HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 35: Back Home [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 35, "Back Home" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: adult Warnings: explicit sex including brief rimming Summary: Having finally admitted something to himself, Harry says it to Draco, too.
Draco sounded just as desperate as Harry himself. "Merlin, yes. Tonight." He blew a stray strand of fair hair off his forehead with a puff of breath, and Harry repressed a strong urge to drag him down to the ground and give those temptingly parted lips a thorough snogging. The desire must have shown in his face, despite his attempts to breathe evenly.
"Think of Filch and Pince together," advised Draco as he stood.
With a snort, Harry said, "That's a revolting thought."
"Which is why it will work," said Draco, biting his lip. He touched his left arm with a frown as they walked across the garden.
Harry wondered if Draco still felt some pain from the Mark's removal. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. I'd just rather be going home, that's all."
So would Harry. It was odd to think of the Black house as "home," but what other place was? Certainly not Number Four, Privet Drive, and Harry had already decided not to return to Hogwarts. Much though he enjoyed visiting the Burrow and loved the Weasleys, this wasn't home either.
But it was familiar, and Harry looked around the comfortable shabby room while Ginny described the possible Horcrux-dissolving potions she and Ron had found. When Draco remarked that he wished he could ask Snape about one of them, a predictable squabble ensued between him and Ron, with Ron accusing Draco of planning to betray Harry, impossible though that was with the Vow he had taken.
To Harry's surprise, Draco described the Vow to Ginny to explain why he couldn't contact Snape if it might put Harry at risk. Harry was just as glad there was no chance of that; it wasn't as if he'd ever gotten along well with Snape. But he seized the opportunity to suggest that if they were going to start trying to brew the potion the Weasleys had found, he and Draco had better leave.
Ron tried to persuade him to stay for supper; Hermione, though, said nothing, and Ginny made no more than a token objection to his departure. Looking at her, Harry's heart twisted. She had been quieter than usual all day, and had let Draco sit between them at the midday meal. Hermione had guessed what was developing between himself and Draco, and Harry wondered if perhaps Ginny had too. There was nothing he could say to explain, not here in the Burrow in front of Ron.
"I'd better go thank your mum and dad for having us," Harry said abruptly. "Back in a minute."
The elder Weasleys were in the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley setting potatoes to peel and her husband telling her about a self-heating tea cosy that had been brought in to his office the week before.
"Do you have to go so soon, dear?" Mrs. Weasley sounded disappointed.
"Yeah," said Harry, "but I wanted to say thanks for inviting us over today." He suddenly remembered what Draco had suggested earlier about getting tickets to a Quidditch match. "Oh, and one other thing. Draco thought that Ron and Ginny and Hermione might like to see the Cannons-Puddlemere game next weekend; would it be all right if he ordered tickets for the five of you? If you don't have something else planned already?"
Mr. Weasley's face lit up. "That would be splendid fun."
Mrs. Weasley was less enthusiastic, saying, "It's a very generous gesture, but I'm not sure..."
"Oh, Molly, if the boy wants to do this, why not? Good for him, I say. Will you and he be coming along as well, Harry?"
"No, I don't think so," Harry said. "It wouldn't be safe for Draco – he might be recognized by Death Eaters – and I'd feel awfully mean going and leaving him stuck alone in the Black house; you know how gloomy it is there. Another time, maybe. But you'll go if he sends the tickets?"
Arthur Weasley nodded vigorously, shushing his wife when she opened her mouth again. "It's to be a surprise for the children, I take it? No worries. We'll manage."
"Great." Harry smiled, relieved. "I'd better be off, I have a potion brewing that needs some attention soon."
He repeated his farewells quickly and went back to Draco, who looked quite ready to leave. Stepping out of the Floo and brushing the ash from his clothes, he felt much more relaxed. "It's good to be home, isn't it?"
Draco's eyes widened. "I..."
