Chapter eight.
******
Harry was late getting to Sex Magic that day. As he sulked into the Room of Requirement, he noticed the sour expression on Mason's face and immediately dropped his gaze to his shoes. She shook her head and pointed to he and Malfoy's booth.
"In you go, Mr. Potter," she sighed. "He'll inform you of your instructions."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry mumbled, keeping his head down as he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside.
Malfoy sat tensely on the sofa, his knees pressed primly together and wringing his hands. He jumped when Harry entered, his face flickering through a myriad of swiftly concealed emotions. Harry ignored him and made his way over to the opposite end of the couch, slumping down onto it in a haphazard arrangement of limbs. Removing his glasses, he set them on the low table nearby and threw an arm over his eyes.
"Mason says you're supposed to tell me our assignment," he muttered, exhausted from lack of sleep.
"Er, yes," said Malfoy. "We're supposed to, um, do what we did last week... Only more."
"More?"
"Yes," answered Draco.
"What, exactly, does more entail?" asked Harry.
"Uh... The same thing, only in other places," he replied, clearly uncomfortable.
Harry sighed impatiently, not in the mood to deal with Malfoy's evasiveness. "Malfoy, just tell me what it is we're supposed to do."
"I already told you!" Draco said defensively.
"How about you just show me?" Harry muttered.
He hadn't truly realized what he'd said until he heard Malfoy's quiet "okay", and felt a warm pressure settle onto his lap. Jerking his arm away from his face so quickly that he almost hit the other boy, he stared incredulously up at Malfoy.
"What?" Malfoy protested, immediately attempting to back off. "You said-!"
"I know. It's okay," Harry told him, bringing his hands down to grasp Malfoy's hips. "You just startled me."
"Let go!" Draco ordered, pushing against Harry's hands.
"What? Why?" asked Harry, confused.
"I don't want to anymore!"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Will you just calm down?" he asked irritably, attempting to get a better hold on the squirming boy.
"I. Said. Let. Go!" Draco shouted, punctuating each word with a shove against Harry's chest.
"Ouch! Damn it, Malfoy!"
Grappling for control, Harry managed to ensnare Draco's hands in a firm grip and hauled them behind his back. Draco let out a very childish sound of frustration and reared back, his unsteady balance in Harry's lap and his own weight carrying him over the edge of the couch. Harry, his hands pulled helplessly along, followed with a startled grunt.
They hit the floor in an ungraceful, tangled sprawl. Harry's nose was smashed against the floor, his hands still caught underneath Malfoy. Draco groaned and shifted, attempting to maneuver around Harry's knuckles pressed into the small of his back.
"Here, lift up a bit," said Harry.
Draco did as asked, arching his back up off of the floor so that Harry could slide his hands out from underneath him. Harry pushed himself into a more comfortable position, turning his head so that his cheek lay against the cool floor.
"Thanks," he murmured.
His breath passed over Draco's ear and he felt the blond tense. Harry grinned, remembering the sensitivity of his partner's ears, and deliberately blew a soft stream of air over the lobe. Draco gasped.
"Get off," he ordered.
Harry chuckled and Draco squirmed, the sound vibrating warmly close to his ear. "That's for next week."
Draco's mouth dropped open. "You've been reading ahead in the lesson plan!" he accused.
"Yes," Harry agreed, leaning forward to nuzzle the hollow behind the other boy's ear.
Draco made a strangled mewling sound and brought his hands up to clutch at Harry's shoulders. Taking it as a cue that they were through with conversation, Harry put his mouth to other uses.
Planting soft, open-mouthed kisses over the firm skin of Malfoy's throat, he worked his way down to his collar and back up. When he reached the highly sensitive earlobe, he drew it into his mouth and ran his tongue over. Draco gasped loudly and shifted beneath him, his body jerking with each lap of Harry's tongue. Too pleased with the reaction he was getting out of his partner to stop, Harry added a gentle nip. Draco fairly writhed underneath him, his chest heaving with shaky, stuttering breaths.
"Potter..." he moaned.
Harry pulled away, catching a quick glimpse of Malfoy's flushed face before he closed his eyes and kissed him.
It wasn't like last time; no awkward mashing of lips. Malfoy hesitated momentarily, then he was kissing Harry back, drawing him closer and opening his mouth to draw in Harry's tongue.
Harry shifted on top of Malfoy so that he settled comfortably between his thighs. He gasped against the other boy's mouth at the feel of the hard line of an erection pressed into his hip. He couldn't blame Malfoy, he was halfway there himself.
