FIC: Benevolence (Part Seven)
Nov. 2nd, 2011 08:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesHi everyone! I'm aliiiiiive! Sorry this chapter has taken so long! I spent one weekend visiting my mum (during which I discovered she actually READS my fics, so that was a bit of a O_______O moment, but I digress) and then last weekend was spent snogging pretty much ALL of my friends at the lovely Halloween party thrown by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
girljim and her excellent hubby, so that was brilliant but not conducive to writing ALL THE THINGS.
Anyway, this fic still refuses to actually END, so there will be MOAR. On to the fic! Please to be pointing out errors, since I did not actually read it over this time and probably called Kingsley "Kingsby" or something by mistake.
~~~~~
Harry shook off the last vestiges of sleep and a pleased sigh escaped him at the feel of a hand curving over his hip and moving downwards in a soft caress.
He rolled over to give it better access to the area he most wanted touched. Fingertips pushed into his pubic hair and Harry’s eyes snapped open at the realization that he was not dreaming.
Grey eyes met his and a lazy smile curved Draco’s lips. “I see you’re finally awake,” he said.
“Not quite,” Harry replied. “Perhaps you should keep on with what you were doing?”
Draco’s fingers moved again, back towards Harry’s hip, and when they reversed to glide back in the direction of Harry’s cock, Draco’s lips followed, pressing a line of soft kisses into Harry’s skin.
Oh god, was he going to—?
Fingertips skated lightly over Harry’s cock and then lifted it, just enough to give Draco’s mouth access. Harry nearly arched off the bed with delight. No one had ever… He’d had hopes of coaxing Ginny into it, eventually, of course, but he doubted she would have been so… Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and his fingers clenched in the sheets. “So good,” he murmured and it came out as a moan when Draco’s tongue curled around his cock and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked. Draco’s movements held the certainty that he knew exactly how it felt, and there was no hesitation.
The angle was awkward and after a moment Draco released him only to climb over and settle himself between Harry’s legs. Draco’s eyes met Harry’s for a moment and a self-satisfied smirk curved his lips before they wrapped around Harry’s cock again. Harry had thought it good before, but he had been unprepared for the brilliance that came next.
He did not last long under the onslaught of lips, tongue, and hands. When Draco’s saliva-slick fingers slipped past his testicles to tease at Harry’s sensitive pucker, he lost it completely, pumping into Draco’s mouth so hard he thought Draco would surely choke.
“Oh god,” Harry breathed for possibly the hundredth time in as many breaths.
“Well, I knew I was good, but you need not start worshipping me,” Draco said teasingly and kissed his way up to Harry’s navel, where he dipped in a warm tongue.
“Too late,” Harry said. “I’m already prepared to set up a shrine and begin sacrificing virgins.”
Draco chuckled. “Good luck finding those. I think you are the last.”
Harry pulled his hair and then used his grip to tug him forwards into a kiss. Draco’s mouth tasted slightly bitter with the residual flavour of Harry. That and the hardness against his skin reminded him that Draco needed a seeing to. He broke the kiss to ask, “Do you want me to—?”
As he spoke, he reached down and wrapped his hand around Draco’s hard length.
“Bloody hell, yes, I want you to. But I’m not sure I can last that long.” Draco’s voice was low and husky and he groaned and thrust into Harry’s hand.
“Lift up,” Harry said and began to scoot down. Draco caught his meaning immediately and straddled him as Harry moved lower and lower, until Draco’s cock hovered directly over his lips.
It should have been intimidating, his first time taking a man’s cock into his mouth, but the primary emotion Harry felt was eagerness. He wanted this; he wanted to take Draco in completely, and his mouth watered as he opened up and used his hand to guide Draco’s length over his tongue.
A not-pleasant taste hit his senses, precursor of what was to come, but he braced himself. If Draco could swallow, so could he. The wayward thought was forgotten a moment later, when Draco made a rumbling, sexy sound that fuelled Harry’s need to please him. Trying to remember every nuance of what Draco had just done to him, Harry set to work with his tongue and fingers, striving valiantly to keep his teeth out of play.
“Harry,” Draco groaned. “Oh.”
The single syllable spurred him on. Draco’s cock slid in and out of his mouth as Draco rocked his hips. He so obviously tried to keep from gagging Harry by not thrusting too deeply that Harry had to lift himself up a bit in order to take him in, willingly choking himself in order to accept as much as possible. He was almost frantic with the need to take more. If he hadn’t just come, he knew he would have been hard again almost instantly just from the sensation of being taken, of being orally fucked. The smell and taste and feel of Draco nearly overwhelmed him and each sensation was heightened by the not-quite-stifled sounds of pleasure.
“Harry, you might want to… I’m about to—:
Pleased by the warning and somewhat amused that Draco obviously expected him to pull away, Harry took him even deeper and followed Draco’s previous gesture by stroking over the tantalising gathering of flesh that gave rise to a dozen future fantasies. Draco quivered at the touch and seemed to explode all over Harry’s tongue.
He valiantly swallowed as much as possible and strove not to gag; that would be horrifically embarrassing; but he hoped to hell the taste eventually became tolerable.