The high voice of Dobby broke in, apologizing that dinner would not be ready for nearly two hours, and Harry forgot to ask Draco afterward what he'd been about to say. Instead, since time permitted, they quickly took care of the potions before hurrying up to the bedroom. Once there, nervousness made Harry fumble as he started to take off his clothes.
"We don't have to do this, remember." Draco looked uncomfortable, too, which made Harry feel somewhat better.
"I want to. Really," Harry assured Draco, and pulled off his own trousers.
Indeed his cock was telling him in no uncertain terms that it was very much looking forward to this when Draco said, "Oh, blast it, no lube. This lotion's not really slippery enough."
"Hang on." Harry could feel his face heat up as he admitted, "I have some; Seamus gave it to me last Christmas, as a joke gift, but I, er, tried it out." He'd used quite a bit over the months, in fact, about half of the good-sized bottle, which he now tossed to Draco.
"Ew, melon," said Draco, sniffing it. "I suppose I should be glad it's not strawberry." He had already crawled up on the bed. "Come on then."
Taking off his glasses and handing them to Draco, who was on the side by the nightstand, Harry made himself bring up the matter that most concerned him. "We, we haven't talked about who would..." He gestured vaguely with his hands, not sure how to say it.
"Who would top and who would bottom?" Draco didn't seem bothered about speaking the blunt words. "I don't much care, to be honest. I suppose you might feel more comfortable topping; it's more like what you probably expected if you've mostly thought about having sex with girls."
Harry considered it. What Draco said was true, and yet... he'd never had sex like this with anyone, just hands and mouths and so on, which was sex, he supposed, but not the same. It worried him. What if he did something wrong? He'd heard Oliver and Fred and George talking in the showers after Quidditch, stories about blokes who'd been so excited that they hadn't even managed to get their pricks inside their girlfriends' pussies before they came. He thought he couldn't stand the embarrassment if that happened to him. Especially since an arsehole must be tighter than a cunt, and more difficult to get into. His prick throbbed at the thought. No. He shook his head and said, "I think I'd rather have you be top, you've done it before and know what to do. I might hurt you or something."
"Aren't you afraid that I'll hurt you?" Draco's voice was surprised. "Most blokes think bottoming will be less fun... though I'd disagree, myself."
"I trust you," Harry said. He ran his fingers through his hair and added, "Besides, doesn't the Unbreakable Vow mean you can't hurt me?"
"I don't think it works quite like that; if I hurt you, doing this, it would be unintentional. But if it's what you want..." Draco reached out and pulled Harry in close for a kiss.
Before long he was biting at Harry's neck, pushing his cock against Harry's. It felt so good that Harry thought he wouldn't be able to wait, not if Draco kept rubbing against him that way, and having decided that he wanted Draco to fuck him he didn't want to risk Draco feeling the same way and coming too soon. He ran his hands across Draco's back, with his right hand nudging Draco to tilt his head up for a deep and desperate kiss, with the left drawing Draco's arse closer.
"Please... more. I need... need you." It was a confession, desire spiked with apprehension that he hoped Draco would not sense.
The reply – "Me, too" – reassured him, and when Draco told him to roll onto his hands and knees he did so, gasping when instead of the coolness of the lubricant gel that he expected, it was a warm tongue that pierced him.
"Fuck, oh god, Draco, please," Harry begged when Draco's tongue withdrew. He needed, needed that touch, needed Draco filling him; he had been fantasizing about it for days, but when Draco's finger first penetrated him it didn't feel the way he had imagined it would. Draco was patient, waiting until Harry was able to relax and tell him, "Go on," and Harry was grateful that Draco didn't seem to think it surprising or timid of Harry to need to go slowly. After a bit it did feel better, especially the way Draco's fingers rubbed against the tightness of the ring of muscle.
"I'm going to try now," Draco warned, his fingers slipping away, replaced by the larger head of his cock.