Malfoy suddenly tore his mouth away from Harry's and latched it onto the side of his neck. Harry cried out in surprise at the feeling of something hot and slick pressed into his throat. If Malfoy lacked in finesse, Harry didn't mind. The Slytherin's mouth moved sloppily and without any pattern. He licked the line of Harry's collarbone, dipping into the hollow there and sucking hard. Harry moaned, fingers clawing at the ground on either side of Draco's head. Draco grinned against his shoulder and repeated the gesture in various spots all over Harry's neck, seeing which ones produced the strongest reactions. Harry endured it as long as he could before fisting a hand in Malfoy's hair and jerking his head away from his thoroughly laved neck.
Darkened gray eyes stared up at him, and the look in them was something that Harry had never seen before. Hatred, amusement, mocking disdain... Those were looks that he was used to getting from Malfoy. This wild, intense look of hunger and anticipation was new, and exciting.
Harry wrapped his other hand in the front of Draco's robes and tugged him up into a hard kiss. Draco's breath was hot against his cheek and his forehead was feverish and damp. Harry groaned and sank deeper into the pliant body beneath his, pressing the other boy into the floor. Malfoy whimpered harshly, jerking his hips upward. Harry understood, distantly, and pressed back against him.
His abdomen tightened as a spark of pleasure seared down his spine. He wrenched away from the kiss with an audible smacking sound, gasping in air as he rocked steadily against the warm body under him. Malfoy arched up rhythmically, making small, soft noises as he panted. The sound made Harry growl animalistically, and he buried his face in the crook of the blond's neck and shoulder and marked him with his teeth.
"That'll be enough, boys."
Professor Mason's cool voice filtered through the thick, hazy fog of Harry's consciousness. Flinging his head back, he craned his neck up to look at the professor, who stood with arms crossed above the two of them.
"Wh-wha?" Draco asked, utterly disoriented and still making minute thrusts with his hips against Harry.
Harry, on the other hand, felt Mason's presence like a shock of cold water. He clambered off of Malfoy, feeling uncomfortably hot and sweaty, and immensely dissatisfied.
"Too far, gentlemen," she told them. "I understand that it can be hard for the both of you, with this being the first time that you're experiencing these feelings, but I need you to practice some control. You're already far ahead of most of the class."
Harry tugged the front of his robes away from his body, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he attempted to hide the evidence of just how advanced their assignment had gotten. Draco sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, staring toward the back of the booth miserably. His profile was to Harry, but his hair had fallen forward, curtaining any indication of what he was thinking.
Mason left quietly, leaving the two of them in uncomfortable silence. Harry took a breath and turned to say something, but stopped as he caught sight of something peeking above Malfoy's collar. A large, deep red mark showed starkly against the pale skin. Harry swallowed, remembering how soft Malfoy's skin was and how it gave under his teeth, how the other boy's sweat tasted.
Pushing himself rather violently to his feet, Harry hauled the curtain back and fled.
***
Harry felt the warmth and weight of another body settle next to him on the grassy bank of the lake. A bulging napkin was placed in his lap, the hand depositing it giving his knee a squeeze before retreating. He looked up to see Hermione, who smiled before turning away to look at the sunset riding low on the horizon, transforming the lake into a living thing of glittering gold ripples. He unfolded the napkin to find half of a meat pie and a chicken leg and realized for the first time that he was hungry. He'd come straight here after class, avoiding the Great Hall altogether.
"Thanks," he said, lifting the still-steaming pie to his mouth.
Hermione shrugged, toying with a blade of grass. Harry could tell that she wasn't here only because he skipped a meal, and waited until she'd found the proper words.
"Ron thinks you're really upset with him," she began. "He said that you didn't come back from your walk last night, and didn't speak to him this morning, or at lunch. When you didn't show up for dinner, either, he was worried. Really, Harry, he was just curious. He didn't mean anything by it."
"I'm not upset with Ron," Harry said, wiping away a few flakes of crust clinging to the corner of his mouth. "I knew that I was blowing up over nothing, that's why I went for a walk in the first place. To cool my head."
"What happened on that walk?" Hermione asked cleverly.
Harry paused, twirling the drumstick between his fingers, before asking a question of his own. "Have you had a lemon drop recently, Hermione?"
"No. Why?"
"I had fifteen last night," he told her. "They were very stale."
Hermione stared at him perplexedly for several moments before her mouth fell open in a small circle of surprise.
"Dumbledore?" she breathed, looking around suspiciously.
Harry nodded.
"Here? How? Why now? Is something... did something happen?"
