Title: Gimme Shelter
Author: kabal42
Characters: Harry/Draco, a Patronus
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Patronus!sex, promiscuous!Harry, top!Harry
Themes/kinks chosen: Charms, pairing: Harry/Patronus
Word Count:
Summary: Harry dislikes dates, but he knows they can further his cause and the cause is worth some sacrifices. But he needs luck and for that he needs some special charms.
Author's notes: This fic came to be after I was given a bunny. The name of the bunny was "Draco is Harry's charm". Well, that bunny changed the colour of its fur a few times. One reason it did was that I kept looking at the Harry/Patronus pairing and think: "But why? And how does that feel?" So, I had to try and find out. Sadly, the muse is a bit shy, but at least I got most of the information I was after ;-) As for what happened to the part about charms, well that's a whole other story and probably has something to do with the fact that I have mild OCD.

Thanks to elfflame for passing a bunny on to me. I am sorry to say that it mutated and grew into a horrible, glowing and fanged beast in my care *G* A special thanks for betaing this for me!
Thanks to Rolling Stones for the title. I felt that the theme of protection worked very well with both charms, Harry's rituals and the Patronus, so the title is taken more literal than to draw on the connotations of the original song.
Thanks also to the mods for letting me post on a different date ♥

Last, but not least: Happy Valentine's. As I live in a place where this still isn't observed that much (and since I habitually ignore it) I'd forgotten that this would be posted on Valentine's. Thus, it has absolutely nothing to do with the date!



Certain things in Harry's life had become ritualised. He wasn't entirely sure when it had happened, but it had started shortly after the war. Perhaps it was the emptiness, the lingering insecure feeling; he didn't know. But he had become dependent on doing certain things in certain ways – especially under some circumstances.

Like dating. That was a good example. He didn't like it, but he did it. For various reasons, most of which had very little to do with actually finding someone to love and more to do with gaining support for his political project of reforming the Wizarding World. It was a plan he and Kingsley had devised together when Harry had advanced to Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Basically, the plan was to use Harry's popularity for the common good; which, amongst other things, meant having him escort various people to various functions, sometimes followed by what often follows such things. That part, at least, was at Harry's discretion. Which was good because he didn't decide who the date was and there were certain people he would not sleep with for any good in the world!

The rituals were, he supposed, a kind of protection as well as a comfort. If he copied his actions from a good night, then perhaps he could invoke the luck he'd gained once again and have another success. So the routine adapted and expanded over time; from meaning that he'd shower and dress carefully to starting to wear the right kind of underwear (after Daphne Greengrass had proven very good company!), the right cologne (after Percy had blown him in the Department of Mysteries) and had progressed to doing things in a very specific order at the right time of the afternoon. Thank god he didn't date that often. It was bad enough with the everyday habit of warding the house and checking things before leaving.

At exactly 5:15 Harry emerged from the shower and rubbed himself dry, checked the mirror, gave up on his hair, trimmed his short beard, shaved where it wasn't supposed to be and left the bathroom. At 5:41 he was in his bedroom and exactly one minute later, the most important part of the ritual began. He was nervous tonight because the importance of the function would mean an important date: he had to be at his best and couldn't afford mistakes. Of any kind.

'Expecto Patronum.' The stag appeared, glowing blue in the semi-dark of Harry's bedroom. It greeted him by nuzzling his leg. Harry wondered if it knew or understood; sometimes it felt like the thing was more sentient than one would think. At least it didn't need much encouragement. It's nuzzles shifted from his leg to somewhere a good deal more sensitive and Harry gasped at the cool feeling.

He leaned back on his bed, closed his eyes and let the stag do its thing. Funny how ordinary it seemed now when the first time it had touched him there had been nothing short of startling. Also one of the weirdest fucking things to ever happen to him, and that was saying a lot. Having to cast that particular spell for communication in the midle of an intimate moment with himself had a rather unexpected result and this was the consequence. It had worked better than just wanking before a date and thus had become part of the ritual.

That was his last conscious thought before the touches drove any other from his mind. It felt somewhat like cold velvet enclosing and stroking his cock and by now Harry thought he might be addicted to the feeling. It was unique and bloody good! Only moments later, he was coming, biting his lip to avoid moaning; the last part due to years of boarding-school induced habit.