It didn't hurt, not exactly, but Harry said, "Ow. Wait," anyway, trying to get used to the sensation. The knowledge that Draco was inside his body undid him quite as much as the feel of Draco's hand wrapping around his cock, stroking him back to full hardness. Once again Draco held back, although Harry could feel him quivering and guessed how much effort that required. Harry took a deep breath and let it out, pushing back against Draco's cock, allowing it to open him bit by bit.
"Does it always feel like this?" He had to ask, embarrassed though he was. It was like needing to shit, his muscles spasming, wanting to force the fullness out, and he had to say so.
"Sometimes. I'm not hurting you, am I?" Draco sounded worried.
Harry shook his head. "No, it's just really full."
"If it hurts you, I'll stop," Draco promised. "Harry... oh Merlin, you feel so good." The words were a whisper, a prayer, and suddenly Draco was moving, pumping into Harry's arse, and now it did hurt a little but it felt good too, when Draco shifted and something inside Harry seemed to flare, sending sparkles along his nerves. Only for a moment, however, because Draco whimpered and went still, his hand dropping away from Harry's cock. Harry knew Draco had come; he waited for Draco to pull away, but when nothing happened in several minutes he gave a little moan himself, trying to move forward.
"Sorry, oh Harry, I'm sorry, are you all right?" Draco withdrew at last, letting Harry shift and roll over to look over at him.
"It wasn't quite what I thought it would be like," Harry admitted. "But... I liked the feeling of how close you were."
"So did I." Draco's voice was low and thoughtful. "I wish it had been better for you."
That was silly. Harry leaned over and kissed him, hard. "It's all right." He rubbed his still-unspent cock against Draco's thigh.
"Shall I suck you off?" Draco offered. "Or, let's be fair, do you want to fuck me now that you know what it's like?"
Harry did, but... "I'd rather be able to see your face."
"If I raise my legs up enough, we can be face to face. But stretch me first, the way I did you," said Draco, passing Harry the bottle of lube.
Carefully Harry imitated what Draco had done, pressing a gel-slicked finger into Draco's arse and wriggling it a bit, then following it with a second. When Draco cried out, he was afraid he'd done something wrong and had hurt him.
"No," Draco assured him, explaining that Harry had stroked over his prostate; he'd tried to find Harry's but hadn't managed. A lot of blokes, though not all, enjoyed the sensation a great deal.
That must have been what he had felt for just a moment before Draco came, Harry realized, those sparkles. "You can try again another time." Harry grinned, anticipating. "But it's my turn now."
He held his prick, putting the head of it against Draco's hole, and tried to push in. It didn't quite work to begin with, but before he could worry that he was aimed wrong, or hadn't opened Draco enough beforehand, he felt the muscles ripple and his prick was sliding inside, slippery heat that encouraged him to go further. "Oh, fuck, ah..." He hardly knew what he was saying, distantly heard Draco's words urging him on, but he could only see Draco's face, wide-eyed, looking up at him, feel the tight embrace of Draco's arse around his prick. Harry shifted his hips and Draco's lips parted in a moan.
"There, Harry, fuck me..."
It was somehow different, astonishingly sensuous, even after what the two of them had been doing recently with hands and mouths. He'd always imagined wetness, daydreaming about Ginny, but the lubricant felt somehow slick yet not wet, and Draco's heat was far greater than Harry had expected, too. Draco's legs were around his back, pulling him deeper; he gave into his instincts and rode Draco without thought, thrusting almost blindly now, the tension building.
"Draco!" He spilled, gasping, hearing Draco's breathing, half-pant half-grunt, in rhythm with his own.
When it was over, awkwardness seized him; he pulled out and felt the semen sticky on his cock and thighs. Some must have been in Draco's arse, although Draco didn't appear to mind or even notice as far as Harry could tell.
"Wow." He couldn't think of a better word. "I didn't know it would be like that."
Draco put his arms around Harry. "Yeah."
They lay there together, Harry's head resting against Draco's shoulder, bony but surprisingly comfortable. He had nearly dozed off when Draco said, regret lacing his voice, "I suppose we'd better go have dinner."
