|Celandine's Chronicle (celandineb) wrote in cels_fic_haven,|
@ 2007-08-23 16:16:00
|Entry tags:||coauthor: cruisedirector, hp fic draco/harry, hp fic investigations|
HP fic: Meeting Again [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Meeting Again
Authors: cruisedirector and celandineb
Warnings: Spoilers for DH.
Summary: Now that Harry doesn't hate Draco any more, he's able to appreciate Draco's talents.
Note: Second in the Investigations series, after "Exchanging Wands". Also here (f-locked).
It was much easier to knock at the Malfoys' door this time, Harry found, and Narcissa Malfoy didn't hesitate in asking him to come inside.
"Draco will be down in a moment." She eyed Harry speculatively. "You're very kind to come fetch him, Mister Potter."
"We're still not sure whether the Fidelius Charm on the house is completely defunct or not, so this seemed sensible," said Harry. He didn't particularly want to make small talk with Draco's mother, and was thankful when Draco did, indeed, appear shortly, carrying his broom, with his trunk floating behind him.
"Hello, Harry. I'm ready to go." Draco gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you in a week."
If, thought Harry with a private grin, Draco didn't persuade his parents to let him stay on with Harry until it was time to catch the Hogwarts Express. September was only a fortnight away. Lucius had stipulated that Draco ought to return home for the last few days before the term began, and Draco had agreed, but Harry suspected that he didn't really intend to follow through.
"Come on, my father isn't here," Draco added, stepping outside the door. Harry knew there was a charm on the house to prevent anyone Apparating directly in or out -- part of Lucius' punishment, like the loss of his wand and the Ministry surveillance of all the Malfoy family's dark treasures. Probably Draco's father was in hiding this morning not because he did not wish to say goodbye to his son, but because he did not wish to risk any unpleasantness with Harry. That made Harry a bit sad. Even though he found the elder Malfoys loathsome, he couldn't help envying Draco for having living parents who adored him.
Harry hadn't wanted to Apparate to the vicinity of Grimmauld Place, either. In the aftermath of the war, he had much less privacy than before, particularly in London. "If it's all right with you, I thought that perhaps we could fly," he suggested.
Draco's face lit up. "All the way to London? In daylight? Be fantastic!"
"We'll have to Disillusion ourselves or stay above the clouds, but yeah." Harry grinned. "I thought it'd be fun. I see you got your Nimbus back." It had occurred to Harry that Draco might not, since he had left it at Hogwarts when he fled the night of Dumbledore's death.
"Professor Snape had it sent back to me when he became Headmaster." Draco blinked and bit his lip, then put on a determined expression, stroking over the handle. "Haven't had a lot of opportunity to fly, lately."
Harry nodded, watching fascinated. "The only thing is, what about your trunk?"
"Oh, I'll just shrink it." Draco cast Reducio, then used another spell to tie the trunk to his broom. "I'll Disillusion you if you do me, okay?"
"I'll do you if you want." Harry caught Draco's eye and they both laughed. "When we get to my house." Raising his wand, he cast the charm that would make them invisible to Muggles, then felt a pleasant tingling as Draco lifted his wand to do the same to Harry. Probably the tingling was more from the way Draco was grinning at him than the spell. Tucking his wand away and straddling his broom, he said, "Ready?"
Instead of replying, Draco kicked off the ground, soaring above the grounds of the mansion. "Race you to Stonehenge, Potter!" he shouted.
The two of them wove back and forth, laughing, as they approached the stone circle that rose above Salisbury Plain not far from where Draco's family lived in Wiltshire. Harry dove low, sailing between two of the massive megaliths. Muggle tourists visiting the monument looked around as if they had felt the breeze from the broom, but none of them appeared to notice Draco landing inside the circle at nearly the same moment Harry's feet touched the ground.
"Think we had better call it a draw," Draco snickered. "Good thing we didn't bet on this." He was still straddling his broom with the handle pulled up to his chest, pressed lightly against his groin.
"I'd have flown faster if we did," Harry countered. He'd bought himself this new Firebolt only a few weeks before, and it made even better speed than his old one had.
"Funny, I thought you were quite happy to chase me," Draco grinned. "Or was that someone else whose eyes were glued to my arse?"
Harry blushed. How had Draco seen that? But it was true. "Um." He glanced up at the stones. "I've never been here before... do you come often?" Then he realized what he'd said and blushed again. "Come here often, I mean."
Draco appeared not to have noticed; he was looking around reverentially at the sarsens towering above them. "This is one of the first places my father ever took me flying," he said. "The Giants' Dance... he told me it must have been built by wizards, no matter what those books by Muggles say." Harry glanced over at the tourists carrying guides, wearing headsets, completely oblivious to the presence of two wizards standing within the rope that marked the boundary for trespassers. "Still, if this once belonged to wizards, you'd think we'd have protected it better."
Harry placed his hand on the nearest upright stone. It seemed to vibrate with energy. "These are so old... they were put here a long time before wizards started hiding their world from Muggles," he reflected aloud. "They've been a part of Muggle Britain all that time. It wouldn't have been easy to make them disappear without causing more trouble than it was worth."
"Yes, but they attract all sorts of charlatans and liars." Draco was looking at the throng of tourists with thinly-veiled dislike. "Phony magicians and religious fakes. Are your Muggle relatives like that?"
"Phonies and fakes, yeah, but not religious ones." Harry snorted. "They used to go to church only at Christmas and Easter, mostly I think so that they could wear smart new clothes. So they weren't religious fakes, just faked having religion, if that makes sense. But phonies in other ways -- one summer to get me out of their house without a fuss, Mad-Eye Moody arranged for them to think they were finalists for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition."