Harry turned to face her. "Voldemort is gathering forces. Tracking down his old allies and mustering up a Dark Army. Dumbledore says his ranks are nearly full. He thinks he'll make his move soon."
Hermione said nothing. Harry had always treasured her quiet contemplativeness in times of distress. He toyed with the corner of his napkin, and wasn't expecting it when she suddenly changed the topic.
"Did you tell Dumbledore about Sex Magic?" she asked.
Harry blinked, thrown, before answering. "I honestly didn't think to bring it up."
"How's that going?" Hermione asked cautiously.
Harry didn't answer, opting instead to stuff a large bite of chicken into his mouth. Hermione's eyebrows rose.
"That good, huh?" she asked, grinning.
Harry choked on his half-chewed mouthful, and couldn't tell whether his face was more red from lack of oxygen or embarassment. "Wha-? That's totally- You... how did you know?"
Hermione's brows shot further into her hairline and she laughed. "I was only joking. I didn't know, until now."
If possible, Harry reddened even further. Hermione looked at him rather askance, seeming unable to decide between concern or amusement. Harry laughed suddenly and she shook her head, not understanding.
"I'm not scared," he said bitterly. "Of Voldemort, his army of Death Eaters and Dark Creatures, the war. None of it really frightens me. But this... this thing with Malfoy. It terrifies me."
"Well, I'd imagine that being forced to shag one's nemesis would unnerve most people," she said.
"No," Harry shook his head. "It's because I'm liking it."
If one thing could be said about Hermione, it was that she handled such things with grace. Whereas Ron would have exploded at such a revelation, she merely sighed and looked genuinely disappointed.
"Look, Harry," she began, her tone serious. "You're a seventeen-year-old boy. Any... physical intimacy is bound to be pleasurable for you. It doesn't have to mean anything. It doesn't say anything about you."
"I know. It doesn't have to," he agreed. "But it does."
Harry drew his arm back, letting the chicken leg bone fly in an arc across the dusky pink sky. It landed with a soft sploosh on the surface of the lake, and a long tentacle reached out to snatch it. Swallowing against a sudden tightness in his throat, Harry buried his face in his hands and sighed. Hermione scooted closer, wrapping her arms around him, and sat with him until he stopped shaking.
******
Next chapter.
Harry was late getting to Sex Magic that day. As he sulked into the Room of Requirement, he noticed the sour expression on Mason's face and immediately dropped his gaze to his shoes. She shook her head and pointed to he and Malfoy's booth.
"In you go, Mr. Potter," she sighed. "He'll inform you of your instructions."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry mumbled, keeping his head down as he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside.
Malfoy sat tensely on the sofa, his knees pressed primly together and wringing his hands. He jumped when Harry entered, his face flickering through a myriad of swiftly concealed emotions. Harry ignored him and made his way over to the opposite end of the couch, slumping down onto it in a haphazard arrangement of limbs. Removing his glasses, he set them on the low table nearby and threw an arm over his eyes.
"Mason says you're supposed to tell me our assignment," he muttered, exhausted from lack of sleep.
"Er, yes," said Malfoy. "We're supposed to, um, do what we did last week... Only more."
"More?"
"Yes," answered Draco.
"What, exactly, does more entail?" asked Harry.
"Uh... The same thing, only in other places," he replied, clearly uncomfortable.
Harry sighed impatiently, not in the mood to deal with Malfoy's evasiveness. "Malfoy, just tell me what it is we're supposed to do."
"I already told you!" Draco said defensively.
"How about you just show me?" Harry muttered.
He hadn't truly realized what he'd said until he heard Malfoy's quiet "okay", and felt a warm pressure settle onto his lap. Jerking his arm away from his face so quickly that he almost hit the other boy, he stared incredulously up at Malfoy.
"What?" Malfoy protested, immediately attempting to back off. "You said-!"
"I know. It's okay," Harry told him, bringing his hands down to grasp Malfoy's hips. "You just startled me."
"Let go!" Draco ordered, pushing against Harry's hands.
"What? Why?" asked Harry, confused.
"I don't want to anymore!"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Will you just calm down?" he asked irritably, attempting to get a better hold on the squirming boy.
"I. Said. Let. Go!" Draco shouted, punctuating each word with a shove against Harry's chest.
"Ouch! Damn it, Malfoy!"
Grappling for control, Harry managed to ensnare Draco's hands in a firm grip and hauled them behind his back. Draco let out a very childish sound of frustration and reared back, his unsteady balance in Harry's lap and his own weight carrying him over the edge of the couch. Harry, his hands pulled helplessly along, followed with a startled grunt.