"Oh. Yeah." Harry sat up and reached for his glasses, settling them on his nose. He thought about taking a shower, but decided not to bother. Dobby would be disappointed if they were late for dinner, and it was almost six o'clock.
He watched Draco during the meal, his eyes flicking between the clean pale skin of Draco's left forearm and Draco's face, which was down turned, looking at his plate except for occasional glances over at Harry.
"What is it?" asked Draco abruptly when he had only a few bites left. "Do I have a giant spot on my nose or something?"
"No." Happiness sang through Harry; Draco was smiling despite his rather sarcastic words. "No, I was just thinking how great it is that you're free of the Mark now."
"I'll still have to worry about being spotted by Death Eaters, though it's nice to think I can't be summoned. But it's not like I'm suddenly safe, any more than you are."
"Together we can manage, I'm sure. We worked out the Permutatio spell, found and recognized a Horcrux; we'll find a way to destroy it soon. And then the rest of them. I can't say I look forward to facing Voldemort" – his recent nightmares bore witness to that – "but neither of us is going to be completely free until he's defeated, and all his allies too. Until then we have to enjoy the good moments we get – and tonight was one of those." Harry shifted in his seat; his arse was rather sore, but he didn't care. He grinned at Draco. "Really good."
"It was, wasn't it?" Draco finished his last forkful and licked his lips. "So. Did you have anything else urgent that you wanted to do tonight?"
Harry laughed. "Work on the potions we have already in progress, and start brewing the one that Ginny and Ron found, I guess. But after that – no."
"Excellent," said Draco. He stood up and came around behind Harry to whisper in his ear. "I don't know why it is, Potter, but I'm awfully keen on shagging you again. Doesn't have to be the same as what we just did, though – I'm feeling a bit tender and I bet you are too."
"I am." Harry felt his face grow red. The thought of being inside Draco again was making him hard, but he wouldn't want to bottom again tonight himself and it wouldn't be fair to ask Draco to do so. "We'd... we'd better go deal with the potions first anyhow, like I said."
Dobby popped into the room to clear the dishes just as Harry was standing up. His stack of hats looked ready to tumble down as he bent his head to Harry's thanks for the delicious meal, saying, "Master Harry Potter has no need to thank Dobby. Dobby is pleased to cook for him and for Master Draco."
There was not much Harry could say to that, so he shrugged and smiled and went down to the cellar room with Draco.
"Which was the recipe? Oh, there it is, the one with the sea-holly," Draco muttered, flipping through the pages. "Right. That second potion we started before needs to be strained and then cooled slightly before mixing in the crushed lacewings; to you want to do that or start on grating the burdock root for this one?"
"I don't care. I'll strain the other, I guess," said Harry, and reached for the chinois. When the gelatinous mixture was dripping into a clean bowl, he sneaked a look at Draco, admiring the precise motions of his hands as he prepared all the ingredients needed for the first stage of brewing Ginny's recipe. Snape had always openly favored Draco in Potions class, but watching now without his old dislike coloring his perception, Harry realized that Draco was in fact more than competent, as good as Hermione or perhaps even a touch better, at this particular branch of magic.
"What?" Draco had noticed Harry staring at him again.
"Nothing," Harry mumbled, turning away and pretending to search for the packet of lacewings. He tipped out a handful into the mortar and began crushing them with far more force than necessary. "Just hoping that one of these potions works on the Horcrux, since we're putting so much effort into them."
"I'm sure one will eventually," said Draco with quiet confidence. He looked up, caught Harry's gaze, and shrugged, his face pink. "You're Harry Potter, after all."
"Doesn't mean I lead a charmed life." Harry found himself unexpectedly defensive, even angry. "My mum and dad died, you'll remember."
"But that prophecy..."
"Only says that it'll be either me or Voldemort, it's hardly a guarantee that I'll beat him." He shivered and absentmindedly reached for a spoon.