"The All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition?" Draco hooted at that. "What a load of rubbish. You're well rid of them."
"I don't have a lot of yearning to ever see any of them again, no," agreed Harry. Even though Dudley had been almost decent the last time Harry had seen him, that hardly made up for sixteen years of bullying. "Anyhow. What do you know about the henges -- what did your father tell you?" He was prepared to take whatever Lucius Malfoy had said with a grain of salt, but since he didn't really know anything about it, he was curious.
"This whole area," Draco swung his arm about, indicating Salisbury Plain, "was inhabited centuries before the Roman Muggles came and tried to get rid of wizards and everyone else who wouldn't obey them. You can feel the magic in the stones, can't you?" Harry had to nod. "Muggles live in Avebury and Little Compton now, but those stone circles are ancient, too. And the burial mounds, the long barrows? These were ours once, like Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow -- we shouldn't have to share them."
"And that's why your father hates Muggles?" Harry couldn't help sounding incredulous. It wasn't as if the Malfoy family had ever personally owned the stone circles. He didn't think. And if there were wizards buried in the nearby barrows, they were as dead as the Muggles of those ancient eras.
"That and all the Muggle blood mixing with ours..." Then Draco grimaced, apparently having remembered that Harry's mother had been Muggle-born. "You know what I mean. He thinks that if we don't protect what's ours, the Muggles will overrun everything. Far more of them than us. Do you know they have weapons that can blow up half the world if we don't act quickly enough to stop them?"
Again Harry thought about the Dursleys, who were just as prejudiced as the Malfoys, only toward different people. They would hate the idea of invisible wizards visiting Stonehenge as much as Lucius apparently hated the idea that it was open to Muggles. And Harry no more liked the idea of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in charge of anyone's fate than Lucius and Narcissa. "There's good and bad wizards and Muggles both," he pointed out. "We've both known a lot of the bad ones, I guess."
"I haven't really known any Muggles, good or bad," Draco admitted. "Not in person. But no one I trust has ever had much good to say about them, not even you. And if the stuff Skeeter wrote about Dumbledore is true, even he once thought Muggles needed to be ruled. Anyhow." He looked around at the Muggles outside the ropes. "I don't see why there have to be such crowds of them... at least there's the rope to keep them back."
"Most wouldn't be vandals, but there's always a few rotten apples," said Harry, thinking that he wouldn't trust a wizard like Goyle not to do exactly the same sort of thing, only with magic rather than a knife or paint. "I'm glad that we could get in, though. I've heard about it but always wondered what it would be like to be here. Wish that I could spend some time just being around the henge, feeling the old magic, you know."
"There's a small henge near my house that's been hidden from Muggles for centuries by various spells. We could go there sometime, if you wanted?" Draco sounded half-eager, half-nervous, as if he wasn't sure how Harry would react to the invitation.
"As long as there aren't any nasty old spells lingering." Harry grinned. "And if it's private..."
Draco grinned back. "Probably not as private as your house," he said. "Speaking of which, much as I enjoy visiting this historical marvel, I can think of other things I'd like to see on this holiday."
"Shall we, then?" Harry swung his leg back over his broom, taking one last glance around the magnificent stones. He hoped that he would get to visit it again with Draco, and those other places Draco had mentioned... odd though it felt to be making such plans with someone whom until recently he had tried to avoid as much as possible. "We'd better not race through London, though. Not Muggles but wizards around who might report us to the Ministry if we're spotted."
Draco followed him obediently as he kicked off and swerved east, and Harry looked back over his shoulder to smile, waiting for him to catch up. He loved flying low over the Thames and he suspected that Draco would as well. For a moment he felt a bit disloyal to Ron, who would also have loved a long trip by broom like this, but Ron had his family and Hermione to keep him company... this was Harry's time to spend as he wished, and he wanted to spend it with Draco.
From Wiltshire to London was a lengthy flight by broom, but Harry enjoyed it. Until they were near London, they were able to veer and loop and race a bit; when they weren't competing in a Quidditch match, Harry discovered, it was rather a lot of fun to fly with Draco. He would swoop down near trees and pull off just one leaf in passing, holding it up in triumph and daring Harry to do the same. Draco looked very at home in the air... well, that wasn't surprising, was it? He'd obviously been flying since he was tiny, even if at first it must have been on toy brooms. But it meant that even when Draco was focused on racing Harry to the next hill, he seemed relaxed and at ease, much more so than Harry was accustomed to seeing him.
"We're getting near enough now that we should be careful," Harry called out as the buildings below started to appear in thicker and thicker clumps.
"Even Disillusioned?" Draco yelled back.
"It's not perfect invisibility. Better be pretty quiet, too." Harry flew nearer, nudging Draco's knee. "Muggles go a bit berserk if they start hearing voices out of thin air. If we stay this close though it should be all right to talk."
Still, Harry couldn't resist following the river, flying slightly behind Draco to watch him sail low above the water and then soar up to avoid the boats. They managed to get to Grimmauld Place without being seen. Harry hadn't been altogether truthful with Narcissa about the Fidelius charm -- most of his school friends had visited without incident -- but he also wasn't sure whether Mad-Eye had used any spells on the house specifically to identify the Dark Mark and keep Death Eaters away.
He had planned to invite Draco formally inside, to counteract any such charms, but as soon as they had dismounted their brooms, Draco strode over, grabbed Harry by the shoulder and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Couldn't exactly do that with my mum around," he snickered. Already rather stimulated by all the flying, Harry found himself instantly hard. He stumbled up the steps, holding on to both his broom and Draco, kissing him, and they were through the door before it occurred to him that no spoken invitation had been necessary.
