HP fic: Better Than Revenge, ch. 37: Behind a Rose Bush [Harry/Draco, adult]
Title: Better Than Revenge chapter 37, "Behind a Rose Bush" Author: celandineb Fandom: HP Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: adult Summary: The boys experiment with their Patronuses and play Gobstones for forfeits once again.
Harry had no time to think any further about Ginny, not when Draco's lips met his own and demanded his full attention.
"I think we're both in enough trouble on the whole that loving two people should be the least of your worries," said Draco when they paused for breath. He pressed the heel of his hand against Harry's cock, rubbing it through the fabric of his trousers.
"Maybe not." Harry was more than ready to acquiesce to Draco's suggestion that they shower together, the hot water and soap slick on his skin as Draco touched him, thrust between his thighs until they both came. Sweat and semen washed together down the drain, leaving no trace behind.
It was pleasant to share a bed with Draco. He spooned himself against Harry's back, warm and smelling of soap, holding Harry close in a way that made Harry feel relaxed and safe, not crowded or smothered as he would have expected. The only time he'd ever slept in the same bed with someone before Draco was with Ron, and that was a very different thing.
"What can we do to fill all those empty hours over the next few days while the potions are brewing, do you suppose?" Draco's fingers found Harry's nipple through his pyjama top, and Harry held back a laugh at the bluntness of the question, so untypically unsubtly un-Slytherin of Draco.
"We really ought to practice some hexes again, and counters for them... and you should work on your Patronus," Harry said, wriggling his arse against Draco's hips. "But I'd think we'll have time for other things, too."
"Like shagging?" Draco persisted.
"You think I'd turn that down? No more than you would, you prat." Harry spoke the insult fondly, and twined his fingers and Draco's together. Draco's breath was warm and rhythmic against his skin as Harry fell asleep.
In the morning Draco asked to borrow Hedwig to order the Cannons-Puddlemere tickets that he was giving to Hermione and the Weasleys. Harry fed his owl bits of bacon as Draco wrote, and then tied the parcel to her leg.
"Not too heavy for you with all those Galleons, is it?" Harry asked her, and Hedwig hooted softly, clicking her beak at them. "I guess not. Off you go then."
Draco looked wistful, watching her fly away. Harry was sure he knew what Draco was thinking.
"I wish we could go, too."
"You could go," said Draco. "It shouldn't be unsafe for you, and I expect the rest of them would like to have you along."
"No, that wouldn't be fair to you, I already said so. Someday, when this is all over, perhaps we can go see a match together."
"Just the two of us, without your friends, you mean?" Draco asked.
"If you like." Harry wondered why Draco's expression remained sad – surely that had been what he hoped to hear, that Harry wanted to go to a Quidditch match with him?
"Right, of course," said Draco. "Now that's done, I suppose we'd better check on those potions before we practice hexes or counterspells or whatever it was you wanted to do today."
Afterward they went out into the back garden. Harry thought of wizarding duels, and how he had organized the DA towards the end, and of the fight against the Death Eaters in the Ministry, and suggested that they practice as if it were a real fight, rather than warning each other which jinxes they were going to use as they'd done before. It was quite exhilarating, really, dodging around the unkempt garden, trying to evade Draco's spells and cast his own. He was sidestepping a Stinging Hex when he tripped over a statue half-buried by ivy and fell, too winded to get up again immediately. Draco lowered his wand, waiting for Harry to recover.
"No," Harry snapped. He cast a Body-Bind on Draco even as he was scrambling back to his feet. Walking over, he squatted down, catching Draco's eye. "Don't hesitate. If you spot a weakness in your enemy, you have to exploit it, or they'll turn the tables on you." Draco couldn't respond while the spell was in effect, so Harry added, "Finite incantatem."
"I know what I have to do." Draco sounded both pained and irritated as he stood, then turned and sat on a dirty marble bench, slumping forward with his elbows on his knees. "I just... I can't seem to think of you as an enemy anymore, even in pretense. Maybe it's the Vow."
"Do you think so?" Harry sat next to him. The marble was cold and uncomfortable.
"It's all I can think of. I'd better try to remember the exact words I said – maybe you can help, but I want Hermione to double-check, too. Otherwise I could make a mistake and break it by accident. I don't want to get it wrong, not with an Unbreakable. Magic like that has to be precise, like Arithmancy."
Had Draco meant to insult him by saying Harry wouldn't be much use? "If I needed Arithmancy, I'd get Hermione's help, or yours. So far I've managed to stand up to Voldemort without fussing about knowing all the theory behind what I've done."