"I refuse to believe that you won't," said Draco, worrying at the edge of his lower lip. Then his eyes slid to Harry's hands. "Wait!" His voice was sharp. "Don't stir that yet, not until you've added the lacewings. Come on, Harry, you were in N.E.W.T.-level Potions, you should know better than that. Gra... Hermione might have helped you along the way, but you had to pass the O.W.L. on your own."
"Oh. Yeah, right," Harry muttered, and thumped the pestle in the mortar again, annoyed with Draco for pointing out his mistake, but more with himself for having made it.
"Harry..." Draco had moved around the table and put a hand on Harry's other arm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I just don't want either of us to make a mistake so that we'd have to start the potion again, because I know you want to get this Horcrux destroyed as quickly as you can. It'll be all right."
It still felt strange to have Draco reassuring instead of criticizing, and Harry didn't quite trust himself to speak. He just nodded, still grinding away at the lacewings.
"They're crushed enough, I think," said Draco. "Here." He lifted the chinois away and pushed the bowl towards Harry, who stirred the powder in.
"Does it matter how many times I stir, for this recipe?"
"Twenty-one, clockwise, and then seventeen counterclockwise," was the answer as Draco ran his finger along the directions. "Then heat it once again and simmer for ten minutes. After that it needs to rest for fifteen hours and finally have the armadillo bile added, but we'll be able to test it tomorrow."
"Good," said Harry. "The one you're starting is a fairly quick one too, isn't it?"
"Mm. Yes. Probably be ready Wednesday. But the third recipe from before will take a few days beyond that. These dissolving potions mostly do seem to take several days at least, don't they?"
"I wonder if it's because they go against nature," Harry said thoughtfully. "Remus mentioned once that the Wolfsbane Potion is very difficult to brew, and that certainly has an effect contrary to his nature. He couldn't make it himself, in fact; Snape did it for him, at least while he was at Hogwarts."
"So there's something you'd say was good about Professor Snape." Draco had tilted his head and was looking at Harry sideways, even as he measured and poured and stirred.
"That, and... he told you to come find me. Which at first I would have held against him, but not anymore." Harry adjusted the flame under the cauldron to keep the thick mixture from simmering too fast. "Though that's not to say I think he's a wonderful person – he did kill Dumbledore."
"I know," said Draco. "To keep me from having to do it. And..." He paused long enough for Harry to look over and see his throat working. "It wasn't easy for him, I'm sure of that. He'd probably hate that I'm telling you this, but I saw him the next day. He thought I was asleep, and he was actually crying. His face was wet. It was awful. Then later I tried to talk to him about it and he cut me off, said in his most sneering voice, 'Professor Dumbledore required me to act as I did, both for your sake and for his own. He was dying in any case; I merely hastened the inevitable. Now let it lie.' So I did, nothing else I could do then. It wasn't long after that he told me to go look for you, without giving me any ideas as to where."
Harry was struck by the simplicity with which Draco described Snape's reaction to killing Dumbledore. Maybe it was even the truth. He shook his head, not really wanting to believe, and looked at his potion. It had thickened even further and was now a pale green. Taking it off the flame, Harry covered the cauldron and left it to itself until the next day.
"Are you almost finished?" he asked Draco.
"A few minutes. You could measure out the sea-holly root for me, that's the last thing to be added now." He bent over the mixture, counting below his breath as he stirred. "Sift it in slowly, please?"
"Right." Harry tapped the spoon against the cauldron's rim, letting the powder drift down to the surface where it dissolved. "That's it."
Draco straightened up and stretched, his arms behind his head and his hands gripping his elbows. As he did so his shirt pulled up from his trousers, a triangle of skin showing where the fabric gaped around the buttons. "Now, I think there'd been some mention of shagging again?"
"You were the one who said it, not me," said Harry, unable to take his eyes off that pale flesh at Draco's waist. "Not that I've any objection." In fact, just the thought was enough to make his cock start to feel uncomfortably confined. It was very like when he first was going out with Ginny, except that then, at Hogwarts, he'd been wearing school robes all the time and so it was easier to hide his reactions. Not to mention that they'd had far fewer opportunities to kiss, much less do more. Here... he could see Draco's glance flicker to the telltale bulge at Harry's groin.