"My room's upstairs," he said breathlessly.
"I imagine that means I should save the unpacking till later." Draco grinned back at him. "Although I should at least put the trunk down. Do I get my own room?"
"Kreacher will want to take the trunk and unpack for you anyhow," Harry mumbled against Draco's cheek. "And yeah, I chose a room for you, but, um, you can sleep with me if you'd rather. I didn't know what you'd want." He was trying to pull Draco's shirt out of his trousers and guide them both up the stairs at the same time.
"I'm definitely going to sleep with you right now... but whether I sleep with you is another question. Do you snore?" Draco snickered, sliding his hands under Harry's shirt.
"BLOOD TRAITOR! Disgrace to the name of wizard!"
Harry swore, and Draco yelped, "Circe's knickers, what's that!"
"Mrs. Black's portrait," said Harry grimly.
Turning, Draco squinted at the curtains that mostly covered the painting, then strode over and yanked them wide. "Listen to me!" he declared as Sirius's mother opened her mouth to scream again. "I am the son of Narcissa Black Malfoy, and you have no business speaking to me that way!"
Mrs. Black stared from Draco to Harry and back, and for a moment, Harry dared to hope that Draco had succeeded in shutting her up where all others had failed. Then she shrieked, "UNNATURAL FILTH!" and was off again, shouting insults until Draco had yanked the curtains shut over her and Harry had dragged him upstairs.
"Why haven't you put that portrait in the cellar?" demanded Draco.
"I can't get rid of her. We tried everything. Not just me, but Sirius and half the--" Belatedly Harry reminded himself that, no matter how nice things were between himself and Draco at the moment, Draco was merely relieved to have escaped with his life and his family intact. He had done nothing to earn Harry's trust about things like the Order of the Phoenix. Even if there didn't seem a need for secrecy any more, it wasn't Harry's place to tell. "Well, everyone we knew. There's a Permanent Sticking Charm, apparently. The frame won't budge."
"Maybe you're going about it wrong." Striding back downstairs, Draco yanked open the curtains over the painting again. "Mrs. Black!" he shouted over her rantings. "Why don't you visit my mother at Malfoy Manor? There's a portrait of your grandmother there -- I imagine that she would be delighted if you dropped in."
The scowl on the old lady's face diminished only slightly, but her voice was as moderate as Harry had ever heard. "Don't you know, you young fool, that portraits can only move to pictures in another house with permission, unless their own portraits are also there? I would have expected Narcissa Malfoy's son to be better informed."
Draco gave her a winning smile. "I'm extending the invitation. The portrait of Violetta Black hangs in the drawing room, and there are a number of other family pictures there as well."
"Foolish boy." She glared at him.
"You can assure my mother that I've arrived safely here; she'll be ever so grateful," Draco told her, and the idea of that seemed to do the trick. With a final mutter that cast aspersions on Harry's blood, sexuality, and taste in companions, Walburga Black turned and stalked out of her frame, to Harry's great relief.
"Amazing! No one's ever come up with a way to get her out of there before." He wrapped his arms around Draco again. "Now, where were we?"
"I was about to do this." In one smooth gesture, Draco slipped his hands beneath Harry's shirt, sliding the material up and over his head while managing to get the maximum contact possible between his palms and Harry's nipples. Harry shivered involuntarily, and Draco grinned at him as they hurried up the stairs once more.
"Are you cold? Perhaps we had better get you to bed." Grabbing his hand, Harry tugged Draco toward the bedroom he had taken over at Grimmauld Place. He was a bit nervous -- he was sure that Draco had a stunning suite in Malfoy Manor, perhaps it was just as well that he had not gone up to see Draco's rooms -- but Draco appeared to be sparing less attention to the decor than to getting Harry undressed. His free hand had come round and was unbuttoning Harry's trousers, causing Harry to trip as they slipped down.
Snickering, Draco caught him. "Careful. I'm not ready to get you on your back just yet." He pressed Harry up against the nearest wall and dropped to his knees. "Your pants are a bit tight, Potter." Draco tugged them down, licking the crown of Harry's cock.
Harry's head thudded against the wall and he whimpered at the sensation of Draco's tongue rubbing along the length of his prick. He'd been wanking to the memory of the previous time Draco had done this for the past week, but that was nothing compared to the reality of it. "Ahhfuckyes, ohgod," he gabbled when Draco sucked at the head, teasing the foreskin with his fingers. He looked down to see Draco's eyes shining up at him, and unsteadily he brushed back the hair from Draco's face.
The heat was building up inside him, centered on his cock, and Harry knew that if Draco kept this up he was not going to last long. He saw that Draco was pumping his own prick with the hand that wasn't wrapped around Harry's, and felt a sudden longing to taste Draco again, bury his nose in the thatch of pale hair that surrounded Draco's cock and smell the salty-musky scent there.
"Wait," Harry said with a groan, brushing his thumb over Draco's cheek. "Gonna come... want to suck you too."
"Bed," said Draco promptly, pulling his mouth away from Harry's cock and releasing his own, which stood dark and swollen against his pale skin. He let Harry help him to his feet and leaned in, crushing Harry against the wall, for one hard kiss, giving Harry a taste of his own cock from Draco's mouth, hot and slightly salty.
They stumbled to Harry's bed, Draco throwing aside the rest of his clothing on the way. Harry had an instant's vision of Kreacher coming in to clean up, finding Harry and Draco's things commingled... would he find this as unnatural as Mrs. Black did, was Harry going to have to work to put things right with the elf again?