"Yes, but it'll be not just him, but all the Death Eaters." Draco's face was pale, and Harry decided that he hadn't meant to be rude. "All of them," Draco repeated. The unspoken words, "Including my father," hung in the air.
Harry couldn't promise what would happen; he didn't know. They talked about it for a while, in a theoretical sort of way, what either of them might do if they confronted Lucius Malfoy in battle. For Draco's sake, Harry would prefer to spare Lucius if he could, but he hoped he'd never be in a position where he had to fight him at all.
"If he tried to curse me, and you were there – what would you do?" Harry asked.
Draco shifted on the bench and took Harry's hand, his thumb stroking Harry's wrist, his expression unhappy. "I don't know. That's why I need to figure out the exact wording of the Vow. Because I don't want to fight my father, not directly, but I have to protect you – it's my own life at stake too. If I break the Vow I'll die, and not in any pleasant way." He shivered. "Look, I don't want to talk about it any more just now. You wanted me to practice Summoning my Patronus, right?"
"Yes." Harry didn't really want to talk about it any more either. It was enough for the moment that they had talked, a little bit, enough so that maybe neither of them would do something that would prove unbearable. "Do you remember how to do it?"
"Expecto Patronum, and think of a happy memory." The corners of Draco's mouth quirked, and Harry wondered what Draco was thinking. "Is it always the same animal?"
"Generally. Occasionally it changes, if there's some big alteration in your life. Your cousin Tonks' changed."
"I don't think the changes in my life since I tried before would qualify as that big an alteration, so I guess it'll stay a badger then." Draco's voice held an edge of disappointment. "Oh, well. Expecto Patronum!"
There was a flash. As the shimmering form of the badger appeared, Harry shouted, "Oh, well done! First try this time!"
"What now?" Draco asked.
"You hardly need protecting from anything here, and it's obvious you have the spell down." Harry thought for a moment. "Professor Lupin hinted that a Patronus could be used to summon help, but I'm not sure how, or who you could send it to, to practice that."
"Not to either of my parents," said Draco definitely. "Maybe to Professor Snape, though."
Harry flinched, covering his shudder by running his fingers through his hair. Snape could be anywhere, even with Voldemort. "I'd really rather you didn't send it to him. How about me? I could go to the far end of the garden, behind a tree or something. Concentrate on needing me and see what happens."
"I think I can manage that," said Draco with a tiny smirk.
Harry snorted. "Wait till I'm hidden." He walked briskly along the path until he reached an overgrown rosebush tall enough to conceal him, and waited. It was only a minute or two before the glowing form of the badger appeared next to him, its great head nudging him out from behind the bush and in Draco's direction.
"It worked!" Draco was calling at him as Harry hurried back.
"I knew you could do it." Harry was almost as excited as Draco looked; he'd never done this with his own Patronus, after all, but had only guessed it could work from what Lupin had said. He gave Draco a swift fierce kiss.
"Although... if you didn't already know it was my Patronus, and where to find me – especially if you were miles away – how could you have figured that out?" Draco frowned in thought.
"Hm." Harry wrinkled his nose, wishing that Lupin had had time to teach him more than the basic summoning spell. "I'm not sure. It's not as if a Patronus can talk, it's an animal form, and not even entirely corporeal. But they seem to do a kind of Apparition. Maybe it could carry a written message? When a person Apparates he's not quite physical for a moment, but whatever he's wearing or carrying goes with him."
"Unless he Splinches himself," Draco reminded Harry.
"True, but that's the principle. We could try again and see if you can get your Patronus to bring me a bit of parchment."
"I think you should try it with yours this time," said Draco. "Just for a change. Do you mind?"
"No, we can do that," said Harry, surprised. "If you're sure you don't want to." Draco had done so well already; why would he be reluctant to try this next step? But it was clear that he was, for some reason Harry didn't understand and felt shy of asking about. Harry rummaged in his pockets and found only a stub of pencil. "Do you have a piece of parchment for a note?"
Draco shook his head. "Use this," he said, handing Harry a good-sized fallen leaf.
"What? Oh." Harry realized what Draco intended, and Transfigured the leaf into parchment. "Go on, down where I was before. I'll summon my Patronus, and see if it will take you this."
As Draco strolled away, Harry scribbled, Fancy a shag later?, folded the parchment, and held onto it with his left hand, his wand with his right. He thought about what happy memory to choose; there were a great many more of those now than when Lupin had first taught him the spell. Perhaps he would try the day before, when Hermione had been taking off Draco's Mark and used Harry's magic to amplify the effect. Harry fixed in his mind the joyful passion he had felt then, and said, "Expecto Patronum!"