Draco pulled away almost immediately and shifted down to gather Harry into a tight embrace. “Your first time?”
“Was it that obvious?” Harry asked and cleared his throat when he found his voice rasping slightly.
“Not at all. You’re a quick study. And swallowing? I’m very impressed.”
Despite his teasing tone, Harry felt a swell of pride. He had survived his first blow job and received a high compliment. With a very contented Draco in his arms, Harry felt that all was right with the world. He thought about drifting off to sleep to savour the blissful emotion, but he felt too charged with energy, despite his recent exertion.
Draco seemed more than willing to doze back to sleep, however, so Harry ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead before easing out from under him.
“Go to sleep. It’s still early. I’ll make breakfast when you wake up.” Harry lifted the blankets and tucked them around Draco, whose brow smoothed when he smiled; he didn’t bother to open his eyes. Harry grinned, picked up his wand, and went to locate his glasses.
Sometime later, Harry was in his workshop spelling glittering bronze dust over the black scales of his latest dragon when he felt a hand snake around his waist. Draco pressed up against his back and nuzzled into his neck. Harry leaned into him with a pleased groan.
“Mmmm, good morning,” Harry said and dropped one hand over Draco’s to give it a squeeze.
“What is that one called?” Draco asked.
“Topaz.” The orange-yellow stones had looked brilliant against the bronze and black.
“Why don’t you have one?”
Harry glanced at the shelves full of assorted dragons. “I don’t know. I guess because they are all mine to start with.”
“That makes sense,” Draco said and kissed Harry’s neck again. Harry decided he really liked being touched so intimately; he wouldn’t have expected Draco to be a cuddler; it was a lovely revelation.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, but I think I’ll go home and change first.”
“But I like you the way you are,” Harry said.
Draco snorted, but his arms tightened around Harry and his nuzzling turned into a gentle nip. “Funny. I’ll be back soon.”
Harry turned and gripped Draco’s shirt, suddenly afraid that if Draco left he wouldn’t return. Their lips met and his pulse raced with something other than fear. Draco seemed to sense his anxiety and his fingers clenched more tightly against Harry for a moment.
“I’ll be back,” Draco repeated against his lips, and then he turned and left the workshop. Harry stared after him in bemusement and wondered just when in the last few days he had become helplessly smitten.
He turned back to the black dragon and tried to focus on the bronze dust instead of replaying the night over and over, but he soon discovered it was possible to do both at once.
~~**~~
Draco returned thirty minutes later. Harry had given up on working and made a pot of tea before taking a critical look at his pantry. Despite his intention to feed Draco a hearty breakfast, he had precious few ingredients to prepare a culinary masterpiece. He wondered if Draco would be put out to find a note awaiting him on his return.
Sorry, Draco, I went to the market. Please sit tight.
Harry snorted. That would not go over well.
Despite Draco’s reassurances, Harry felt a tiny burst of relief when the fireplace flared to disclose Draco, obviously freshly-showered and meticulously dressed. Harry was suddenly cognizant of his own appearance; yesterday’s jeans and a t-shirt he had snagged from the folded-but-not-put-away pile on his bedroom chair.
To Harry’s surprise, a house-elf accompanied Draco.
“Got it, Dropsy?” Draco asked.
The house-elf nodded. It had bulbous eyes and a squashed nose. “Yes, Master Draco, sir. Dropsy will be bringing it now, sir.” With that, it disappeared.
“Dropsy?” Harry asked and took a moment to reassess—he had assumed Draco meant to return to the boarding house when he had mentioned going “home”, but obviously he had referred to Malfoy Manor. Not for the first time, he wondered what Draco’s parents thought of his Muggle-assisting hobby, or even if they knew at all.
“The clumsiest house-elf in existence,” Draco explained. “But he’s good with direction and will lead the others here.”
Harry stopped admiring Draco’s snow-white jumper and smoke-grey trousers in order to register the statement. “Others?”
As if the word had opened a door, house-elves began popping into the room. Each of them bore a dish: silver trays with bright lids, delicate porcelain plates, and even a basket that seemed to have been woven of crystal. Every dish contained some form of food and soon the kitchen was full to bursting with delicious scents.
“I owed you a meal,” Draco said to Harry’s bewildered look. “And since I don’t cook…”
When each dish was on the table, the house-elves vanished, but for Dropsy, who waited nervously near the fireplace; he had stayed well back from the others. “Will Master Draco be wanting anything else?”
“No, thank you, Dropsy. Well done.”
The house-elf bowed low and disappeared. Harry stared at the food on the table to avoid showing surprise at Draco’s treatment of the house-elf. Harry had not expected the same dreadful treatment as that Lucius Malfoy had meted out to Dobby, but even so the courtesy was unforeseen.
“It looks delicious,” Harry said. “Thank you.”
Draco gestured towards a chair and Harry quickly sat down. He was famished, having been awake and working for hours with nothing more than a cup of tea to sustain him. After a moment of hesitation, Draco pulled out the chair next to Harry’s and sat down. Harry instantly took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
Harry ate with gusto, but after a time he noticed Draco was not as enthusiastic, nibbling a bite now and then, but mostly pushing the food around on his plate in a pretence of eating.