A few minutes later Harry sat up, a bit dazed. He could have sworn his Patronus looked smug. He shook his head against that thought and rubbed his eyes before petting the creature's head. It vanished before he was aware of having ended the spell. 6:03. Almost time.

With quick, precise moves Harry dressed in the right kind of underwear and socks, a t-shirt and a very nice robe. New one. Perhaps it would turn out to be a favourite and perhaps he'd never wear it again. That risk mean that the rest of the rituals were that more important. Right before he left, Harry grabbed the small rock from his dresser and put it in his left pocket. That one was the most important of them all: everything else could be a bit off as long as he had that one thing. Forget it and he'd have an awful night.

At exactly 6:24 Harry Apparated to his usual rendezvous point (Diagon Alley, behind Flourish and Blott's) where Kingsley would meet him with the contact information.

'Hello, Harry. Right on time as usual.' Kingsley was all smiles and Harry felt a little like kicking him. It was easy enough for him to smile, he wasn't the one going out with yet another new person, let alone one whose support was crucial to that major revision of Wizarding laws and practices they were working on.

'Of course. I always am.' Harry gave him an expectant look, a little annoyed that he would always be looking up at the man. At 28 Harry wasn't much taller than at 18. Not that he was short, just more like average, whereas Kingsley was tall and handsome by anyone's standards. If he hadn't been married, Harry would have made him do his part of this! Half the dates each would have been fair.

'Seems you're eager tonight,' Kingsley teased and Harry shot him a glare. 'Sorry,' the other added, 'I couldn't resist. Don't put that glare away, though, you may want it later. You're seeing an old acquaintance tonight.' He handed Harry a slip of paper and Harry, relieved that the moment had finally come, opened it.

Surprised, he looked up at Kingsley again. 'No name? Why is there no name here?'

'He insisted you shouldn't know till you were there.' Kingsley shrugged. 'I didn't think you'd mind.'

So it was a man. 'I do mind when you tell me half stories about glares and people I know,' Harry insisted. 'And it's a big party tonight, you know that! What if I fuck something bigger up because this guy and I don't get along?'

'You wont, Harry. I trust you.' Kingsley squeezed his shoulder. 'I'll be there too, if you need me.'

'Penelope coming too?'

Kingsley nodded. 'She isn't due for another month and she needs a night out to forget how annoyed she is about being pregnant.'

'All right. I'll see you there.' Harry didn't wait for Kingsley to leave, but Disapparated right away. He was feeling even more uneasy now.

- - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - -

The house was very nice; typical late-Victorian London style in darkened brick and with polished brass banisters and a ditto knocker on the door. No name on the door and the letterbox was clearly closed off, a common sign of Wizarding occupants, more specifically the kind who didn't care how they were perceived by Muggles. All of this pointed to one of the old families. Harry took a deep breath and knocked, squeezing the small rock in his left pocket, hoping dearly that this person wouldn't be too much trouble. He'd had enough of those lately.

When the door opened he thought the sinking feeling in his stomach might be his heart hitting his shoes. Because judging by who answered, this couldn't be any more trouble if it tried.

'Good evening, Harry,' said Draco Malfoy, looking completely unaffected by the fact that Harry knew he must be staring. 'The Minister did say you would be on time, but I confess I didn't quite believe him so I am not entirely ready. Come inside while I finish up.'

'Evening, Malfoy,' Harry croaked as he stepped inside. The cool, pleasant summer night suddenly felt stifling.

'Call me Draco. There is no need for excessive formality tonight. It is, after all, a date.' And damned if the man didn't wink at him!

'Have a drink, Harry.' Malfoy showed him into a very nice living room and indicated a crystal carafe of what Harry dearly hoped was something very potent. 'I will be right down.' Then he disappeared up some stairs and Harry sank into a large chair with a very large drink. Absurdly enough, his first thought was that if Malfoy wasn't ready yet, then Harry was a slob in comparison; the man had looked impeccable and very handsome! Bloody fuck. He gulped down his drink and contemplated getting another. This would be one hell of a night!

