When Malfoy shifted as if to move off the bed, Harry's instinctive reaction was to tighten his loose embrace and not let his bed partner go. Surprisingly that caused Malfoy to laugh.
"I have to use the loo," he said and gently, but firmly moved Harry's arm.
It was another one of those moments when Harry was sharply aware that if he insisted in his position, his companion would have no choice but to conform. Yet, found himself letting Malfoy have his way, even though his reasoning in the situation had nothing to do with logic. Watching his lover climb off the bed and saunter towards the bathroom in all his naked glory gave Harry a nice view, but that wasn't why he let it happen either. It was almost as if Malfoy had a get out of jail free card, which the darker part of Harry found strangely disturbing and the human part couldn't quite understand.
"You should think about getting up as well," his companion said as he disappeared into the bathroom, "it is only lunch time after all."
At this, one little voice in his head told the world to go shove its rationality, another pointed out that during the day was a perfect time to be sleeping, and a third looked at the discarded books on the table and agreed that possibly Malfoy had a point. They had been lying around for a good half an hour since their rather satisfying tryst and Harry slowly stretched and climbed off the bed. The shirt he was still partially wearing was crumpled and a little on the sticky side, so he pulled it off and threw it at the basket in the corner.
He looked at the door of the bathroom and considered invading it as well since he wanted to be clean, but then turned and walked to the desk, leaving Malfoy to his ablutions alone. Picking up his trousers and his underwear he laid them over the back of the chair before aimlessly glancing at the book he had discarded when his companion arrived.
The illustration on the open page was of a banshee mid wail, forever caught crying her grief to the world. It was a mournful picture that filled him with a strange melancholy. They had briefly studied banshees last year in DADA. About the only thing that had been important at the time was to avoid the creatures and cast a silencing charm at the first opportunity if faced with one about to open her mouth.
Now he found that the creatures' fate to scream their pain was much more important to him. He ran a finger over the moving picture, wondering at how little the Wizarding world really understood about magical creatures. When he finally moved, he turned and found Malfoy watching him from the doorway of the bathroom. His Slytherin had a very contemplative expression on his face. Harry could not help wondering what was going through Malfoy's mind.
"I never thought of you as someone who would be comfortable naked," Malfoy said eventually and wandered further into the room, looking around for his clothes.
Harry glanced down at himself and realised that he hadn't actually been thinking about it at all. He had thought about putting his clothes back on because the air in the room was slightly less warm than was comfortable without activity, but he really wasn't bothered otherwise. It occurred to him that this was quite odd considering the fact that he had not wanted to look at himself in the mirror. However, he could not explain quite a lot of his mind at the moment, so he didn't see why this should be any different.
"I wasn't," he admitted, and walked towards the bathroom.
He was sure he would end up analysing what he was feeling sooner or later. It was in his nature to brood, but right then he didn't feel like it, he simply wanted to be clean. He wandered into the smaller room and set about his immediate task, letting his mind drift away from serious thoughts as he became absorbed in what he was doing. Malfoy's curiosity could wait until later.
It was only as he stepped out of the bathroom again, clean to his own satisfaction that his thoughts clicked back on. They were suddenly focused on only one thing. Malfoy was slowly pulling on his clothes and the glimpses of pale flesh in graceful motion high-jacked every sentient impulse in Harry's body. Motor function kicked back in after a moment and he discarded the towel he was using to dry himself off in favour of putting his fingers to better use on his lover.
He walked up behind Malfoy as his Slytherin was pulling on his shirt. He found his hands moving without much conscious thought as he reached up and pulled the collar away from his companion's neck before Malfoy could begin to fasten any of the buttons. Running one finger down the pale skin he revealed, he continued to pull off the shirt with his other hand.
"You cannot still be hungry," Malfoy said, but did not pull his top back on.
"Wasn't hungry the last time," Harry said shortly, feeling the pull towards Malfoy nevertheless.
"You certainly felt like you were," was the response as Harry removed the shirt completely again, running his hands over his lover's arms.
"Not the hunger," he said almost absently as his eyes ran over pale shoulders and back, "I find you irresistible."
Something was trying to attract his attention, something which was speaking to his instincts, but not his higher brain and it was definitely to do with Malfoy. He had not realised that his words might have an impact on his companion until Malfoy turned and looked at him in quite a shocked manner.
"You are attracted to me without the hunger?" Malfoy sounded surprised and a little confused.
It occurred to Harry then that Malfoy seemed to have convinced himself that the only reason he was fixating on him was because of the incubus' needs. While the incubus definitely drove his sexual appetite, it was not only his instincts which were guiding him.
He didn't really understand it himself, after all, Malfoy had been his enemy for so long that any idea of an attraction between them which was not based on extreme circumstances, was quite strange. However, Harry could quite honestly say that his human nature was as attracted to Malfoy as his dark nature, a fact which, at one time, might have horrified him. Now it simply puzzled him.
Whether the uninhibited nature of the beast within had allowed him to realise something which had previously passed him by, or whether his human nature was adapting to cope with his new situation, he had no idea. He could not explain it to himself yet.
"Yes," he said simply and went back to what he was doing.