But then Draco dragged him down on the bed and he couldn't spare a thought for anything but finding Draco's cock, getting it into his mouth before Draco made him come. He licked over the head, sliding the foreskin with his tongue as Draco had done to him, and when Draco cupped Harry's balls in his hand, Harry did the same to him. Draco made wonderful noises, moving his hips slightly to tell Harry to slide his lips up and down. Even at this angle where Harry had no hope of getting most of Draco's cock into his mouth and Draco had to arch his back to make up for Harry's smaller height, this was amazing.
As Draco flicked his tongue into the slit at the tip of Harry's cock, he also slid his fingers around the base and then behind, rubbing across the perineum, then gently touching the tight pucker of his arsehole. Harry imitated him and felt Draco's hole ease open slightly at the pressure, though without any lube Harry didn't try to push in further -- he wasn't yet sure that he wanted Draco to do that to him, in any case. Besides, the feel of Draco's lips and tongue were far too distractingly good. Harry moaned around his own mouthful, wanting to thrust his hips but not quite able to.
Heat surged through him again. Harry had enough presence of mind to let go of Draco's cock, sliding off it with a little pop, lest he bite down as he came. He couldn't help clutching hard at Draco though, with Draco sucking at him as if to draw out every drop of semen Harry could give.
Sweaty, triumphantly relaxed, he lay there panting for a moment until Draco nudged against him, hard against Harry's cheek, and said reproachfully, "Potter..."
Blushing, Harry turned his head and kissed the stiff shaft. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, turning so that he could take Draco back into his mouth. Now that he was no longer distracted by his own need to come, he could pay more attention to what he was doing, and he didn't have to stretch to keep his cock in Draco's mouth while he was sucking him. Draco let out a small whimper, as if he might be displeased about something, and tried to press down on Harry's finger again. Harry nudged at the hole, but it felt like he was forcing it, and after a moment he released Draco's cock again to suck the finger, which had a sharp musky taste.
Now his fingertip slid inside of Draco easily, and Draco groaned his appreciation as Harry took his cock back into his mouth. "Oh fuck, more," hissed Draco. Pushing in more deeply, Harry felt around until he felt the firm bulge of Draco's prostate. He rubbed his finger over it as Draco's cock twitched in his mouth. "That, fuck, oh, harder..." Harry almost choked as Draco's hips snapped, thrusting his cock to fill Harry's mouth, but when he tilted his head it fit better and Draco shuddered and then Harry's mouth was filling with bitter liquid.
"Ahh," Draco sighed. "Fuck. You're rather good at that." When Harry had finished swallowing and licked Draco clean, Draco reversed positions and crawled up so they lay face to face. "You're sure you didn't suck anyone off before me?" he asked, with a mischievous expression. "Or is it just innate talent with a 'wand'?"
"I think I'd remember if I had." Harry elbowed Draco, embarrassed by the compliment, but also curious. "How many am I being compared to, anyhow?"
"Oh." Draco gnawed at his lip. "Guess I asked for that, didn't I? You really want to know?"
Harry nodded, then shook his head. "Yes, but you don't have to say if you don't want." He nuzzled at Draco's neck, tasting the tangy salt of his sweat, listening to Draco's breath slowing. "I suppose it was other blokes at school, right? I wondered who else was queer... it's not something people talk about that much, just rumors." Harry recalled the whispers he'd heard about Terry Boot in Ravenclaw and Millicent Bulstrode in Slytherin.
"Um." Now Draco seemed hesitant, far more than he had about simply telling Harry a number. And Harry remembered that Draco had not spent the last year at school, either. He had been trapped in his own home with Voldemort and any other Death Eaters in attendance...
Abruptly Harry shuddered. Maybe that was why Draco thought Harry was good at this... maybe his other experiences hadn't been Draco's choice. "You didn't," Harry began, trying to think how to phrase the question. "He didn't make you -- do things, did he?"
"He?" asked Draco, confused, pulling back to look at Harry. Then his face cleared and he merely looked revolted. "You mean -- him? No! He thought sex was weakness. Kind of disappointed my parents and the Lestranges got married. He thought living forever was preferable to copulation and reproduction. He would never." But Draco bit his lip again, and Harry knew he'd guessed right about why Draco didn't want to answer his question. "A couple of the blokes I was with were at school. A couple... weren't. You knew about Finnegan, right?"
"Seamus?" asked Harry, astonished. "No -- I had no idea." He'd shared a dormitory with Seamus for six years and never suspected. Amazing that Seamus could have been so discreet; he wondered if Dean or anyone else had known. Rather than being jealous, as he had thought he might be, Harry felt relieved that Draco hadn't named some Slytherin he despised, even Crabbe, who was dead.
"Well, Finnegan is queer. But don't tell him I told you." Draco grinned a bit. Then the smile faded. "Snape was too," he said.
"What? Snape! I don't believe it," exclaimed Harry, remembering the memories he'd seen in the Pensieve. Snape had been obsessed with Lily Evans... he couldn't have been queer. Harry felt awkward about explaining that to Draco, though. "What makes you think he was?"
"What do you think?" Draco shook his head. "Don't be dense. Didn't you ever notice how he looked at some of the boys in class? Not that he ever did anything with a student." There was a note of mingled resentment and pride in Draco's voice. "I'm pretty sure of that... I tried. More than once. But he wouldn't touch me. It wasn't until after the end of sixth year," he closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, "when we ran for it, and it was obvious that I wasn't going to be going back to Hogwarts. I, um. That summer when he was at the Manor, I managed to get him off into one of the rooms where no one ever goes except the house-elves to clean, and begged him. I was nearly mad by then, with what he was making me do, and I trusted Snape at the very least not to tell anyone, even if he turned me down. But he didn't."