The stag burst into being before him. Harry put his arm around its neck, as always marveling at the living warmth of a creature that nevertheless gave off a pale glow that seemed more suitable to a spirit. He held out the scrap of parchment.
"Please, I need Draco," he said. It was no more than the truth. He needed Draco's help and companionship; sex with Draco had been more amazing than Harry would ever have expected, but it was their unexpected friendship that was now more necessary. "Take this message to him for me, please?"
Blinking dark liquid eyes at Harry, the stag took the parchment delicately between its teeth and vanished again, only to reappear at the far end of the garden. Harry acknowledged that a better test would be to send his Patronus somewhere completely out of his sight, but this should be good enough for the moment. He couldn't actually see Draco, at least, even though he did know where Draco was.
He was distracted from such thoughts when the stag arrived before him once again, lowering its head to offer him the parchment.
"Thank you," said Harry gravely as he took it. He repressed a momentary urge to bow in the way he once had done to Buckbeak. "Not that I doubt it worked, but I'd better check to see if there's a return message, just to verify." He unfolded the creased parchment and read, Your arse or mine? Harry laughed and thanked his Patronus again.
"It worked," he shouted down the garden as the stag vanished. "It worked perfectly."
"I thought it would," Draco called back to Harry as he came running down the walk. "So, we've practiced the hexes as you wanted, and now practiced with our Patronuses – I'd say we've earned a bit of a breather, don't you think?"
"We should check on the potions before anything else. Isn't there one that needs to be tended to before dinnertime?" Harry laughed again at the disappointed expression on Draco's face. "But after dinner there's nothing much to do. We could always play Gobstones, or I think there's a wizarding chess set somewhere in the library," he teased.
"Prat," Draco breathed into Harry's ear, hugging him. "You know perfectly well what I meant." He emphasized the words with a nip at Harry's neck, and Harry's breathing quickened in response.
"Of course, but we really do need to deal with the potions," said Harry, slipping his hands down to squeeze Draco's arse.
"Humph. Fine. Just for that, I will play you Gobstones after dinner." Draco kept hold of Harry's hand as they walked back into the house and down into their makeshift laboratory in the cellar.
Harry called out, "We're back," to Dobby, whose "Yes, Master Harry, sir," came faintly in reply.
"This one needs shredded boomslang skin added alternately with powdered sassafras leaf every six hours for the next twenty-four," said Draco, reading the instructions in the book. Harry measured out the boomslang skin and Draco added it, counting to himself as he stirred.
"Ugh. That'll mean having to get up at least once in the middle of the night." Harry sighed. "Can't be helped. I never realized how long and complicated so many potion recipes were, when we were in class. I guess the ones Snape assigned were simple, or at least they were fast to make."
"They were that. Look, I'll get up too," Draco offered.
"There's really no need... but if you want to I'm hardly going to say no," Harry said. "How about the other potions in progress?"
"None of the rest are so time-sensitive. We can mix in the extract of hellebore now and just let this one keep simmering." Draco dipped a spoon into the potion in question, gazing with satisfaction at the way the purple goo dripped slowly back into the cauldron.
"How much?" asked Harry, opening the bottle of hellebore.
"A gill." Draco pushed a measuring cup across the table to Harry, who poured out the extract and added it to the cauldron as Draco stirred. "There, that's done."
"Mm hm." Harry replaced the cap tightly and put the bottle back in its place before moving behind Draco and wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist.
"We don't really have time, do we, before dinner?" Draco didn't move to push Harry away, however.
"I suppose not," said Harry with regret, standing on tiptoe to inhale the scent of Draco's neck and hair. "Unfortunately."
"When you've spent a month half-starved, you won't dismiss dinner so lightly," said Draco.
"I have done." Harry heard his own voice tighten with bitterness. "My aunt and uncle didn't treat me too well, remember?"
Draco turned around in Harry's arms. His grey eyes were dark and serious. "I'm sorry. I hadn't remembered." He brushed his lips over Harry's temple. "Sometime you should tell me more about what it was like, growing up with those Muggles. I'd heard about you from when I was tiny – everyone heard stories about the Boy Who Lived – but no one knew what had happened to you afterward except that you'd been sent somewhere safe to grow up in peace. I always assumed you'd have been a bit spoiled, treated as someone special. The way you acted at Hogwarts when we first met didn't do much to change that.