“Don’t be worried,” Harry said finally.
Draco’s fork stilled partway through the motion of sliding a bit of sausage beneath a corner of his toast. “I’m not worried,” he replied.
Harry lifted a hand to touch Draco’s chin, gently urging his face around until his eyes met Harry’s. “It will be all right,” Harry said with feeling.
Draco opened his mouth as if to make an angry retort, but then he looked away and let his fork fall to the plate. He picked up his teacup with controlled nonchalance. “I’m sure it will,” he said curtly.
“Don’t do that,” Harry said.
“Do what?” Draco asked, seeming to drape himself in a layer of coldness.
“Don’t shut me out,” Harry whispered, suddenly aching and feeling a chasm widen between them, even though they were mere inches apart. “Not after…” He swallowed and looked down at his plate, suddenly wondering if the night they had spent together meant nothing to Draco, after all. Perhaps Harry had been deluding himself into thinking there was more between them than there really was.
“After what?” Draco asked and Harry’s heart gave a lurch at Draco’s tone; it was not cold, but tentatively questioning, as if he were genuinely curious.
Harry shot a sidelong glance at him. “After last night,” he blurted. “And don’t accuse me of acting like a romantic Hufflepuff, because you know damn well how I feel about it. And don’t tell me I only feel this way because it was my first time with a man.”
There was shocked silence for a few heartbeats and then Draco whispered. “All right.” He bit his lip and then threw Harry a wry smile. “I’m not very good at letting people in.”
Harry smiled back and allowed the knot in his chest ease slightly. “I’m not very good at giving up.”
Draco snorted a laugh. “Thank Salazar for that or we would all be in trouble.” He picked up his fork again and stabbed another sausage. Harry watched as he dragged it through a dollop of jam and then Draco sighed heavily. “They are going to refuse. They will refuse and I will go to Azkaban and never see Daisy again.”
Harry placed a hand on Draco’s back, hoping to soothe even though he was probably rubbish at it. “You are not going to Azkaban and you will see Daisy again. Even if they refuse.”
“They’ll refuse. It was too unexpected and too rushed. I gave them one night to decide the fate of their granddaughter. Of course they’ll refuse. They don’t even know me.”
Harry rubbed small circles over Draco’s back. “They seem to know you quite well, actually.”
Draco pushed the sausage from the fork with a sharp movement and then began to cut it into small pieces with the tines. “They don’t even know I’m a wizard, Harry.”
“Being a wizard is only part of who you are, Draco. It’s not the most important thing.”
Draco stopped massacring his sausage and stared at Harry with an “are you mad?” expression.
“I’m serious. Who you are is what counts, and Daisy’s family knows that you are kind and generous, and caring and…” Harry trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at listing Draco’s good qualities after already admitting to his earlier feelings. “God, I do sound like a Hufflepuff.”
Draco was silent and then he said quietly, “I heard what you said. At Daisy’s house, when you said you only wanted me to be happy.”
Harry’s hand stilled and he tried to recall how lovesick he might have sounded during the conversation with Daisy’s grandmother. “Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Yeah, I meant that.”
Draco turned and looked into Harry’s eyes for a single, searing moment before he leaned forward and pulled Harry into a bruising kiss.
Twenty minutes later, they were still kissing and Draco had worked his way into Harry’s lap, straddling him and the chair both while wrapping around and practically through him, judging by the way Harry’s bones felt like liquid.
The fireplace gave a whoosh and then someone squeaked. Harry pulled his lips away from Draco’s with effort in order to look at Hermione, whose eyes darted around the kitchen trying to fix on anything but them. Her cheeks flamed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll just—I can come back later!”
“Wait!” Harry called before she could depart. Despite the fact that Draco’s weight was warm and wonderful, and their erections had been grinding together most pleasantly, they did not really have time for distractions. “We were just…”
“I think she can see what we were just, Potter.” Draco’s voice was tinted with amusement.
“Shush, you,” Harry admonished and gave Draco’s pert arse a pinch. “Did you find something else, Hermione?”
“Not really, but I thought it would be prudent to come up with a contingency plan, in case Daisy’s grandparents refused.”
Draco stiffened instantly and all the pleasant relaxation Harry had worked into him disappeared. Harry sighed, knowing it had to happen eventually; at least they had achieved a pleasant interlude before reality returned.
“You’re right,” he said as Draco climbed out of his lap. Hermione’s presence had been a distinct mood killer and they could both move without embarrassing themselves.
She sat down at the table and filled a plate with their forgotten breakfast. “This looks delicious, Harry. I see you outdid yourself.”
Harry silenced Draco with a look, having no intention of allowing them to squabble over house-elf rights, not today. “Thank you, Hermione,” he said quickly, “What do you have in mind?”
Draco only snorted and let his hand rest on Harry’s thigh.
~~**~~
Two o’clock came both too quickly and with agonizing slowness. Draco’s nervousness displayed itself by his increasing tendency towards sarcasm and biting comments. He and Hermione finally got into a shouting match over the ethics of using tropical bird feathers for quill material—how they had got to that argument, Harry had trouble recalling.
