HP: Alliances 7
Draco was nervous. What if he was rubbish and Harry didn't want him afterwards? What if it didn't work? Would Harry be disappointed with him? What if he got all his memories back right in the middle of things and threw up all over his lover? What if he wasn't like the old Draco in bed and it made Harry morose? He wanted to be perfect for Harry and wanted to make Harry glad that he hadn't dumped Draco. But all his thoughts made him more worried. They had gone back up to the tower and Harry had been kissing his neck in a comforting way for the whole trip.
Pulling away Draco spoke softly, "I want to go take a shower: clean off the grime of the day."
"Ok," Harry smiled. Draco had taken a bath after supper but he wasn't going to push him into anything. "I'll take one too."
The Head Boy's toilet was even nicer than the prefects' loo. The bathtub was sunk into the floor and had steps leading down into it, its depth ranged from a foot to 12 feet with a diving board at the deep end. The two showers each had 10 showerheads and were capable of spraying six different types of foamy water at the bather from practically every angle. Harry turned his back as they undressed to allow Draco some privacy. The slight gasp he heard made him want to turn around but he dutifully kept his back to the blond boy.
"Draco, you look fine," said the mirror, "Draco," it called again, "No one cares."
Draco looked into the mirror with confusion as Harry moved to look at the boy, "What's wrong?"
The blond ran his hands over his skin, "I don't remember these. Are they new? God, they're so ugly. I’m so glad I haven’t seen myself naked before. How can you want me?"
Scars stood out even paler than his naturally pallid flesh. Harry ran a hand over the boy's shoulder. He traced a scar with his fingers. After a battle the mediwizards and witches were busy, Draco was told he would have to wait; people were in worse condition than him. But Harry could tell the boy was badly off so he'd apparated to a muggle doctor who had promptly drawn blood off the boy's lungs and opened him up to pin his badly broken clavicle, it had been a miracle that he hadn't drowned in his own blood. It had been the first of his many health miracles. "You're beautiful and strong."
Staring at the mirror Draco muttered, "Strongly disgusting."
Harry studied him for a moment and then dropped down to his knees in front of the blond. Slowly, he mapped out the marks on his lover's stomach with his tongue. "Never disgusting," he promised, "just tasty and good." He paused over an old puncture mark on Draco's left hip and licked it so, so slowly, "That's my favourite."
"Why?" Draco asked, awed and panting at Harry's show.
"I put it there." Standing, he pointed to an identical scar on his own left hip. "We stabbed each other to throw off Voldemort. And then we patched each other up, came back here, and you made love to me for hours. It was brilliant. It was painful, and amazing, and we each lost close to a pint of blood. It was hot."
"You liked being stabbed," said Draco in a disbelieving voice.
"Only because it was you doing the stabbing," justified Harry, as though that somehow made it normal.
"We lost a pint of blood each but we still had sex?"
"You're insatiable," Harry laughed "And then we just stayed awake for the rest of the night while you bitched about how much pain you were in and I tried to tell you that it was a flesh wound." He smiled, "You're a total wuss about pain."
Draco smiled, "Yeah, I read in my diary about the hippogriff. But I milked that because I wanted to get kicked out of school. I hated it here, having to deal with you and your two friends. And then they nearly killed the thing."
"Yeah, Ron, Hermione, and me sort of set it loose."
"You did?" Draco laughed, "Those are your friends? I just wrote about "the trio" a lot, are they nice?"
Harry smiled slightly, "Well, 'Mione died, but she was great. And Ron, well, we're not really friends anymore."
Hearing the edge in his lover's voice Draco said, "Because of me? You shouldn't lose friends because of me."
"He gloated about your coma and practically went into mourning when you woke up. He's not my friend."
Draco watched as the boy folded into himself, "Does he know about us?"
"No," Harry shook his head, "Blaise is the only student who does. You wouldn't have been safe."
Draco studied him again and realized that the dark boy's body was as marred as his own, "What happened to you?" he asked as he ran his fingers over what looked like bad rope burn.
Smiling a little Harry said, "My uncle, your father, Voldemort. Lots of people wanted to have a go."
"Are my scars like that?"
"No," Harry sniffed and somehow Draco knew he was about to hear a joke, "My uncle's never touched you."
The blond asked gently, almost pleading, not wanting to face what he was being told, "Take me to bed?"
"Don't you want a shower?"
