the winged armchair by the fire while Draco sat upright on the couch. Hermione amused herself at the sight of the man, despite wearing nothing but boxers burn salve, he had the air of someone who was about to conduct a job interview. Draco's face was serious, and (to Hermione's surprise) a little nervous.
Draco cleared his throat. "I know that you and Weasley aren't happy about mine and Harry's friendship—"
"Is that what we're calling it?" said Hermione sarcastically.
Draco ignored the insinuation and continued, "Look, Harry and I have talked through a lot of our issues. During these discussions, your name came up once or twice...well, a few times." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat but he kept his gaze fixed on Hermione. "I was often... unkind to the three of you, for no other reason other than jealousy and spitefulness. But there are some things that should never be said, things I said to you on more than one occasion."
"When you called me a mudblood, for example?" she replied coolly.
Draco nodded. "I know that an apology will never be sufficient for the hurt I've caused you, but I wanted you to know that I am sorry."
Hermione looked stunned for a moment, then she frowned. Her hands were tight fists in her lap but her voice was low and even. "Why did you say it, Malfoy? If you didn't mean it, then why did you say it?"
"Because I did mean it," he admitted. "At the time, I did. I said it because it was what I thought would hurt you the most. Because in truth, I was... jealous of you. You were top in all of our classes, and despite my every effort to beat you, I never could. My father was furious that a Muggleborn witch should best his son in everything. He blamed me, said I wasn't trying hard enough. And I blamed you, because it was easier to hate you than to hate my father."
"And now?" she asked. "What do you think now?"
"I realise that I know as much now as I did when I was twelve," said Draco. "That is to say that I know very little. But what I do know is this— from what Harry's told me, he would have died a hundred times over if it weren't for you. So for that, I'm glad that you were there, and that you still are. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be sitting here now. I'd probably be dead too. Or worse. So thank you for being there for Harry. For keeping him alive."
Hermione stared fixedly at Draco, her eyes wide and glassy. Finally, she nodded and said, "Alright, you've said your piece, and now I'll say mine."
Draco braced himself for the barrage of cutting remarks.
Hermione drew him a fierce look and said, "Don't hurt him."
Draco blinked. "Sorry?"
"Whatever this thing is going on between you and Harry, I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy about it. But Harry's his own person, so how he lives his life and who he chooses to spend his time with is up to him. But he's been through enough pain and loss in his life without you adding any more to it. So I'm warning you Malfoy, for your own sake, don't hurt him. Or you'll regret it. Understood?"
Hermione's voice had a dangerous edge to it that sent a small chill up Draco's spine. And how the hell did she know? What was there to know? There had only been what had happened last night and he and Harry hadn't even talked about it yet. Keen to end the conversation as quickly as possible he just nodded. Hermione rose to her feet and threw floo powder into the fireplace. She looked like she was desperate to leave as quickly as possible, but before she left she turned to Draco.
"I'm sorry, Draco," she said politely. "About your father. I know that you loved him very much."
Draco watched Hermione disappear into the flames. Hearing the roar of the fire, Harry came back into the living room and sat next to Draco on the couch.
"Is everything alright?" he asked.
Draco nodded. "Fine. I'm just giving Granger that long-overdue apology we talked about. She didn't hex me, so it went better than I expected it to."
"Well, that's a relief. It would've been a bit awkward having to shield you every time you're in each other's company," Harry's eyes fell and he stared fixedly at Draco's knee. "So... last night."
"Yeah...that wasn't how I thought the night would go, if I'm honest. Barry White has a lot to answer for."
Harry laughed nervously and looked cautiously at Draco. "Have you ever been with another guy before last night?"
Draco shook his head. "You?"
Harry turned red. "I haven't been with anyone."
Draco's eyes widened with surprise. "Really? I thought you and Cho... or Ginny at least."
Harry shook his head. "We never took things that far. Mostly, we just kissed."
"Merlin, you'd think at least one of the perks of being the Chosen One would be having people tripping over themselves to sleep with you."
Joking aside, Draco was privately pleased to hear that they were equally inexperienced. They were doing this together, both new and unsure— he rather liked that idea.
Harry huffed out a derisive laugh. "If anything it had the opposite effect. Being around someone in constant peril isn't a turn-on for most people."
"Well, if that was your first time doing anything with another person, you've certainly got a natural talent for it," said Draco with a sultry note in his voice.
Harry immediately felt light-headed with arousal, hyperaware of the heat of Draco's body pressed against his side.
"Anything I have done, I've just done to myself," he admitted.