Hermione had finally stormed to the Floo and gone home. Draco had looked apologetic but defiant, and Harry had only shaken his head, secretly thinking it had done Draco some good to blow off steam.
Draco had gone home to change (again) and Harry had showered and agonized over his own wardrobe before Draco had returned and taken charge, pulling out a pair of dark trousers and a blue shirt with a peacock motif that Harry did not remember owning. He pulled it on anyway, thrilled at the way Draco’s eyes lit up when they watched him.
Draco also spent some time on Harry’s hair before pronouncing it suitable for public consumption, whatever that meant, and then they were ready to go. Draco’s hand found his for a moment and he squeezed.
“Don’t worry,” Harry said.
“Not worried,” Draco lied and released his hand.
~~**~~
Much later, Draco sank down heavily on a stone bench and put his head between his knees. Harry was instantly beside him.
“Hey! What’s wrong?”
“I’ve adopted a child. I’ve adopted a Muggle child. My parents—my father—is going to kill me.”
“You didn’t exactly adopt her, Draco,” Harry said, trying for rational despite the spike of abject terror that speared his midsection at the thought of Lucius Malfoy. Apparently he was not aware of Draco’s philanthropy towards select Muggles.
Draco lifted his eyes to where Daisy was chasing a flock of pigeons across the grass, apparently homing in on their fluttering wings and laughing when she tried to catch one. “By wizarding law, I might as well have. When her grandparents die, she will be mine to care for. I can barely care for myself! How am I going to take care of a child?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Harry assured him.
Draco’s gaze snapped back to him and then a reluctant-looking smirk twisted his lips. “You’re pretty confident of yourself, Potter.”
“Determined,” Harry corrected with an answering grin.
Draco let out a shaky breath. “All right. I suppose I will deal with my father after we’ve met with Shacklebolt to see if I’m yet to be tossed into Azkaban.”
“You won’t be,” Harry said confidently.
“Daisy, if you catch one of those filthy birds, I am taking you to hospital for detoxification!”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What does that mean?” she demanded.
“Let us simply agree that you won’t like it,” he warned.
She pouted. “I will stop chasing them for a lollipop.”
“Bloody Slytherin minx,” Draco muttered.
“I can’t imagine where she learned that sort of behaviour,” Harry said dryly and Draco jabbed him with an elbow.
“Fine, but we need to go now, because Harry and I have a meeting to get to.” Draco got to his feet and then shot a look at Harry. “Not a word from you, either.”
“Can I have a lollipop?” Harry asked with a grin.
“I have something better for you to suck on,” Draco assured him in a low murmur, causing Harry’s cheeks to heat with a heady rush. He was suddenly glad that Daisy was blind.
“I can’t wait,” Harry replied and Draco’s answering blush was a lovely sight to see.
~~**~~
Their meeting with Kingsley was almost anti-climactic. The Minister reviewed the paperwork while glancing from Harry to Draco, and then Ron and Hermione, who had (not surprisingly) showed up to lend moral support. Harry felt a rough surge of pride for them both, knowing they were still perplexed by Harry’s relationship with Draco, and yet still willing to stand beside him through whatever came.
“You have some powerful friends, Mr Malfoy,” Kingsley said at last. “I hope you do not take them for granted.”
Draco glanced at Harry and then away. Pink tinted his cheeks for a moment and he shook his head. “I don’t, Minister. I am… very appreciative.”
Hermione preened, obviously sensing it was as near to a “thank you” that she was likely to receive from Draco, but Ron snorted. Draco glared at him. Harry grinned, knowing all was right with the world, especially when Kingsley sighed and said, “This is a bit unorthodox, but since you have declared this young girl as your sole heir, she is exempted from much of the law in regards to the Secrecy Statutes. However, the fact remains that a magical item was spotted in a Muggle public place, which requires a penalty, although we will obviously waive the necessity of Obliviation. I hereby assess a fine of one hundred and fifty Galleons and urge you to take necessary precautions in the future, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco’s shoulders visibly relaxed in relief. “Thank you, Minister. I will.”
“That will be all for now, Denise,” Kingsley continued. The Undersecretary nodded, smiled at Harry, and went out. “Now, Mr Malfoy, I must ask, does your father know about this?”
Draco shook his head. “I was hoping to contain it a bit longer,” he admitted.
“Well, Denise is trustworthy, but the record clerks are not. The moment Denise files that report, I have little doubt there will be a flurry of owls sent to the Daily Prophet. I predict you have until tomorrow morning, at best.”
“Thank you, Minister. I will be off to… lessen the blow, if that is possible.”
They filed out of Kingsley’s office and Harry gave Draco a searching look. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Draco shook his head. “Thank you, but I think I’ll save that revelation for another day. My mother would see through our… relationship… in a trice.”
Harry nodded.
“I’m not ashamed of it,” Draco assured him quickly.