"Not fair of me, I know that now," he added when Harry stiffened and tried to pull away. "Don't be angry. I'm just trying to explain, that's all." Draco looked distressed, and Harry tried to iron the scowl out of his face. It wasn't really Draco he was angry at; he wasn't sure who it was. His parents, for dying and leaving him alone? Dumbledore, for choosing to leave him in Privet Drive? The Dursleys, for demonstrating their callous dislike year after year? Perhaps most of all, and most reasonably, Voldemort, for having set in train all that had followed? None of it was Draco's fault, though, and Harry recognized that in Draco's place he'd have probably felt the same.
Harry exhaled a breath he hadn't quite known he was holding, and let himself lean forward against Draco. A part of his mind still wondered that he felt so able to trust Draco; it was just a fortnight since Draco had found him in Godric's Hollow, only a little more than a week since Draco had taken the Vow, set against six years of enmity. But those six years had reflected what each of them had been taught and blindly followed in allegiance to their teachers – Dumbledore for Harry, his parents for Draco. Now they were both on their own and making their own choices. If those contradicted earlier patterns, that might well be for the best. Dumbledore had always said that Harry's great gift was his ability to love. Loving Draco meant forgiving him when he said something thoughtless or mistaken, didn't it?
All of these thoughts flashed through Harry's mind in the time it took him to raise his hands to Draco's head and tilt it down for a long and very thorough snog, one that left them both gasping and trembling, and Harry's glasses smeared and askew on his nose.
"Dinner first," said Harry, his voice husky with the effort of not rutting against Draco right then. He pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt with shaky fingers.
"Yeah," Draco agreed. His eyes were unfocused, his thin sharp face as soft and relaxed as Harry had ever seen it, even in sleep.
They hurried up to the dining room. Dobby had cooked lamb chops and potatoes, with sprouts on the side. Both of them took enormous platefuls – remembering how little he'd eaten with the Dursleys made Harry feel extra hungry.
"So, up for that game of Gobstones?" Draco asked, slicing off a bite of lamb and putting it in his mouth.
Harry dragged his eyes away from the way Draco's throat caught the light as he chewed and swallowed. "Gobstones? Oh, yeah. If we play for forfeits again." He grinned at Draco, not minding at all the thought that it would probably be Draco who would win most of the time. He ate quickly, not forgetting to thank Dobby for his hard work when he was finished, but eager to find out what Draco might have in mind.
"We could either play for forfeits as we did last time, or else strip – the loser each round could take off a piece of clothing," said Draco as they sat in the library with the Gobstones board set between them.
"Forfeits," said Harry immediately. Stripping might be fun, but would also take rather longer to achieve anything interesting.
Draco smirked. "Thought you'd say that. You can have the first move, if you like."
Moving first wasn't quite enough of an advantage for Harry to win the round. "What do you want as my forfeit?" he asked, spelling off the goo from his face and clothes.
Cocking his head to one side, Draco regarded Harry intently. "A blow job. Right here in the chair. Five minutes or until I come, whichever's first – I don't especially want to come that fast, though, not that I'll mind if I do or anything."
He stood up to undo his trousers and pull them down, then reseated himself. Harry knelt in front of the chair, resting his left hand on Draco's thigh and using his right to stroke the base of Draco's rapidly hardening prick as he leaned forward to take the head into his mouth.
The foreskin slid down easily under Harry's tongue, and he heard Draco say, "Oh fuck, yeah," as he drew the tip of his tongue around the glans and then into the slit, tasting the few salty-bitter drops there. Draco's hands touched his head, his ears, pulling his glasses away so that Harry could move closer, take in more of the pulsing flesh. He licked up and down the shaft, rubbing the base of it with his thumb, and Draco gave a whine from deep in his throat.
"Harder – don't tease," Draco growled, tightening his grip on Harry's hair, and Harry complied, sucking as firmly and deeply as he could without gagging, his hand moving with a slow yet heavy touch. He was so focused on doing his best at the still-unfamiliar task that he nearly failed to hear Draco saying, "Five minutes, Harry, you've paid the forfeit."
Harry gave a last slow lick to Draco's cock, then sat back on his heels and looked at it, so hard it was almost purple and shiny-wet with his spit. Draco's face was flushed and damp too as he looked down at Harry, holding out his glasses again.
"Another round?"
"Of course." Harry was hard too, and he had to adjust himself before he could sit comfortably. After a few minutes he gave up and took off his own trousers – if Draco could sit there and play half-naked, so could Harry. He wasn't really focusing on the game, but Draco must have been even more distracted, for Harry won the round handily.
"Your turn to choose my forfeit," said Draco.