"Snape had sex with you?" Harry wasn't sure if he was disgusted or excited by the idea. His opinion of Snape had been altered so radically by the events of the past few months that he couldn't tell how he felt about the man at all any more.
"It took a lot of persuading," said Draco, a bit defensively. He took a deep breath. "Sorry you asked?"
"It doesn't make me want to stop having sex with you," Harry replied honestly. He felt faintly smug that Draco had complimented the way he sucked cock when Draco had done it with someone so much older and presumably more experienced. But it also brought up some unhappy thoughts. "Were you and he close? Were you upset, when he died?"
"Of course I was." Draco scowled, though the expression didn't seem directed at Harry. "Close? He lied to me, same as everyone. He saved me because Dumbledore told him to, and he slept with me because I begged him to, but he didn't trust me. I don't even know whether he liked me or just saw me as a pathetic extension of my parents and pitied me."
"Of course he liked you." Harry remembered Snape praising Draco's potions -- Snape had wanted the Slytherins to do better than the Gryffindors, but Harry didn't think Snape would have said anything positive about Draco's work if it hadn't actually been good. "Anyway, he hated me. He only tried to save me because of my mum." Now that he had this information about Snape from Draco, he was more confused about the man than ever. How could Snape have been in love with Lily if he had been queer? Or had he been so lonely he had only wanted her friendship? Suddenly Harry wished that Snape weren't dead, that he could confront his erstwhile -- antagonist? savior? whatever Snape had been -- and demand answers from him.
"Because of your mum?" asked Draco, not understanding.
Now it was Harry's turn to hesitate. "I don't know what you've heard about what happened, the night of the battle, about Snape's death."
"Not much," Draco admitted. "Just that the Dark Lord killed him, and no one found his body afterward. I know you lot think that one of the other Death Eaters destroyed it."
"Well, as he was dying, he passed on some of his memories to me, so that I could look at them in Dumbledore's Pensieve and see what he'd done, and why. Snape had... had known my mum since they were both children, they grew up in the same town, and he loved her. Was in love with her. Or at least, that's how it seemed to me, from how he acted, and things he remembered saying." It felt almost disrespectful to be telling anyone else this, but Draco clearly had cared for Snape... so Harry guessed Snape might not have minded too much, if he could have known. "Snape hated my dad, though, and since I look a lot like my dad, I think that was kind of adding insult to injury -- like I was living proof that my mum didn't love Snape back."
Draco was looking curiously at Harry. "I suppose that explains some things about how he treated you. I mean, you weren't anything like as good as Granger in Potions, but he acted as if you were as atrocious as Longbottom."
"He didn't really care what I thought of him. He told Dumbledore he only ever cared about my mum -- Dumbledore asked him right out whether he'd started to care about me and Snape told him he only cared about her."
"Did he actually say that?"
Well, no, Snape hadn't; instead he had conjured his Patronus, to show Dumbledore that it was still a doe. But it had certainly seemed that way.
"He did resent that Dumbledore treated you as a favorite," Draco said. "When Lockhart was picking people for the Dueling Club, things like that, he always told me that I had to outshine you, not because you were a Gryffindor but because you were Dumbledore's pet. I think he might have been a bit jealous." Harry was tempted to laugh, but Draco continued earnestly, "I can't imagine Snape would have admitted it to Dumbledore, but I doubt he would have died for you if he hated you. He must've seen something in you more like your mum than your dad."
Harry's eyes were stinging. He hid his gaze from Draco's, even though he had seen Draco cry twice now. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Snape's gone," he said gruffly.
Draco looked pensive. "Are you positive it wasn't someone from the Ministry who took his body?" he asked.
"All of the people on our side who died during the battle were laid out in the Great Hall... if it had been someone from the Ministry, Snape would have been there, too." Harry thought about it. "I mean, there were Ministry people under the Imperius spell, working for Voldemort, but I can't see why one of them would have been interested in hiding Snape's body."
"Well, why would one of the Death Eaters have done it?" Draco sat up, frowning. "It doesn't make sense. If he was dead, who would want to bother with either destroying or moving his body when there was a battle going on? It wouldn't have gained any points from him... he was practical in his own twisted way." Even now Draco avoided saying Voldemort's name, Harry noticed.
"What are you getting at?" Harry sat up too, staring at Draco.
"What if... what if Snape isn't really dead? What if the reason no one found his body is because he somehow survived and escaped?"
"I saw him die," said Harry. "His neck was gushing blood, his eyes went glassy... his thoughts were oozing out of his head. He died, Draco."
"How could he have passed on those thoughts to you if he weren't alive to do it, though?" Draco sounded excited. "The snake bit him, right? But Snape was really, really good with poisons... he must have known there was a chance of that happening, he would have had an antidote, probably even been taking it all along, just in case."
"No," Harry said with certainty. "He would never have taken that risk. If Voldemort had checked to see that he was dead but he hadn't died, then Voldemort would have had reason to doubt Snape's loyalty. After all he'd done to defeat Voldemort..."
"You were supposed to have died, and my mother lied about it, didn't she?" Draco interrupted. "The Dark Lord wasn't as thorough as he should have been -- he was too eager to declare victory, wasn't that the problem all along? And Snape knew him loads better than I did. I'm just saying, I think there's a chance."