"Take me to bed."
Smiling, Harry dragged the boy towards the door as he kissed his pale wrist, "Beautiful." The bedroom was lit with hundreds of candles, behold the power of magic. Draco took in the sight for a moment and then proceeded to drag Harry towards the bed. "Missed you so badly," whispered the mage, "missed you inside of me."
Draco wondered if Harry had ever had him. Somehow, from reading his journal, he doubted it. He would never have trusted anyone to have that much control over him. But he wanted to give Harry that power. He trusted Harry completely, more than anyone he'd been reintroduced to since his coma. Now, however, was not the time for that. Pushing Harry on to the bed he asked, "Sure about this?"
Harry nodded and took Draco's shaking hands in his own. "I'm right here with you, Co, nothing's gonna go wrong." He pulled the boy onto the bed with him and the curtains closed around them with only a soft whisper from Harry, "Got to love wandless magic," he smirked. With a wandless cast Draco instantly prepared the dark boy. Harry gasped softly and wriggled beneath him, "You kept all that magic up there, didn't you?" He tapped his fingers on the blond's forehead.
"All of it," promised Draco with a gentle leer as he slowly slid inside the slight young man. Harry shut his eyes tightly but a tear escaped from under his lid even as he locked his ankles around Draco's waist. "Are you ok?"
"Fine."
"No, really, am I hurting you?"
"No,"
"Harry-"
"Just happy, ok?" he opened his eyes looking horribly embarrassed as he added, "I thought I lost you." He closed his eyes again.
Moving slowly and kissing the dark boy's eyelids Draco said, "You're absolutely stunning." Harry's eyes flew open and he looked shocked and pleased. And in that moment Draco almost didn't want his memories back. Because, without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that the old Draco had never said those words. He wanted to kill those memories and worship Harry; make him perfectly happy. What if he got the memories back and learned that Harry had just been a convenient fuck? What if, on top of never saying the words, he had never thought them? But then he thought of Harry's dream and he realized how badly he needed them.
"They'll never come if you force it," Harry's voice broke into his thoughts, "just enjoy this."
"Sorry," Draco smiled apologetically as Harry pulled him closer. Blunt nails bit into his back as they sped up a little.
"It's natural," said Harry as Draco attacked his collarbone, "oh Gods." He gasped and Draco doubled his efforts as he kissed, licked, and nipped any part of Harry that wasn't his mouth: He knew the rules. And when they came one after another it was wonderful and terrible all at once. It was like a little death, but not in the French sense. For, while Draco felt amazing and like he was coming home, he still didn't remember the dark boy. When Harry saw the disappointment in Draco's face he misread it, "It's been months, neither of us were bound to last long."
Frustrated, Draco shook his head, "No, Harry, it didn't work."
Biting his lip the boy studied him for a moment. "It was never a definite," he said cradling Draco's face. Draco saw the blood under Harry's nails. It acted as embarrassing proof as to what they'd done, more so even than the fact that he was still buried in the mage. He tried to look away but Harry held his face and held eye contact as he spoke, "We just need to come at it from another angle."
"Like from behind?" Draco joked weakly
Shaking his head Harry said, "Sex is out, this was all working off of the shock for an epiphany system. Which means," he leaned up a little, "I can do this." He kissed Draco full on the mouth, lovingly and slowly.
Draco pulled away from him slowly. Standing he said, "I want them back now. I don't want to wait things out and see. There's one thing left to do. I'm going to go find Madame Pomfrey."
"It's four AM. Come back here. It can wait another two hours."
Draco was frustrated, but not angry, as Harry's insensate words grated him. "Did he used to stay with you? Him, the other me," he asked sarcastically.
Ignoring the tone, Harry acted as though it were a normal question. "It was the only part of sex that you actually let me have any control over. You said I was a total poof for wanting it but you always let me hold you."
"That is kinda poofish," agreed Draco as he clambered back into bed.
Harry rested his head on the boy's chest. "Just get a little sleep," said Harry as Draco pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of green eyes. Harry smiled at him.
"What?" asked Draco.
"I'm glad you're safe. I was scared. They wouldn't let me come to you at the hospital, they said it was too dangerous, that I would have been putting you in harm's way. That the death eaters wouldn't care about the presence of aurors when faced with the chance of getting us both. So I stayed away. And I was so scared that I was going to see you in a coffin the next time we met." He kissed the pale shoulder his head was resting on. "I swear I'll stop being a poof. Just gimme a minute."