The statement made Harry smile and he said, “Good. I’m not, either.” He drew Draco into a kiss, despite the fact that they stood in a potentially busy corridor outside the office of the Minister for Magic. Ron coughed and Draco blushed, but when Harry pulled away he saw only an octogenarian witch hobbling along the hallway with a fat dog clutched in her arms. She paid them all no mind whatsoever and seemed to be having a serious conversation with the animal.
“I’ll be in my workshop,” Harry continued. “You can Apparate straight there, if you need to.”
“Thanks,” Draco replied. His grey eyes were warm as he silently acknowledged Harry’s admission that the wards around Grimmauld Place had been permanently altered to allow Draco access.
girljim and her excellent hubby, so that was brilliant but not conducive to writing ALL THE THINGS.Anyway, this fic still refuses to actually END, so there will be MOAR. On to the fic! Please to be pointing out errors, since I did not actually read it over this time and probably called Kingsley "Kingsby" or something by mistake.
~~~~~
Harry shook off the last vestiges of sleep and a pleased sigh escaped him at the feel of a hand curving over his hip and moving downwards in a soft caress.
He rolled over to give it better access to the area he most wanted touched. Fingertips pushed into his pubic hair and Harry’s eyes snapped open at the realization that he was not dreaming.
Grey eyes met his and a lazy smile curved Draco’s lips. “I see you’re finally awake,” he said.
“Not quite,” Harry replied. “Perhaps you should keep on with what you were doing?”
Draco’s fingers moved again, back towards Harry’s hip, and when they reversed to glide back in the direction of Harry’s cock, Draco’s lips followed, pressing a line of soft kisses into Harry’s skin.
Oh god, was he going to—?
Fingertips skated lightly over Harry’s cock and then lifted it, just enough to give Draco’s mouth access. Harry nearly arched off the bed with delight. No one had ever… He’d had hopes of coaxing Ginny into it, eventually, of course, but he doubted she would have been so… Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and his fingers clenched in the sheets. “So good,” he murmured and it came out as a moan when Draco’s tongue curled around his cock and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked. Draco’s movements held the certainty that he knew exactly how it felt, and there was no hesitation.
The angle was awkward and after a moment Draco released him only to climb over and settle himself between Harry’s legs. Draco’s eyes met Harry’s for a moment and a self-satisfied smirk curved his lips before they wrapped around Harry’s cock again. Harry had thought it good before, but he had been unprepared for the brilliance that came next.
He did not last long under the onslaught of lips, tongue, and hands. When Draco’s saliva-slick fingers slipped past his testicles to tease at Harry’s sensitive pucker, he lost it completely, pumping into Draco’s mouth so hard he thought Draco would surely choke.
“Oh god,” Harry breathed for possibly the hundredth time in as many breaths.
“Well, I knew I was good, but you need not start worshipping me,” Draco said teasingly and kissed his way up to Harry’s navel, where he dipped in a warm tongue.
“Too late,” Harry said. “I’m already prepared to set up a shrine and begin sacrificing virgins.”
Draco chuckled. “Good luck finding those. I think you are the last.”
Harry pulled his hair and then used his grip to tug him forwards into a kiss. Draco’s mouth tasted slightly bitter with the residual flavour of Harry. That and the hardness against his skin reminded him that Draco needed a seeing to. He broke the kiss to ask, “Do you want me to—?”
As he spoke, he reached down and wrapped his hand around Draco’s hard length.
“Bloody hell, yes, I want you to. But I’m not sure I can last that long.” Draco’s voice was low and husky and he groaned and thrust into Harry’s hand.
“Lift up,” Harry said and began to scoot down. Draco caught his meaning immediately and straddled him as Harry moved lower and lower, until Draco’s cock hovered directly over his lips.
It should have been intimidating, his first time taking a man’s cock into his mouth, but the primary emotion Harry felt was eagerness. He wanted this; he wanted to take Draco in completely, and his mouth watered as he opened up and used his hand to guide Draco’s length over his tongue.
A not-pleasant taste hit his senses, precursor of what was to come, but he braced himself. If Draco could swallow, so could he. The wayward thought was forgotten a moment later, when Draco made a rumbling, sexy sound that fuelled Harry’s need to please him. Trying to remember every nuance of what Draco had just done to him, Harry set to work with his tongue and fingers, striving valiantly to keep his teeth out of play.
“Harry,” Draco groaned. “Oh.”
The single syllable spurred him on. Draco’s cock slid in and out of his mouth as Draco rocked his hips. He so obviously tried to keep from gagging Harry by not thrusting too deeply that Harry had to lift himself up a bit in order to take him in, willingly choking himself in order to accept as much as possible. He was almost frantic with the need to take more. If he hadn’t just come, he knew he would have been hard again almost instantly just from the sensation of being taken, of being orally fucked. The smell and taste and feel of Draco nearly overwhelmed him and each sensation was heightened by the not-quite-stifled sounds of pleasure.
“Harry, you might want to… I’m about to—:
Pleased by the warning and somewhat amused that Draco obviously expected him to pull away, Harry took him even deeper and followed Draco’s previous gesture by stroking over the tantalising gathering of flesh that gave rise to a dozen future fantasies. Draco quivered at the touch and seemed to explode all over Harry’s tongue.