Draco's eyes were fixed on Harry's lips. Draco leaned towards him and put his arm around the back of Harry's head, moving his mouth closer to Harry's ear to whisper, "Oh? Like what?"
Pausing for a moment before he spoke, Harry felt Draco's warm breath wash over his skin. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. "Touch myself."
"Where?" asked Draco, his voice deep and gravelly. "Tell me where you like to touch yourself."
"My cock. My nipples," breathed Harry. "And sometimes I like to finger myself."
Draco's breath inclined sharply. "Tell me how it feels when you do that."
Harry gripped his own thighs tightly and he swallowed hard. "Good. It feels tight but good. I like to imagine it's someone else doing it to me, that it's someone else's hand fucking me."
Draco gave a low groan and Harry felt Draco's fingers ever-so-gently graze his thigh, testing the waters. They really should talk about this— what they ought to do, if anything —but Draco was already making his intentions clear. Harry moved a shaky hand towards Draco's, carefully lacing their fingers together.
"I don't know what I'm doing," said Harry softly, inclining his head towards Draco's wet lips.
Draco's eyes became clouded. This close, they were sharing the same breath and Draco felt the same thrill of arousal from last night rush through his blood again.
"Me neither," he admitted.
Draco leaned in to meet Harry halfway and suddenly Harry's lips were pressed firmly against his own. The world seemed to lurch then, spinning out of control as their tentative kiss became more heated, more desperate. Draco slid his hand down Harry's back and cupped the swell of his arse before pulling him closer. As though magnetised, Harry's body pressed flush against Draco's, arms circling and closing around Draco's body. Draco threaded his fingers through the tangle of Harry's hair, caressing it, tugging it, making his head tilt to the side to deepen the kiss.
This time Draco straddled Harry's hips and began to carefully unfasten the buttons of Harry's shirt, splaying his fingers through the soft material and parting it to expose an expanse of smooth, tanned skin. Draco could feel the heat of Harry's skin radiate off of him onto his palms as he slid the shirt off of Harry's lean back and then tossed the fabric onto the floor. He traced a finger down the contours of Harry's chest towards the waistband of his trousers. He unzipped the fly of the trousers and Harry arched his back, sliding them down his slim, angular hips. Draco's eyes widened and Harry smirked.
"No underwear," breathed Draco.
Harry gasped as Draco's hand grasped firmly around his cock. He swiped a thumb over the head and felt his body jerk, his legs trembling a little, his body taut, right on the edge. Releasing Harry from his grasp, Draco kneeled before him, teasingly running his hands down over his thighs before pulling Harry's jeans off completely. Harry was struggling to breathe at the sight before him— Draco on his knees between his legs with his face inches from his erect cock, licking his lips, his eyes full of want. Draco's breath ghosted over Harry's cock and he couldn't help but shiver at the sensation. Draco ran his delicate, pale hands slowly up Harry's inner thighs, wordlessly coaxing him to move his legs further apart. Harry obeyed, splaying his legs as he put himself on full display for Draco. He felt very exposed, but the wanton expression on Draco's face made his cock ache, so he spread his legs even wider.
Draco pulled out his wand, murmured a lubrication spell, and carefully ran a slick finger around Harry's puckered ring. Harry gasped and shivered, but kept his legs wide open. Draco resumed stroking Harry's cock with one hand, teasing Harry's hole with the other until it loosened enough for his thumb to slip past the ring of muscles. Harry hissed and rolled his hips, and Draco pushed in a little further, carefully sliding his digit in and out. Harry closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the couch. His chest heaved, and his face was flush with patches of pink. The delectable sight made Draco's cock ache.
Draco pulled his thumb out and replaced it with his middle finger, gliding it in and out easily through the wetness he'd put there. Harry keened but stayed still, desperately clenching the fabric of the couch.
"Does that feel good?" asked Draco.
Harry moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips down, encouraging Draco to push in further. Draco began to gently experiment, twisting his finger in different directions until he grazed something that made Harry yelp.
Draco stopped moving and looked up in panic. "Are you okay?"
"Fuck yes," Harry breathed. "Do that again."
Draco grinned and tried to find the same spot as before. His finger grazed something smooth, the size of a walnut, and Harry groaned louder, bucking more wildly.
"Keep doing that?" asked Draco.
"Yes, oh god yes, mmm..."
Loving the slight stretch but needing more Harry began rolling his hips more insistently. Draco complied by carefully inserting another finger. Harry was panting faster and a light sheen of sweat was glistening on his sun-kissed skin.
"You're doing so good, baby," Draco breathed, gently kissing the inside of Harry's thigh.