"Take your time," said Draco happily as he stroked Harry's hair. "I think I kinda like this poof thing of yours," he said before he drifted off.
Next
Pulling away Draco spoke softly, "I want to go take a shower: clean off the grime of the day."
"Ok," Harry smiled. Draco had taken a bath after supper but he wasn't going to push him into anything. "I'll take one too."
The Head Boy's toilet was even nicer than the prefects' loo. The bathtub was sunk into the floor and had steps leading down into it, its depth ranged from a foot to 12 feet with a diving board at the deep end. The two showers each had 10 showerheads and were capable of spraying six different types of foamy water at the bather from practically every angle. Harry turned his back as they undressed to allow Draco some privacy. The slight gasp he heard made him want to turn around but he dutifully kept his back to the blond boy.
"Draco, you look fine," said the mirror, "Draco," it called again, "No one cares."
Draco looked into the mirror with confusion as Harry moved to look at the boy, "What's wrong?"
The blond ran his hands over his skin, "I don't remember these. Are they new? God, they're so ugly. I’m so glad I haven’t seen myself naked before. How can you want me?"
Scars stood out even paler than his naturally pallid flesh. Harry ran a hand over the boy's shoulder. He traced a scar with his fingers. After a battle the mediwizards and witches were busy, Draco was told he would have to wait; people were in worse condition than him. But Harry could tell the boy was badly off so he'd apparated to a muggle doctor who had promptly drawn blood off the boy's lungs and opened him up to pin his badly broken clavicle, it had been a miracle that he hadn't drowned in his own blood. It had been the first of his many health miracles. "You're beautiful and strong."
Staring at the mirror Draco muttered, "Strongly disgusting."
Harry studied him for a moment and then dropped down to his knees in front of the blond. Slowly, he mapped out the marks on his lover's stomach with his tongue. "Never disgusting," he promised, "just tasty and good." He paused over an old puncture mark on Draco's left hip and licked it so, so slowly, "That's my favourite."
"Why?" Draco asked, awed and panting at Harry's show.
"I put it there." Standing, he pointed to an identical scar on his own left hip. "We stabbed each other to throw off Voldemort. And then we patched each other up, came back here, and you made love to me for hours. It was brilliant. It was painful, and amazing, and we each lost close to a pint of blood. It was hot."
"You liked being stabbed," said Draco in a disbelieving voice.
"Only because it was you doing the stabbing," justified Harry, as though that somehow made it normal.
"We lost a pint of blood each but we still had sex?"
"You're insatiable," Harry laughed "And then we just stayed awake for the rest of the night while you bitched about how much pain you were in and I tried to tell you that it was a flesh wound." He smiled, "You're a total wuss about pain."
Draco smiled, "Yeah, I read in my diary about the hippogriff. But I milked that because I wanted to get kicked out of school. I hated it here, having to deal with you and your two friends. And then they nearly killed the thing."
"Yeah, Ron, Hermione, and me sort of set it loose."
"You did?" Draco laughed, "Those are your friends? I just wrote about "the trio" a lot, are they nice?"
Harry smiled slightly, "Well, 'Mione died, but she was great. And Ron, well, we're not really friends anymore."
Hearing the edge in his lover's voice Draco said, "Because of me? You shouldn't lose friends because of me."
"He gloated about your coma and practically went into mourning when you woke up. He's not my friend."
Draco watched as the boy folded into himself, "Does he know about us?"
"No," Harry shook his head, "Blaise is the only student who does. You wouldn't have been safe."
Draco studied him again and realized that the dark boy's body was as marred as his own, "What happened to you?" he asked as he ran his fingers over what looked like bad rope burn.
Smiling a little Harry said, "My uncle, your father, Voldemort. Lots of people wanted to have a go."
"Are my scars like that?"
"No," Harry sniffed and somehow Draco knew he was about to hear a joke, "My uncle's never touched you."
The blond asked gently, almost pleading, not wanting to face what he was being told, "Take me to bed?"
"Don't you want a shower?"
"Take me to bed."
Smiling, Harry dragged the boy towards the door as he kissed his pale wrist, "Beautiful." The bedroom was lit with hundreds of candles, behold the power of magic. Draco took in the sight for a moment and then proceeded to drag Harry towards the bed. "Missed you so badly," whispered the mage, "missed you inside of me."