Harry didn't know how to feel. Ought he to be jealous that Draco was so determined that maybe he could see Snape again? But the idea excited Harry too. He had so many questions he wanted to ask Snape now. "All right, then, suppose Snape could be alive. He'd have to be in hiding... how would we ever find him? No one's seen him, there aren't any rumors or anything. He must want people to think that he's dead. Wouldn't he be angry if we did figure out where he was?"
"Maybe, maybe not," said Draco stubbornly. "Depending on where he went, he might not know much of what's happened, though I expect he'd have managed to hear that your side won. It would be reasonable for him not to want to risk being tried by the Wizengamot, sent to Azkaban -- even if the Dementors are gone -- for what he did."
"If we found him, he still could be put on trial," Harry pointed out. To his own shock, he added, "But I'd testify for him."
"You would?" Draco's face lit up. "If you spoke up for him..."
"Wait, I think we're getting way too far ahead of ourselves here. We don't even know that Snape's still alive; we just have a suspicion that he could be." Harry lay back down and tugged at Draco's hand to pull him back to the mattress too. "Maybe it's worth thinking about. I managed to find the Horcruxes... with help, sure... but it would almost have to be easier to find an actual person whose identity you know, than an object about which you know nothing at all."
"There are ways to trace magic," Draco agreed, trailing his fingertips along Harry's skin. Harry shivered; they had been talking for so long that his cock had had time to recover, and was now reminding him that he was lounging naked on his bed with an equally naked Draco. Who had had sex with Snape, and instead of being a turn-off, that idea was somewhat arousing.
Glancing down, Draco grinned when he saw the effect his touch was having. "Got a bathtub?" he asked. "I was thinking I could get you clean and relaxed, and then I could show you the appeal of being on the bottom, if you were interested." Harry whimpered softly; his cock was definitely interested, even if he felt a bit nervous. Smiling again, Draco leaned over and kissed him. "Or we could take turns making each other come in the shower and save the fucking for later in the week. What do you think?"
"The bathroom's right through there," Harry said, sitting up straight and pointing with the hand that wasn't grabbing Draco's to tug him up. He had never taken a bath with another person and the concept had definite appeal. Somehow he hadn't expected Draco to be the sort who lay around talking and petting him in bed, or the sort who'd want to relax him in a tub before fucking him for the first time. He liked it. A lot.
"Does that elf of yours cook?" Draco asked. "Because if you don't have anything planned, I think we should go out afterward. See London a bit -- Muggle London, where we won't be recognized. I hear the service is terrible but the pies aren't bad."
Harry thought of all the places he'd heard about from the Dursleys but never seen -- the trip to the London Zoo had been a rare treat born of desperation. Hermione had visited most of it already with her Muggle parents and Ron hadn't wanted anything much to do with the things that fascinated his father. He'd never have suspected Draco Malfoy would be offering to take him.
"Kreacher cooks quite well, but I'm sure I could ask him not to have anything for tonight. Going out sounds fun." It was still only early afternoon. "Although before we go maybe eat a sandwich or something," Harry added, feeling his stomach rumbling a bit. "Was there any place in particular you wanted to go see?"
"The Tower. There are supposed to be ghosts there, my mother says." Draco's eyes gleamed as he turned on the water. "First things first, though. A relaxing bath and try something new, or a nice mutual wank in the shower?"
"The bath," said Harry, a nervous quiver in his voice.
"Splendid choice. And this is a wonderfully big tub," Draco said approvingly as it began to fill. He opened the wall cabinet and poked through it, opening bottles and sniffing at them. "This will do." He poured a stream of thick blue stuff into the water and immediately it foamed up, giving off a scent like warm pine needles and spice. "Climb in and sit in the middle... I'll get behind you."
Obediently Harry lowered himself with a splash into the water.
"Move up just a little," Draco told him. "I'm going to put my legs around... yeah." He began to knead Harry's shoulders, his thumbs digging into the muscles. "Do you like that?"
He liked leaning back against Draco, feeling Draco wrapped around him in the warm water, as much as he liked having his muscles kneaded. He was only just beginning to realize how little he had been touched all his life -- Ginny had taken hugs and pats so for granted that she had sometimes startled Harry in an unpleasant way, he was so unused to being stroked just for the sake of it. "S'good," he moaned softly, feeling Draco lean forward and slide his cheek against Harry's hair. Surrounded by warm water, his prick felt very hard again.
"You're still tense," Draco told him, splashing warm foamy water up his back and rubbing it in. "We don't have to have sex right away, you know -- we have all week, if you want to get more used to me first."
Was Draco laughing at him? Harry jerked his head around to look. It was hard to give up instinctive habits like that, no matter how much things had changed, in the world or between them.
Draco gave him a puzzled look, then looked a bit ashamed, as if he had guessed what Harry was thinking. "Yeah, might be better to wait. I don't want to fuck everything up again."
"Again?" What they'd done so far had been pretty much fantastic, in Harry's opinion. His head sank forward again as he tried to relax more.
"You know. The reasons why we hated each other until... well, I don't know when you stopped hating me. I guess I stopped hating you sometime during sixth year."
Presumably after he'd kicked Harry in the face. "About then, yeah. But I wouldn't say that it was all your fault either. It was pretty rude of me not to shake your hand right at the beginning, even if you were being a prat with all your talk about the right sort of people."
"We both did things that we probably shouldn't have," Draco agreed. He touched Harry's cheek with wet finger. "Here, look at me."
When Harry did, Draco stuck out his hand. "Draco Malfoy. Pleased to meet you."
Harry laughed and awkwardly turned far enough to shake hands. "Harry Potter. Likewise." Draco grinned back at him.