He valiantly swallowed as much as possible and strove not to gag; that would be horrifically embarrassing; but he hoped to hell the taste eventually became tolerable.
Draco pulled away almost immediately and shifted down to gather Harry into a tight embrace. “Your first time?”
“Was it that obvious?” Harry asked and cleared his throat when he found his voice rasping slightly.
“Not at all. You’re a quick study. And swallowing? I’m very impressed.”
Despite his teasing tone, Harry felt a swell of pride. He had survived his first blow job and received a high compliment. With a very contented Draco in his arms, Harry felt that all was right with the world. He thought about drifting off to sleep to savour the blissful emotion, but he felt too charged with energy, despite his recent exertion.
Draco seemed more than willing to doze back to sleep, however, so Harry ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead before easing out from under him.
“Go to sleep. It’s still early. I’ll make breakfast when you wake up.” Harry lifted the blankets and tucked them around Draco, whose brow smoothed when he smiled; he didn’t bother to open his eyes. Harry grinned, picked up his wand, and went to locate his glasses.
Sometime later, Harry was in his workshop spelling glittering bronze dust over the black scales of his latest dragon when he felt a hand snake around his waist. Draco pressed up against his back and nuzzled into his neck. Harry leaned into him with a pleased groan.
“Mmmm, good morning,” Harry said and dropped one hand over Draco’s to give it a squeeze.
“What is that one called?” Draco asked.
“Topaz.” The orange-yellow stones had looked brilliant against the bronze and black.
“Why don’t you have one?”
Harry glanced at the shelves full of assorted dragons. “I don’t know. I guess because they are all mine to start with.”
“That makes sense,” Draco said and kissed Harry’s neck again. Harry decided he really liked being touched so intimately; he wouldn’t have expected Draco to be a cuddler; it was a lovely revelation.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, but I think I’ll go home and change first.”
“But I like you the way you are,” Harry said.
Draco snorted, but his arms tightened around Harry and his nuzzling turned into a gentle nip. “Funny. I’ll be back soon.”
Harry turned and gripped Draco’s shirt, suddenly afraid that if Draco left he wouldn’t return. Their lips met and his pulse raced with something other than fear. Draco seemed to sense his anxiety and his fingers clenched more tightly against Harry for a moment.
“I’ll be back,” Draco repeated against his lips, and then he turned and left the workshop. Harry stared after him in bemusement and wondered just when in the last few days he had become helplessly smitten.
He turned back to the black dragon and tried to focus on the bronze dust instead of replaying the night over and over, but he soon discovered it was possible to do both at once.
~~**~~
Draco returned thirty minutes later. Harry had given up on working and made a pot of tea before taking a critical look at his pantry. Despite his intention to feed Draco a hearty breakfast, he had precious few ingredients to prepare a culinary masterpiece. He wondered if Draco would be put out to find a note awaiting him on his return.
Sorry, Draco, I went to the market. Please sit tight.
Harry snorted. That would not go over well.
Despite Draco’s reassurances, Harry felt a tiny burst of relief when the fireplace flared to disclose Draco, obviously freshly-showered and meticulously dressed. Harry was suddenly cognizant of his own appearance; yesterday’s jeans and a t-shirt he had snagged from the folded-but-not-put-away pile on his bedroom chair.
To Harry’s surprise, a house-elf accompanied Draco.
“Got it, Dropsy?” Draco asked.
The house-elf nodded. It had bulbous eyes and a squashed nose. “Yes, Master Draco, sir. Dropsy will be bringing it now, sir.” With that, it disappeared.
“Dropsy?” Harry asked and took a moment to reassess—he had assumed Draco meant to return to the boarding house when he had mentioned going “home”, but obviously he had referred to Malfoy Manor. Not for the first time, he wondered what Draco’s parents thought of his Muggle-assisting hobby, or even if they knew at all.
“The clumsiest house-elf in existence,” Draco explained. “But he’s good with direction and will lead the others here.”
Harry stopped admiring Draco’s snow-white jumper and smoke-grey trousers in order to register the statement. “Others?”
As if the word had opened a door, house-elves began popping into the room. Each of them bore a dish: silver trays with bright lids, delicate porcelain plates, and even a basket that seemed to have been woven of crystal. Every dish contained some form of food and soon the kitchen was full to bursting with delicious scents.
“I owed you a meal,” Draco said to Harry’s bewildered look. “And since I don’t cook…”
When each dish was on the table, the house-elves vanished, but for Dropsy, who waited nervously near the fireplace; he had stayed well back from the others. “Will Master Draco be wanting anything else?”
“No, thank you, Dropsy. Well done.”
The house-elf bowed low and disappeared. Harry stared at the food on the table to avoid showing surprise at Draco’s treatment of the house-elf. Harry had not expected the same dreadful treatment as that Lucius Malfoy had meted out to Dobby, but even so the courtesy was unforeseen.
“It looks delicious,” Harry said. “Thank you.”
Draco gestured towards a chair and Harry quickly sat down. He was famished, having been awake and working for hours with nothing more than a cup of tea to sustain him. After a moment of hesitation, Draco pulled out the chair next to Harry’s and sat down. Harry instantly took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
Harry ate with gusto, but after a time he noticed Draco was not as enthusiastic, nibbling a bite now and then, but mostly pushing the food around on his plate in a pretence of eating.