While he did appreciate that Malfoy had taken over from his father in many respects, including a good deal of lingering political power, and thus was an important ally, he had never thought Kingsley would leave it up to him to convince this man. Why not invite him to one of those private conversations at the Ministry that the family had always loved to brag about? Why this? Why him?

His thoughts were interrupted by Malfoy coming down the stairs again. His long hair was now pulled back in a neat pony-tail that made him look very dignified and the robes were clearly of an expensive design. As Harry stood up to meet him, he had time to realise that Malfoy looked a lot better than his father had; perhaps it was that he was less forbidding and that the arrogance was of a different brand. Before he could think anything else, Harry's well-honed dating instincts and habits took over and he offered Malfoy his arm.

'Shall we go, then?' Harry managed a smile that only looked part fake.

Malfoy took his arm with a slightly surprised smile. 'Will you do the honour of Apparating us there?' he asked.

'My pleasure.'

- - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - -

The dinner didn't in any significant way distinguish itself from any other of its kind. The food was good and plentiful as was the wine. The speeches had the quantity but not the quality and that was also as usual. A few of them mentioned Harry, a few of them toasted him, and a single one commented on his date. By then Harry didn't mind, partly due to the wine and partly to the fact that Malfoy was in fact very good company. He had lots of wit, a sharp and unforgiving sense of humour and seemed very intent on making this a good evening, though the reason why he would do something like that was beyond Harry.

It was the part after dinner that was different. Tonight's function was a benefit for a new ward at St. Mungo's. The Arthur Weasley Ward for Experimental Medicine had as its goal to test and improve on Muggle medicine and see if it could be used with traditional Magical remedies. It was an issue Harry had pioneered along with the man whose name the Ward now had. That was why he had to be amongst the first at the gambling tables when that part of the evening started.

'You know,' Malfoy said as he walked towards the tables with Harry, 'at casinos, men sometimes have beautiful women as their good-luck charms.' He grinned with such impudence that Harry laughed. He almost said I only see beautiful men here, so you will have to do but remembered he'd used that line on Benedict Bullstrode and that it would be far too cheesy for someone like Malfoy.

'I didn't know,' he said instead. 'But I have another kind of charm. Not that I would say no to extra luck...' He smiled at the man, hoping it wasn't too stupid a flirt and not too abrupt since he hadn't really been flirting before. But he had a feeling that Malfoy had been, just now.

Fortunately, Malfoy seemed pleased and squeezed Harry's arm. 'I'll give you as much luck as I can,' he said, his voice now dropping a bit in a way that made small hairs stand up on Harry's arms. Definitely flirting now.

As Harry slid into a seat at a Blackjack table he realised what this meant: he might end up in bed with Draco Malfoy tonight. The thought momentarily paralysed him, but then he felt the warmth of Malfoy's arm around the back of his neck as the draped himself across Harry's chair, sitting on the armrest and leaning on him, and Harry figured he could do a hell of a lot worse. The man was attractive and they were having a good night. He put his left hand on Draco's leg and ignored the wink from Kingsley at the other side of the table. No looking back. Go with it.

'Wish me luck, then,' he said and Malfoy leaned in and kissed Harry's cheek. His breath was hot against Harry's neck as he withdrew. It was enough to make Harry tighten his hold on Draco's leg where he would have tightened it around his rock for luck at any other time.

The next half hour passed in a rush. Harry was distracted by Malfoy's constant attention: gentle touches brushed against him, soft kisses for luck that moved from his cheek to his neck and the feel of the man's firm, slender thigh under his hand. Despite all of this, he just kept winning. He wasn't even trying to, it was a benefit, after all. You're supposed to lose and be happy your money goes to a charity. But Harry won. And won. And won. It was a rush, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It certainly didn't make him any less susceptible to Malfoy's touches, not when alcohol, winning and sexual innuendo were ganging up on him like this.

When he left the table amidst a round of applause he felt that there was no choice but to kiss Malfoy. After all, those men at casinos would have and Harry wanted to do it, more than he cared to admit. As soon as he did, Malfoy's body pressed against his and the kiss was returned with such passion that it almost took Harry's breath away.