Draco wondered if Harry had ever had him. Somehow, from reading his journal, he doubted it. He would never have trusted anyone to have that much control over him. But he wanted to give Harry that power. He trusted Harry completely, more than anyone he'd been reintroduced to since his coma. Now, however, was not the time for that. Pushing Harry on to the bed he asked, "Sure about this?"
Harry nodded and took Draco's shaking hands in his own. "I'm right here with you, Co, nothing's gonna go wrong." He pulled the boy onto the bed with him and the curtains closed around them with only a soft whisper from Harry, "Got to love wandless magic," he smirked. With a wandless cast Draco instantly prepared the dark boy. Harry gasped softly and wriggled beneath him, "You kept all that magic up there, didn't you?" He tapped his fingers on the blond's forehead.
"All of it," promised Draco with a gentle leer as he slowly slid inside the slight young man. Harry shut his eyes tightly but a tear escaped from under his lid even as he locked his ankles around Draco's waist. "Are you ok?"
"Fine."
"No, really, am I hurting you?"
"No,"
"Harry-"
"Just happy, ok?" he opened his eyes looking horribly embarrassed as he added, "I thought I lost you." He closed his eyes again.
Moving slowly and kissing the dark boy's eyelids Draco said, "You're absolutely stunning." Harry's eyes flew open and he looked shocked and pleased. And in that moment Draco almost didn't want his memories back. Because, without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that the old Draco had never said those words. He wanted to kill those memories and worship Harry; make him perfectly happy. What if he got the memories back and learned that Harry had just been a convenient fuck? What if, on top of never saying the words, he had never thought them? But then he thought of Harry's dream and he realized how badly he needed them.
"They'll never come if you force it," Harry's voice broke into his thoughts, "just enjoy this."
"Sorry," Draco smiled apologetically as Harry pulled him closer. Blunt nails bit into his back as they sped up a little.
"It's natural," said Harry as Draco attacked his collarbone, "oh Gods." He gasped and Draco doubled his efforts as he kissed, licked, and nipped any part of Harry that wasn't his mouth: He knew the rules. And when they came one after another it was wonderful and terrible all at once. It was like a little death, but not in the French sense. For, while Draco felt amazing and like he was coming home, he still didn't remember the dark boy. When Harry saw the disappointment in Draco's face he misread it, "It's been months, neither of us were bound to last long."
Frustrated, Draco shook his head, "No, Harry, it didn't work."
Biting his lip the boy studied him for a moment. "It was never a definite," he said cradling Draco's face. Draco saw the blood under Harry's nails. It acted as embarrassing proof as to what they'd done, more so even than the fact that he was still buried in the mage. He tried to look away but Harry held his face and held eye contact as he spoke, "We just need to come at it from another angle."
"Like from behind?" Draco joked weakly
Shaking his head Harry said, "Sex is out, this was all working off of the shock for an epiphany system. Which means," he leaned up a little, "I can do this." He kissed Draco full on the mouth, lovingly and slowly.
Draco pulled away from him slowly. Standing he said, "I want them back now. I don't want to wait things out and see. There's one thing left to do. I'm going to go find Madame Pomfrey."
"It's four AM. Come back here. It can wait another two hours."
Draco was frustrated, but not angry, as Harry's insensate words grated him. "Did he used to stay with you? Him, the other me," he asked sarcastically.
Ignoring the tone, Harry acted as though it were a normal question. "It was the only part of sex that you actually let me have any control over. You said I was a total poof for wanting it but you always let me hold you."
"That is kinda poofish," agreed Draco as he clambered back into bed.
Harry rested his head on the boy's chest. "Just get a little sleep," said Harry as Draco pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of green eyes. Harry smiled at him.
"What?" asked Draco.
"I'm glad you're safe. I was scared. They wouldn't let me come to you at the hospital, they said it was too dangerous, that I would have been putting you in harm's way. That the death eaters wouldn't care about the presence of aurors when faced with the chance of getting us both. So I stayed away. And I was so scared that I was going to see you in a coffin the next time we met." He kissed the pale shoulder his head was resting on. "I swear I'll stop being a poof. Just gimme a minute."
"Take your time," said Draco happily as he stroked Harry's hair. "I think I kinda like this poof thing of yours," he said before he drifted off.
Next