“Don’t be worried,” Harry said finally.
Draco’s fork stilled partway through the motion of sliding a bit of sausage beneath a corner of his toast. “I’m not worried,” he replied.
Harry lifted a hand to touch Draco’s chin, gently urging his face around until his eyes met Harry’s. “It will be all right,” Harry said with feeling.
Draco opened his mouth as if to make an angry retort, but then he looked away and let his fork fall to the plate. He picked up his teacup with controlled nonchalance. “I’m sure it will,” he said curtly.
“Don’t do that,” Harry said.
“Do what?” Draco asked, seeming to drape himself in a layer of coldness.
“Don’t shut me out,” Harry whispered, suddenly aching and feeling a chasm widen between them, even though they were mere inches apart. “Not after…” He swallowed and looked down at his plate, suddenly wondering if the night they had spent together meant nothing to Draco, after all. Perhaps Harry had been deluding himself into thinking there was more between them than there really was.
“After what?” Draco asked and Harry’s heart gave a lurch at Draco’s tone; it was not cold, but tentatively questioning, as if he were genuinely curious.
Harry shot a sidelong glance at him. “After last night,” he blurted. “And don’t accuse me of acting like a romantic Hufflepuff, because you know damn well how I feel about it. And don’t tell me I only feel this way because it was my first time with a man.”
There was shocked silence for a few heartbeats and then Draco whispered. “All right.” He bit his lip and then threw Harry a wry smile. “I’m not very good at letting people in.”
Harry smiled back and allowed the knot in his chest ease slightly. “I’m not very good at giving up.”
Draco snorted a laugh. “Thank Salazar for that or we would all be in trouble.” He picked up his fork again and stabbed another sausage. Harry watched as he dragged it through a dollop of jam and then Draco sighed heavily. “They are going to refuse. They will refuse and I will go to Azkaban and never see Daisy again.”
Harry placed a hand on Draco’s back, hoping to soothe even though he was probably rubbish at it. “You are not going to Azkaban and you will see Daisy again. Even if they refuse.”
“They’ll refuse. It was too unexpected and too rushed. I gave them one night to decide the fate of their granddaughter. Of course they’ll refuse. They don’t even know me.”
Harry rubbed small circles over Draco’s back. “They seem to know you quite well, actually.”
Draco pushed the sausage from the fork with a sharp movement and then began to cut it into small pieces with the tines. “They don’t even know I’m a wizard, Harry.”
“Being a wizard is only part of who you are, Draco. It’s not the most important thing.”
Draco stopped massacring his sausage and stared at Harry with an “are you mad?” expression.
“I’m serious. Who you are is what counts, and Daisy’s family knows that you are kind and generous, and caring and…” Harry trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at listing Draco’s good qualities after already admitting to his earlier feelings. “God, I do sound like a Hufflepuff.”
Draco was silent and then he said quietly, “I heard what you said. At Daisy’s house, when you said you only wanted me to be happy.”
Harry’s hand stilled and he tried to recall how lovesick he might have sounded during the conversation with Daisy’s grandmother. “Yeah,” Harry admitted. “Yeah, I meant that.”
Draco turned and looked into Harry’s eyes for a single, searing moment before he leaned forward and pulled Harry into a bruising kiss.
Twenty minutes later, they were still kissing and Draco had worked his way into Harry’s lap, straddling him and the chair both while wrapping around and practically through him, judging by the way Harry’s bones felt like liquid.
The fireplace gave a whoosh and then someone squeaked. Harry pulled his lips away from Draco’s with effort in order to look at Hermione, whose eyes darted around the kitchen trying to fix on anything but them. Her cheeks flamed.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll just—I can come back later!”
“Wait!” Harry called before she could depart. Despite the fact that Draco’s weight was warm and wonderful, and their erections had been grinding together most pleasantly, they did not really have time for distractions. “We were just…”
“I think she can see what we were just, Potter.” Draco’s voice was tinted with amusement.
“Shush, you,” Harry admonished and gave Draco’s pert arse a pinch. “Did you find something else, Hermione?”
“Not really, but I thought it would be prudent to come up with a contingency plan, in case Daisy’s grandparents refused.”
Draco stiffened instantly and all the pleasant relaxation Harry had worked into him disappeared. Harry sighed, knowing it had to happen eventually; at least they had achieved a pleasant interlude before reality returned.
“You’re right,” he said as Draco climbed out of his lap. Hermione’s presence had been a distinct mood killer and they could both move without embarrassing themselves.
She sat down at the table and filled a plate with their forgotten breakfast. “This looks delicious, Harry. I see you outdid yourself.”
Harry silenced Draco with a look, having no intention of allowing them to squabble over house-elf rights, not today. “Thank you, Hermione,” he said quickly, “What do you have in mind?”
Draco only snorted and let his hand rest on Harry’s thigh.