Malfoy was of course a Slytherin to his core and looked shocked at Harry's revelation. While Harry could have mused on the situation longer, instead he walked behind his Slytherin and took the opportunity to move in close, pressing his bare chest against Malfoy's naked back. He smiled into his lover's hair as he ran his hands down Malfoy's arms again, encircling the Slytherin's wrists with his fingers and nuzzling at the beautiful long neck.
Malfoy was motionless under his attentions, he did not resist, but neither did he encourage, but Harry was too wrapped up in the feeling of what he was doing to take much notice.
Lifting Malfoy's left arm, he brought his lover's wrist to eye level, his gaze running along the pale, elegant limb. It was inevitable that his attention would end up resting on the Dark Mark; black ugly lines etched onto alabaster skin, stating a claim even after death.
"He is not yours," Harry whispered as if Voldemort could still hear him, "he is mine."
The feeling of possession was all encompassing. Hatred of the reminder of the Dark Lord flared in Harry's chest. Before he could consciously decide what he was going to do, he moved around his human once more and with a swift step he shifted them both across the room until Malfoy was pushed up against the wall. Harry pinned his lover there, left arm stretched out against the stone surface with his hand covering the offending mark.
"Never his," he said low in his throat, totally fixated on that one thought.
"Never his," Malfoy repeated, grey eyes looking directing into Harry's.
"Mine," Harry said firmly.
Malfoy did not reply this time, but neither did he flinch, nor look away. When Harry crushed his lips to his lover's, Malfoy responded immediately, and his mouth opened to be claimed by Harry's tongue.
'Mine': the word continued to repeat in Harry's mind like a mantra, consuming every other thought in its wake, demanding the universe acknowledge that it was true. He was so lost in the rhythm of the mental sound and the sweet taste of his lover's mouth, he did not feel the power building in him until is spilled out of his body.
The kiss broke the moment the magic burst its bonds. Malfoy's head went back to rest against the wall with a sound somewhere between a moan of ecstasy and a cry of pain. Their bodies were pushed together, and Harry held firm as Malfoy writhed against him. At that moment he was as incapable of moving as Malfoy was to stop reacting.
The power flooded out of him and into his lover as the mantra repeated over and over in his mind. Voldemort would retain no part of what was his.
When the magic finally ran dry, Harry slumped forward against his now panting partner, resting his head on his lover's shoulder as his human did the same to him. Only the friction of the wall prevented them both sliding towards the ground. For long seconds they remained in that position, leaning against each other with the stone stopping them falling to the floor. Harry was not sure how to describe this latest experience, but he definitely felt as if he had been through a marathon session of something.
"I think I'd like to sit down," were Draco's quiet words, which finally drew Harry out of his daze.
He forced himself to stand up properly in response.
Grey eyes were looking at him in a rather dazed fashion, but slowly both their gazes moved to where Harry's hand was still covering Draco's arm. Almost as if he might see something terrible Harry tentatively uncurled his fingers and reluctantly pulled back his limb. A rather shocked gasp was the only reaction from Draco at first, as the pale limb was drawn in and examined.
"Draco, I..." and then Harry stopped as he realised what he had said.
The startled look on Draco's features as he glanced up was even more shocked than before. It was then that Harry realised that not only had he changed Draco's Dark Mark so that only the snake remained, curled gently around itself rather than sliding from a skull's mouth, but also something fundamental had shifted inside his head. Where before there had been Malfoy, his human, there was Draco; still his, but much more a person than simply the Prince of Slytherin. Malfoy was his lover, Draco had the possibility of being far more.
"What do you want from me?" Draco did not seem to be able to comprehend what was going on.
Harry stepped up to his Slytherin again and ran his fingers lightly over the new mark.
"A friend," he said quietly.
~*~
Sitting propped up on the bed with a book in his lap and his foot pressed up against the warmth of Draco's side, Harry felt almost content. Draco was lying on his front reading a school textbook, and Harry found the way his lover scrunched up his forehead when he concentrated adorable. The fact that Draco still hadn't done his shirt up and hence, every time he moved, gave Harry glimpses of pale flesh, was an added bonus as well.
"Were you supposed to be anywhere this afternoon?" he asked eventually as it occurred to him that it was a Wednesday (it had been so mad since he had been kidnapped that it was hard to believe it had been under five days ago).
"No," Draco replied absently, lost in his reading, "Dumbledore gave me today to adjust back into the school routine. I start lessons tomorrow, well that is unless they call a national holiday or something, and then I have a make-up timetable from hell. It seems the headmaster wants me to pass my N.E.W.T.s even though I might be in Azkaban before I can take them."
A small growl sounded in the back of Harry's throat at that idea, and his companion finally looked up at him. The idea of anyone trying to take away his human, his Draco, set Harry completely on edge. He could not control the reaction. It occurred to him that the calming field did not appear to be working, but he could not care less as he concentrated on his lover.
"You never belonged to him," he said in a dangerously low tone, "and you never did anything."
Draco glanced down at the black snake on his wrist as Harry spoke and it was clear he was remembering what had occurred over an hour earlier. Harry felt a little embarrassed by his actions, but also perfectly justified in taking them.