They hit the floor in an ungraceful, tangled sprawl. Harry's nose was smashed against the floor, his hands still caught underneath Malfoy. Draco groaned and shifted, attempting to maneuver around Harry's knuckles pressed into the small of his back.
"Here, lift up a bit," said Harry.
Draco did as asked, arching his back up off of the floor so that Harry could slide his hands out from underneath him. Harry pushed himself into a more comfortable position, turning his head so that his cheek lay against the cool floor.
"Thanks," he murmured.
His breath passed over Draco's ear and he felt the blond tense. Harry grinned, remembering the sensitivity of his partner's ears, and deliberately blew a soft stream of air over the lobe. Draco gasped.
"Get off," he ordered.
Harry chuckled and Draco squirmed, the sound vibrating warmly close to his ear. "That's for next week."
Draco's mouth dropped open. "You've been reading ahead in the lesson plan!" he accused.
"Yes," Harry agreed, leaning forward to nuzzle the hollow behind the other boy's ear.
Draco made a strangled mewling sound and brought his hands up to clutch at Harry's shoulders. Taking it as a cue that they were through with conversation, Harry put his mouth to other uses.
Planting soft, open-mouthed kisses over the firm skin of Malfoy's throat, he worked his way down to his collar and back up. When he reached the highly sensitive earlobe, he drew it into his mouth and ran his tongue over. Draco gasped loudly and shifted beneath him, his body jerking with each lap of Harry's tongue. Too pleased with the reaction he was getting out of his partner to stop, Harry added a gentle nip. Draco fairly writhed underneath him, his chest heaving with shaky, stuttering breaths.
"Potter..." he moaned.
Harry pulled away, catching a quick glimpse of Malfoy's flushed face before he closed his eyes and kissed him.
It wasn't like last time; no awkward mashing of lips. Malfoy hesitated momentarily, then he was kissing Harry back, drawing him closer and opening his mouth to draw in Harry's tongue.
Harry shifted on top of Malfoy so that he settled comfortably between his thighs. He gasped against the other boy's mouth at the feel of the hard line of an erection pressed into his hip. He couldn't blame Malfoy, he was halfway there himself.
Malfoy suddenly tore his mouth away from Harry's and latched it onto the side of his neck. Harry cried out in surprise at the feeling of something hot and slick pressed into his throat. If Malfoy lacked in finesse, Harry didn't mind. The Slytherin's mouth moved sloppily and without any pattern. He licked the line of Harry's collarbone, dipping into the hollow there and sucking hard. Harry moaned, fingers clawing at the ground on either side of Draco's head. Draco grinned against his shoulder and repeated the gesture in various spots all over Harry's neck, seeing which ones produced the strongest reactions. Harry endured it as long as he could before fisting a hand in Malfoy's hair and jerking his head away from his thoroughly laved neck.
Darkened gray eyes stared up at him, and the look in them was something that Harry had never seen before. Hatred, amusement, mocking disdain... Those were looks that he was used to getting from Malfoy. This wild, intense look of hunger and anticipation was new, and exciting.
Harry wrapped his other hand in the front of Draco's robes and tugged him up into a hard kiss. Draco's breath was hot against his cheek and his forehead was feverish and damp. Harry groaned and sank deeper into the pliant body beneath his, pressing the other boy into the floor. Malfoy whimpered harshly, jerking his hips upward. Harry understood, distantly, and pressed back against him.
His abdomen tightened as a spark of pleasure seared down his spine. He wrenched away from the kiss with an audible smacking sound, gasping in air as he rocked steadily against the warm body under him. Malfoy arched up rhythmically, making small, soft noises as he panted. The sound made Harry growl animalistically, and he buried his face in the crook of the blond's neck and shoulder and marked him with his teeth.
"That'll be enough, boys."
Professor Mason's cool voice filtered through the thick, hazy fog of Harry's consciousness. Flinging his head back, he craned his neck up to look at the professor, who stood with arms crossed above the two of them.
"Wh-wha?" Draco asked, utterly disoriented and still making minute thrusts with his hips against Harry.
Harry, on the other hand, felt Mason's presence like a shock of cold water. He clambered off of Malfoy, feeling uncomfortably hot and sweaty, and immensely dissatisfied.
"Too far, gentlemen," she told them. "I understand that it can be hard for the both of you, with this being the first time that you're experiencing these feelings, but I need you to practice some control. You're already far ahead of most of the class."