"Okay, turn back around again." He went back to touching Harry, rubbing at the knots in each muscle. "I mean it, though, there's no reason you should bottom right away, if you're not sure about it. I like it, a lot, and you might too, but it's your choice. Not every bloke does."
"I like..." Harry stopped himself. He had nearly said something soppy about how he liked having Draco touching him, and he doubted that Draco would want to hear that. "Well, I liked being on top, last time. That felt amazing."
Warm, wet hands slid beneath his arms, making him shiver, though Draco was still kneading his muscles. "We should do that again, then," Draco said with satisfaction in his voice.
"But I want to know... I mean, obviously you liked what you were doing. And I'd probably be better at it if I knew what it was like from the other side."
"That's true -- I think everyone fucks differently once he's been fucked," agreed Draco. His hands had come all the way around Harry's body and were rubbing his chest. "But I still say there's no hurry. If you like having your prick in me, and I like having your prick in me, then maybe when we get out of this tub, what we should do is put your prick in me."
All this talk was making Harry's prick very, very eager to do something, whether it was come in Draco's arse or in Draco's hand. He moaned softly. "Fuck -- I don't think I can say no to that."
"Then fuck it is," Draco snickered. He slid one hand down. "And I'd say you're quite ready, hm? In the water might be fun, but I think the tub would be a little hard on the knees and elbows."
"Whatever you, ohh, want." Harry gave another moan as Draco stopped touching his cock.
"Stand up, then," said Draco, suiting actions to words and grabbing a couple of towels as he stepped out. "I'll dry you off." He rubbed a towel quickly over his own body, then wrapped it around his waist. The bulge of his erection showed through the rough fabric and he gave himself a leisurely stroke, smirking at Harry. "Think maybe I'd better leave that bit alone, for now."
Draco dried Harry off, taking time to run the towel up and down his legs, though avoiding touching his cock and balls. Even so Harry felt as if each inch of skin that Draco rubbed was directly connected to his prick, and he was glad when Draco finished and started pulling him back towards the bedroom.
"Now the real question is, do you have any lube?" At the shake of Harry's head, Draco said, "Thought not. I brought some; it's in my trunk, though. Can you wait long enough for me to get it? Can't Accio with the trunk locked and I don't know whether your elf has unpacked it yet."
"I can wait," said Harry, again feeling rather as if Draco might be mocking him by implying that he was too eager... but perhaps that was just Draco's kind of teasing, not meant to be cruel? He returned Draco's grin uncertainly as Draco sauntered out, and took a moment to clean and straighten the sheets on the bed while Draco was gone.
Then he heard voices, and cringed. He had completely forgotten to speak to Kreacher after they arrived, and now that Kreacher had encountered a towel-clad Draco, things were sure to go badly...
But Draco returned just as Harry reached the door, grinning and holding the lube. "I met your elf," he explained. "He bowed and said it was an honor to serve the son of Narcissa Malfoy."
Harry's own smile vanished at once. He often allowed himself to forget Kreacher's role -- and Narcissa's -- in Sirius's death, for Kreacher had been loyal since Harry had learned of Regulus Black's fate from him. Discovering that Kreacher admired Draco's pureblood family served as an unpleasant reminder.
Draco's smile wavered as well. "He's a house-elf, Harry. He can't out you to the Daily Prophet."
"That's not..." Harry tried to force a smile back to his face. Likely Draco hadn't known about the plan to lure Sirius to the Department of Mysteries, where his own father had been arrested. "Kreacher and I haven't always had the best relationship."
"Well, he was very respectful about you. He asked whether his master required anything, and I told him that soon we would be requiring sandwiches. Was that presumptuous?"
"It's fine." Harry took a breath. "I'm sorry. It's something we can talk about another time."
Still looking a bit doubtful, Draco nodded. He unwrapped the towel from around his hips and, looking around, tossed it over the chair that stood against the wall. "Okay, then." As Draco hopped up onto the bed, Harry noticed again how thin he was, but forgot it as soon as Draco pressed up against him.
"The first thing to remember," Draco's breath was warm in Harry's ear, "is not to be stingy with the lube. In case of doubt, more is definitely better. Have you ever used it to wank?"
"No. Just, you know, spit. Or hand lotion." Harry blushed. He'd borrowed some from Hermione while they were searching for the Horcruxes, claiming that being out in the cold so much was making his skin peel away around his knuckles... which had been true, but he'd used more of it for other purposes.
"Lube is better," said Draco firmly. "Even for wanking, and definitely for fucking." He was rocking against Harry's thigh as he talked; feeling how hard Draco was made Harry want to fuck him that minute, but he waited to hear what else Draco had to say. "Slop some on your hands, and then do just what you did last time. Start off with one finger and stretch me a little, then add more."
"Should I be behind you again?" Harry wanted to be able to see Draco's face, if he could.
"Not necessarily." Draco grabbed one of the pillows and lay back on it, elevating his hips. He spread his legs widely, grasping the backs of his knees to hold them in the air, giving Harry a full view of everything between them. "Not the most dignified position, but it works."
Grinning, because it was impossible not to feel at ease when Draco was so comfortable with this, Harry squeezed out what seemed to him a great deal of lube and slid a finger down behind Draco's balls. Again the hole seemed impossibly tight at first, but the slippery fingertip slid in easily and soon Draco was pushing down against it, grunting encouragement.
"Second finger. You can stroke the backs of my... ohhyes!" It was hard, at first, to tell which faces Draco made because something was momentarily uncomfortable and which he made in pleasure, but that flared-nostril, open-mouthed expression was obviously a good one. He groaned eagerly as Harry stretched him, reaching down to stroke his own cock, which made Harry's feel like it was going to explode.