"Apparently not." Draco smirked a little, but without malice, and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "Let's go back to our room, shall we?"
A shiver of pleasure went through Harry at hearing Draco say "our room" in such a matter-of-fact voice. "Let's," he agreed. He was tempted to start snogging Draco right there, but feared that if he did they wouldn't make it back to the bedroom. The stone floor of the cellar looked awfully cold and hard as a place for any serious fooling around. Instead he grabbed Draco's hand and tugged at him. "C'mon."
They raced upstairs, bumping and jostling, Harry enjoying the sheer contact – it didn't matter what noise they made, the only other living thing in the house was Dobby, and Harry had accepted that house-elves genuinely didn't care about such matters, just as Draco had said. Laughing, Harry threw open the door to the room and flung himself onto the bed, Draco only an instant after him, and they rolled over in a complicated tangle until Draco suddenly tightened his hold and pinned Harry under him, panting.
Harry looked up into the grey eyes and smiled. Draco's hair hung down around his face, almost hiding the silver skull in his right ear; it was an uncommonly disheveled look for him, but a good one, and Harry said so.
"Why didn't I ever notice you like this at Hogwarts?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. "You loathed my guts at Hogwarts. With some reason, I'll admit. Not exactly circumstances congenial to admiration; and you had a girlfriend as well."
"Two, actually," Harry said. "Cho, sort of, and then Ginny."
He regretted saying that almost immediately, because Draco repeated, "Ginny, yes," and rolled away.
"I know I shouldn't ask, but... what about Ginny?" Draco asked. He lay next to Harry, his shoulders stiff.
"You know we broke up," said Harry, in some confusion. "Months ago. I'm sure I told you that."
"Yeah, but you broke it off because you were worried that she could be in danger if it were known the two of you were going out. You did it because you cared for her, not because you didn't." Draco's voice sliced the words into sharp ribbons. "So do you?"
"Care for her?" Harry scarcely needed to think. "Of course I do. I love her." He plunged on, speaking over the look of hurt on Draco's face. "I love her, and Ron, and Hermione... and you, too."
"Not all in the same way, I hope?" Draco had turned his face away. "I'd rather regret being considered on the same plane as... as Ron Weasley. No offense."
"No. Hermione and Ron are just friends." He cleared his throat, remembering that there had been a few things that were more than "just friends" with Ron... but those weren't really important, were they? Just experimenting, as any two best mates might.
"Ginny – all I can say is that I don't know anymore. You've confused me. I thought I knew who I was, what I wanted, but now I'm just not sure." Harry took a deep breath. "A month ago I had everything planned out. I'd visit Godric's Hollow where my parents died, and then go after the Horcruxes. Once those were destroyed, I'd have to face Voldemort eventually... and assuming I succeeded in doing for him before he did for me, I'd marry Ginny and settle down, get a job at the Ministry of Magic or something. You've complicated things. Not that that's necessarily bad, but... it does make everything I once depended on as solid and unchanging become a lot more insecure."
Harry reached to grab Draco's hand. "Don't crowd me about this just now, please? I like having you here, very much." He could feel his face heating as he said it. "I like having sex with you. I like... no. I love you."
Draco turned back to look at him wide-eyed, the pupils so dilated that his eyes looked black rather than grey. "Do you mean that?" The words were demanding, but the tone nearly wistful.
"Yes." Harry gave him a crooked grin. "I'm in trouble, I think. Not supposed to be in love with two people at once, am I?" And if Draco stayed here for a while, as was almost certain – where else could he go and be safe? – Harry suspected that it would be one person he would be in love with after all, and that person would be Draco. A shudder gripped him. Ginny had always been very understanding; she'd agreed to break up for her own protection, but they had had a tacit agreement that someday, when it was safe, they would get back together. So how could she cope with this?