Draco built up a steady rhythm with two fingers, applying more lube to ease the friction. Harry gasped and moaned beautifully each time Draco brushed deliberately across the sensitive little nub of nerves that was his prostate. Draco made sure to give it a firm rub on every third or fourth stroke, keeping Harry on the very edge of orgasm.
"Draco," Harry sobbed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. "I'm coming, I'm coming."
Draco leant forward and engulfed Harry's cock in his mouth, sucking hard. He felt Harry's back arch as he screamed, his orgasm ripping through his body as his hips shook and bucked wildly. Draco swallowed hungrily, his eyes fixed on Harry's face who was gasping and moaning incoherently. Draco continued to pump his fingers in and out of Harry, slowing down as Harry's body first loosened and then began to tremble. He planted another wet kiss on the inside of Harry's thigh and looked up at him. Harry was naked, panting, utterly spent, and it was the sexiest thing Draco had ever seen.
Harry ran a hand through Draco's hair and gave a lopsided smile. "Your turn."
Harry slid off of the couch and onto the floor, hooking his fingers under the waistband of Draco's boxers then paused. I'm alright to... you know. After the incident with the tea this morning."
Draco laughed. "I'm fine."
Harry smiled and slid the boxers off before gently pushing Draco to lie on his back. Draco propped himself up on his elbows to watch Harry get himself in a comfortable position between his legs. He ran his hands up the inside of Draco's thighs towards his groin, gently cupping Draco's balls and massaging them with his thumb. Harry, his eyes fixed on Draco's, pressed a worshipful kiss to the sensitive tip.
Draco's breath hitched at the sensation, enraptured by the sight of the Boy Who Lived, his childhood nemesis, taking Draco's cock into his hot, wet mouth. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined such a thing, yet here he was.
Draco reached out and traced the outline of Harry's jaw with his hand, letting his fingers brush over Harry's plump, bruised lips. Harry sucked gently on Draco's thumb before moving lower, dragging the flat of his tongue over Draco's hot shaft. Draco watched in awe as Harry swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, stopping to lap at the slit then take his full length back into his mouth, sucking hard. Draco combed back Harry's damp hair with his fingers, cupping his head and gently rolling his hips up into Harry's mouth, moaning and panting as he grew ever closer to climax.
Draco's breathing quickened, his pale chest rising and falling rapidly, and Harry knew he must be close. He grabbed Draco's arse and thrust his hips upwards, taking him deeper into his mouth, sucking and sliding his mouth over Draco's cock as fast as he could. Draco gave a sharp groan and his body stiffened. Harry braced himself and greedily swallowed down Draco's cum as his orgasm rippled through his body. Harry lapped up the last remnants of cum that hadn't made it down his throat with his tongue like it was sweet nectar. Harry looked up into Draco's smoky grey eyes and gave him a playful smile before licking his now swollen and red lips. He had done this, shattered Draco's mask of indifference and made his beautiful, pale features rosy and debauched. It was a sight to behold, one he wanted to see over and over again. He crawled up Draco's body and planted a wet kiss on Draco's mouth, feeling him smiling as he returned the kiss with the same amount of enthusiasm.
***
"We really should talk about this," Harry asserted.
"About what?" asked Draco nonchalantly.
They lay next to each other in the tangled mess of sheets in Harry's bedroom, having moved their activities from the living room to more comfortable surroundings. Draco was tracing a finger up and down the ripples of Harry's abdomen. It was a little ticklish but it felt too nice to ask him to desist.
"Whatever it is that we're doing."
"It's called shagging, Potter," drawled Draco.
Harry gently slapped his hand. "Don't call me that."
"Sorry," Draco smiled. "It's called shagging, Harry."
"You know what I mean. Are we...are we going to keep doing this?"
"Do you enjoy doing this?" asked Draco looking up into Harry's eyes.
"Yes," said Harry gently stroking Draco's hair. "Very much."
Draco smirked, pleased. "Well, so do I. I don't see why we shouldn't continue."
"Okay, good," said Harry, the bubble of warmth in the centre of his chest seemed to expand tenfold. "So what do we say to the others?"
"Others?"
"You know, Andromeda, Ron, Hermione..." The press , he thought, his stomach sinking.
Draco groaned. "Harry, for once in your life, stop worrying about what everyone else thinks! Whatever this is between us, we should be able to go at our own pace and figure out what's going on. It's no one else's business, is it? We're adults, we answer to no man, we can do whatever the hell we like."
Harry relaxed into the bed. "You're right."
"I know," Draco grabbed Harry's hand and pressed an affectionate kiss to his palm.