"All right. Get up here and fuck me." Rubbing slippery fingers around his cock, Harry shifted on his knees between Draco's legs, smiling back as Draco lifted his ankles up to Harry's shoulders. "You can get in deeper this way. But don't neglect my prick."
Harry sucked in a breath as he guided the head of his cock to Draco's hole, which stretched to accommodate him. The lube was sloppy but it felt good, too, warm and wet as he slid inside. Once he had, he paused for a moment and leaned forward, bracing himself with his left arm and reaching for Draco's prick with his right hand. Draco was still touching himself, but he let Harry close his fingers around the heated firm length and then showed Harry how fast and hard he wanted to be stroked. Harry was glad of the distraction; if he'd started to thrust into Draco's arse right away he was sure he'd have come within seconds.
A flush spread over Draco's face and chest. "Fuck yeah, that's right, now come on and move, Harry, I'm not going to break..." he gasped. "Love the way your prick feels in me, nice and big, come on, yeah, fuck me..."
Hearing Draco saying all that almost made Harry's cock convulse right then. Who'd have thought that the snooty pureblood would talk dirty in bed? Harry couldn't respond the same way, the words felt awkward on his tongue, and besides, he knew that he wasn't that big but supposed Draco meant it as a compliment, which pleased him in an embarrassed sort of way. So he just moved with as much control as he could manage, watching Draco's mouth open again and his head tip back as Harry's prick rubbed across his prostate.
"Harder," Draco moaned. "Gonna come, want to feel you come with me..." His skin was gleaming and the hair around his face had darkened with sweat, and he couldn't seem to close his mouth. Even so, he had surprising control over the muscles in his arse, squeezing Harry's cock firmly, then moaning like it gave him just as much pleasure as it gave Harry.
Harry's hand had sped up unbidden, probably rubbing too hard but he couldn't help himself. "Close," he groaned. "Oh fuck Draco can't wait!"
"Don't wait, come in me, let me feel your balls empty," gasped Draco, writhing, obviously enjoying saying the words as much as Harry enjoyed hearing them. Harry slowed, his orgasm now inevitable, and just as his cock began to erupt he felt Draco clench down hard, face twisted in pleasure, releasing hot spurts over Harry's fingers as they stuttered and squeezed around Draco's cock.
"Fuck," breathed Draco one more time. His eyes opened and he gave Harry a lazy, relaxed smile, then swiped his finger through his semen on Harry's hand and tasted it, sucking at the fingertip with a hint of a dare in his gaze. Harry's cock gave a final spasm at the sight. It seemed somehow more erotic to lick it up deliberately than to swallow because someone had come in your mouth.
If Draco had showed this side of himself to Harry back in sixth year... well. No use thinking about that. When Draco started to lift his legs up and off Harry's shoulders, Harry quickly twisted to help untangle them, and pulled his now-softening prick out of Draco's arse.
"That was really good," he said lamely, not daring to tell Draco that he'd especially liked the way that Draco had wrapped himself around Harry, that he'd felt, well, cherished was perhaps the word but it was far too emotional to use. Yet. Probably he was just imagining things. It wasn't as if he had that much experience; maybe any time people had sex, they felt like there was some kind of connection that was more than just the physical pleasure of it all, and if he said so to Draco he'd sound silly for believing it was real.
"It was brilliant," Draco announced, swinging himself around to face Harry as he settled on one elbow. "If you don't want to try being on the bottom, you should at least try coming with a plug in your arse sometime -- feels fantastic to have pressure there." He smirked, not at all self-conscious telling Harry how much he enjoyed having his arse filled.
Having grown up with Dudley, to whom "queer" was perhaps the worst insult in the world, Harry found it rather remarkable to discover that Draco was so comfortable with his sexuality. It made Harry feel loads better about what people at school might say; maybe most wizards weren't quite so prejudiced about this as many Muggles, even if it still wasn't something talked about too openly.
Grinning, Harry wriggled closer. There was a white streak spattered over Draco's belly, and he bent his head to lick at it, keeping his eyes on Draco who rewarded him with a shiver and a murmured, "Got a taste for it, now, do you?"
"Mm hmm." Despite their exertions, Draco still smelled like soap from the bath and something like rising bread, a good smell that made Harry's mouth water. It also reminded him that he was hungry. "Need some proper food first, but I want more of this later."
"Don't worry -- plenty where that came from." Snickering, Draco leaned over to pull Harry back up for a kiss. "Or will be again in a bit. Think that elf of yours has made us sandwiches?"
"I'm sure he has by now." Harry kissed Draco again. He wanted more of Draco's kisses, too, but Draco would be at Grimmauld Place for a whole week... there'd be time. His stomach gave a loud insistent gurgle, and Draco laughed.
"Okay. Let's eat and then go out. We're in London, Muggle London, on our own -- we can do anything we like, and no one to say no."
"Have you ever been out like that without your parents?" Harry asked. It wasn't much fun to do things alone, so he'd mostly kept to the house, with just a few ventures out by himself. He picked up the damp towel and wiped himself off, then tossed it to Draco.
"Well..." Draco hesitated, and Harry suspected he might not tell the entire truth. "A few times. Not much in Muggle places, though."
"I haven't either," Harry told him. "So that's all right." Pulling on his jeans, he added, "You'll definitely want to wear Muggle clothes. Should we stop in a bookshop and buy some sort of guide, or would you rather just explore? I'm pretty sure I can get us to the Tower on the Tube, but after that I don't know."
"Let's just explore. As long as we can find our way back tonight," Draco winked, a lascivious smile on his face. "Growing boys need to go to bed early, after all."