Harry tugged the front of his robes away from his body, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he attempted to hide the evidence of just how advanced their assignment had gotten. Draco sat up and hugged his knees to his chest, staring toward the back of the booth miserably. His profile was to Harry, but his hair had fallen forward, curtaining any indication of what he was thinking.
Mason left quietly, leaving the two of them in uncomfortable silence. Harry took a breath and turned to say something, but stopped as he caught sight of something peeking above Malfoy's collar. A large, deep red mark showed starkly against the pale skin. Harry swallowed, remembering how soft Malfoy's skin was and how it gave under his teeth, how the other boy's sweat tasted.
Pushing himself rather violently to his feet, Harry hauled the curtain back and fled.
***
Harry felt the warmth and weight of another body settle next to him on the grassy bank of the lake. A bulging napkin was placed in his lap, the hand depositing it giving his knee a squeeze before retreating. He looked up to see Hermione, who smiled before turning away to look at the sunset riding low on the horizon, transforming the lake into a living thing of glittering gold ripples. He unfolded the napkin to find half of a meat pie and a chicken leg and realized for the first time that he was hungry. He'd come straight here after class, avoiding the Great Hall altogether.
"Thanks," he said, lifting the still-steaming pie to his mouth.
Hermione shrugged, toying with a blade of grass. Harry could tell that she wasn't here only because he skipped a meal, and waited until she'd found the proper words.
"Ron thinks you're really upset with him," she began. "He said that you didn't come back from your walk last night, and didn't speak to him this morning, or at lunch. When you didn't show up for dinner, either, he was worried. Really, Harry, he was just curious. He didn't mean anything by it."
"I'm not upset with Ron," Harry said, wiping away a few flakes of crust clinging to the corner of his mouth. "I knew that I was blowing up over nothing, that's why I went for a walk in the first place. To cool my head."
"What happened on that walk?" Hermione asked cleverly.
Harry paused, twirling the drumstick between his fingers, before asking a question of his own. "Have you had a lemon drop recently, Hermione?"
"No. Why?"
"I had fifteen last night," he told her. "They were very stale."
Hermione stared at him perplexedly for several moments before her mouth fell open in a small circle of surprise.
"Dumbledore?" she breathed, looking around suspiciously.
Harry nodded.
"Here? How? Why now? Is something... did something happen?"
Harry turned to face her. "Voldemort is gathering forces. Tracking down his old allies and mustering up a Dark Army. Dumbledore says his ranks are nearly full. He thinks he'll make his move soon."
Hermione said nothing. Harry had always treasured her quiet contemplativeness in times of distress. He toyed with the corner of his napkin, and wasn't expecting it when she suddenly changed the topic.
"Did you tell Dumbledore about Sex Magic?" she asked.
Harry blinked, thrown, before answering. "I honestly didn't think to bring it up."
"How's that going?" Hermione asked cautiously.
Harry didn't answer, opting instead to stuff a large bite of chicken into his mouth. Hermione's eyebrows rose.
"That good, huh?" she asked, grinning.
Harry choked on his half-chewed mouthful, and couldn't tell whether his face was more red from lack of oxygen or embarassment. "Wha-? That's totally- You... how did you know?"
Hermione's brows shot further into her hairline and she laughed. "I was only joking. I didn't know, until now."
If possible, Harry reddened even further. Hermione looked at him rather askance, seeming unable to decide between concern or amusement. Harry laughed suddenly and she shook her head, not understanding.
"I'm not scared," he said bitterly. "Of Voldemort, his army of Death Eaters and Dark Creatures, the war. None of it really frightens me. But this... this thing with Malfoy. It terrifies me."
"Well, I'd imagine that being forced to shag one's nemesis would unnerve most people," she said.
"No," Harry shook his head. "It's because I'm liking it."
If one thing could be said about Hermione, it was that she handled such things with grace. Whereas Ron would have exploded at such a revelation, she merely sighed and looked genuinely disappointed.
"Look, Harry," she began, her tone serious. "You're a seventeen-year-old boy. Any... physical intimacy is bound to be pleasurable for you. It doesn't have to mean anything. It doesn't say anything about you."
"I know. It doesn't have to," he agreed. "But it does."
Harry drew his arm back, letting the chicken leg bone fly in an arc across the dusky pink sky. It landed with a soft sploosh on the surface of the lake, and a long tentacle reached out to snatch it. Swallowing against a sudden tightness in his throat, Harry buried his face in his hands and sighed. Hermione scooted closer, wrapping her arms around him, and sat with him until he stopped shaking.
******
Next chapter.