Having Draco reciprocate the blow job appealed, but Harry didn't want to look as if he had no ideas of his own. He thought about it for a minute. Maybe... yes. He could ask, at least.
"We'll need lube for what I want," he said finally, and Draco's eyes widened.
"I'll get it." Draco pulled out his wand. "No, wait, I think the bedroom door's closed. Hang on a tick." Draco's erection had softened slightly during the second game but Harry still enjoyed the view as Draco stood up to trot out of the room. He was back within minutes with the bottle of gel they had used last night.
"Now, what do we need this for? I'm still a bit sore, myself, and I expect you are too."
Harry felt rather daringly wicked as he said, "I want you on my lap with my prick inside you for the next game. I won't move a lot; I don't want it to hurt you. Is that okay?"
"You kinky bastard," said Draco, but he sounded pleased rather than upset. "My back to you?"
"Yeah. Here, give me that." Harry took the lube and had Draco stand in front of him to apply it. He hadn't really looked all that closely at Draco's arse before, not with his glasses on, and found himself fascinated by the way the tiny pucker flexed and relaxed as he smoothed the gel on and slid his fingers in one by one. He moved them around, relishing the gasps and moans Draco made in response, before pulling out and saying, "Now, sit."
He guided his prick into the tight slick heat as Draco slowly lowered himself onto Harry's lap, and they both sighed when Harry was fully inside.
"Mm, good," said Draco, rocking just a little, and Harry agreed.
It was tricky to play this way, peering around Draco's torso and playing one-handed – the other hand was fully occupied with Draco's cock – but it was also wonderfully exciting. Each time Draco shifted, or Harry did, little thrills of pleasure shot through him, and he was sure that Draco felt the same from the sounds he was making. Before they were nearly finished with the third round they were both quite thoroughly distracted.
"Don't think I can play any more just now," Draco panted, trying to wriggle his arse further down onto Harry's prick.
"Me, either," Harry agreed. Draco was clenching around him rhythmically, making Harry feel as if he were thrusting although he was actually sitting still, just barely rocking his hips against Draco. "God – keep doing that."
"Like this?" The squeeze was even tighter this time, and Draco awkwardly turned his head so that their lips could meet.
"Yeah, just like that." Harry could feel his balls tightening; he moved his hand faster on Draco's prick.
Draco grabbed Harry's other hand and brought it to his chest, muttering, "Pinch me here, hard, like that, yeah, exactly like that," as Harry rolled the nub of Draco's nipple between his fingertips and pulled. Draco writhed.
"Fuck!" The scent of Draco's spunk was sharp as the wetness pulsed through Harry's fingers and over his own chest. His arsehole flexed and tightened around Harry's cock, and Harry came in jerky spasms as he cried out Draco's name.
Draco slumped back against Harry and gave a low chuckle. "Tournament-level Gobstones was never this fun."
"I wouldn't think so." Harry leaned his sweaty forehead against Draco's equally damp back. "Probably just as well."
They cleaned up – Harry insisting that even if house-elves expected to do such things, he wasn't comfortable with the idea – and headed up to the bedroom.
"Three hours till the next addition of sassafras," said Harry ruefully, setting the alarm.
"But then another six before the boomslang skin again, and that's not too bad," Draco pointed out, his words somewhat indistinct owing to the toothbrush in his mouth. "With two of us it won't take very long to do, and then that one will be ready to test tomorrow night or Wednesday."
"Yeah." A tingle of anticipation went down Harry's spine at the thought that maybe this trial would work and destroy the locket Horcrux. If he could get rid of this one deliberately, not like the accidental way he'd destroyed Tom Riddle's old diary, he'd feel a lot more confident about dealing with the rest. It might take some time, but that was all right. His friends would help: Ron and Hermione, Ginny too, and Draco. And then there was the Order, and the DA; even if none of them knew about the Horcruxes, it was a comfort to think that they were behind Harry, that all of them would be doing what they could against Voldemort and his Death Eaters and other supporters. Harry wasn't alone.
He crawled into the bed beside Draco, who moved closer, burrowing up against Harry's back and draping an arm over him.
"Harry." Draco's breath was minty and warm on Harry's skin, but he shivered a little nonetheless.
"What?"
"I'm glad that I'm here. With you. Not because it wasn't safe for me anywhere else," Draco spoke quietly, "or because you're a good shag, either. I'd just rather be with you than with anyone else at all."
"Me, too." Harry replied automatically, but it was true. Hermione and Ron had each other. Ginny... she was a good friend, and there was still an attraction there, he couldn't deny it, but whatever it was drawing him to Draco was stronger now than any tie to Ginny. "Me, too."