'I think we should leave,' Malfoy whispered in his ear and Harry nodded, any residual resistance gone in a haze of kissing-induced lust.

'Yes. One second, though.' He left Malfoy's side for a moment and went to deposit his pile of jetons on the donation table. Before anyone could decide they needed to thank him properly for that, he took Malfoy's arm again.

'Where to, Ma-Draco?'

'My place.'

The sentence practically hadn't finished before they were there.

This time it was not the downstairs hall or the living room. It was what could only be Draco's bedroom. Huge, kept in dark, pleasant colours, with a huge bed with luxurious looking sheets. That was all Harry had time to register before he was pushed down on same bed.

Normally, the first time with a new partner is awkward. You fumble because bodies are out of sync and desires are unspoken, something Harry knew from lots of experience, but this was different. It was rushed and heated, but they moved together. Draco pushed Harry's robe up, kissing along whatever skin he had time to touch in his hurry, then pulled his own robe off and Harry couldn't wait but had to touch that pale skin right away. He rolled them over and now it was his turn to kiss along Draco's body. When he reached underwear he got rid of it and sucked Draco's hard erection into his mouth.

A loud moan confirmed the brilliance of that idea and Harry managed to get his own underwear off while still sucking on Draco, using every trick he had learned over his countless dates. Draco clearly approved; he was wiggling and moaning and his hands dug into Harry's hair to keep him there. Harry hummed, pleased he was making an impact.

'Oh, fuck! Stop! Harry, please, for Merlin's sake!' It sounded like Draco had suddenly discovered that he, too, had a tongue and could use it for this thing called words. Harry stopped immediately and pulled away.

'What's wrong?' He was a little concerned at the force of that sudden cry.

'Nothing is wrong. It's too good! I don't want to come till you fuck me.' Draco gave him one of those "you are clearly a moron"-looks Harry remembered so vividly from school, only this time it didn't hurt, it made him grin. What a compliment!

'That can be arranged,' he said, still feeling very smug, and sat back, kneeling between Draco's legs. 'Got any lube?'

Draco reached out with complete and unerring certainty and picked up a bottle that he evidently used often, judging by the fact that he didn't take his eyes off Harry as he retrieved it. 'Here. Don't you dare tease...'

Harry grinned again. Draco sure as hell knew how to make a man feel desired and Harry readily admitted that the flattery worked. He'd barely pressed fingers into Draco before there was a hand on his shoulder.

'Enough.' Draco's voice was strained and Harry looked up, questioningly.

'You sure? I only just-'

'Yes, I'm sure! Fuck me!' There was such need burning behind Draco's eyes that Harry felt his cock twitch as he looked into them.

He didn't see any need to wait and when Draco pulled his legs up, Harry thrust in. The heady feeling of being inside someone was enhanced by Draco crying out in sheer pleasure. It only got better when Harry started to move and really fuck him, because Draco grabbed hold of Harry's arms and clung to him with unexpected force, pulling when he wanted more. And he wanted a lot more. It felt like only a few seconds before Draco was coming, making a keening sound that caused Harry to thrust even harder, and moments later he came, too, with a force that made him shudder against Draco.

A few minutes passed in which neither man moved and then Draco let out a deep, content sigh and ran a gentle hand through Harry's hair.

'Your beard is scratching my chest.'

'Sorry.' Harry tried to move, but was held in arms as insisting as Draco had been all night.

'It's not that bad.'

Harry made up for it by stroking his side and Draco sighed again.

'Was I better than your usual charm?' he asked.

'Way better. And a lot more fun as well.'

'What is the usual one anyway?'

'It's a rock. A very special one. From the house I was born in.'

'Really?' Draco looked down at him and Harry up. Their eyes met again and there was something very soft in Draco's, something Harry honestly had never seen in him before.

'Yes. Really.'

There was no answer this time, but a very soft kiss landed on Harry's forehead. It was warm and tender and Harry felt like it was melting something in him that he didn't know had frozen.

'I think you need a new one,' Draco whispered and as Harry tightened his arms around him in return he secretly agreed. He would not throw his rock away, he needed it, but it clearly worked far better with Draco there. Perhaps it was time to change some rituals.