~~**~~
Two o’clock came both too quickly and with agonizing slowness. Draco’s nervousness displayed itself by his increasing tendency towards sarcasm and biting comments. He and Hermione finally got into a shouting match over the ethics of using tropical bird feathers for quill material—how they had got to that argument, Harry had trouble recalling.
Hermione had finally stormed to the Floo and gone home. Draco had looked apologetic but defiant, and Harry had only shaken his head, secretly thinking it had done Draco some good to blow off steam.
Draco had gone home to change (again) and Harry had showered and agonized over his own wardrobe before Draco had returned and taken charge, pulling out a pair of dark trousers and a blue shirt with a peacock motif that Harry did not remember owning. He pulled it on anyway, thrilled at the way Draco’s eyes lit up when they watched him.
Draco also spent some time on Harry’s hair before pronouncing it suitable for public consumption, whatever that meant, and then they were ready to go. Draco’s hand found his for a moment and he squeezed.
“Don’t worry,” Harry said.
“Not worried,” Draco lied and released his hand.
~~**~~
Much later, Draco sank down heavily on a stone bench and put his head between his knees. Harry was instantly beside him.
“Hey! What’s wrong?”
“I’ve adopted a child. I’ve adopted a Muggle child. My parents—my father—is going to kill me.”
“You didn’t exactly adopt her, Draco,” Harry said, trying for rational despite the spike of abject terror that speared his midsection at the thought of Lucius Malfoy. Apparently he was not aware of Draco’s philanthropy towards select Muggles.
Draco lifted his eyes to where Daisy was chasing a flock of pigeons across the grass, apparently homing in on their fluttering wings and laughing when she tried to catch one. “By wizarding law, I might as well have. When her grandparents die, she will be mine to care for. I can barely care for myself! How am I going to take care of a child?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Harry assured him.
Draco’s gaze snapped back to him and then a reluctant-looking smirk twisted his lips. “You’re pretty confident of yourself, Potter.”
“Determined,” Harry corrected with an answering grin.
Draco let out a shaky breath. “All right. I suppose I will deal with my father after we’ve met with Shacklebolt to see if I’m yet to be tossed into Azkaban.”
“You won’t be,” Harry said confidently.
“Daisy, if you catch one of those filthy birds, I am taking you to hospital for detoxification!”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “What does that mean?” she demanded.
“Let us simply agree that you won’t like it,” he warned.
She pouted. “I will stop chasing them for a lollipop.”
“Bloody Slytherin minx,” Draco muttered.
“I can’t imagine where she learned that sort of behaviour,” Harry said dryly and Draco jabbed him with an elbow.
“Fine, but we need to go now, because Harry and I have a meeting to get to.” Draco got to his feet and then shot a look at Harry. “Not a word from you, either.”
“Can I have a lollipop?” Harry asked with a grin.
“I have something better for you to suck on,” Draco assured him in a low murmur, causing Harry’s cheeks to heat with a heady rush. He was suddenly glad that Daisy was blind.
“I can’t wait,” Harry replied and Draco’s answering blush was a lovely sight to see.
~~**~~
Their meeting with Kingsley was almost anti-climactic. The Minister reviewed the paperwork while glancing from Harry to Draco, and then Ron and Hermione, who had (not surprisingly) showed up to lend moral support. Harry felt a rough surge of pride for them both, knowing they were still perplexed by Harry’s relationship with Draco, and yet still willing to stand beside him through whatever came.
“You have some powerful friends, Mr Malfoy,” Kingsley said at last. “I hope you do not take them for granted.”
Draco glanced at Harry and then away. Pink tinted his cheeks for a moment and he shook his head. “I don’t, Minister. I am… very appreciative.”
Hermione preened, obviously sensing it was as near to a “thank you” that she was likely to receive from Draco, but Ron snorted. Draco glared at him. Harry grinned, knowing all was right with the world, especially when Kingsley sighed and said, “This is a bit unorthodox, but since you have declared this young girl as your sole heir, she is exempted from much of the law in regards to the Secrecy Statutes. However, the fact remains that a magical item was spotted in a Muggle public place, which requires a penalty, although we will obviously waive the necessity of Obliviation. I hereby assess a fine of one hundred and fifty Galleons and urge you to take necessary precautions in the future, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco’s shoulders visibly relaxed in relief. “Thank you, Minister. I will.”
“That will be all for now, Denise,” Kingsley continued. The Undersecretary nodded, smiled at Harry, and went out. “Now, Mr Malfoy, I must ask, does your father know about this?”
Draco shook his head. “I was hoping to contain it a bit longer,” he admitted.
“Well, Denise is trustworthy, but the record clerks are not. The moment Denise files that report, I have little doubt there will be a flurry of owls sent to the Daily Prophet. I predict you have until tomorrow morning, at best.”
“Thank you, Minister. I will be off to… lessen the blow, if that is possible.”
They filed out of Kingsley’s office and Harry gave Draco a searching look. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Draco shook his head. “Thank you, but I think I’ll save that revelation for another day. My mother would see through our… relationship… in a trice.”
Harry nodded.
“I’m not ashamed of it,” Draco assured him quickly.
The statement made Harry smile and he said, “Good. I’m not, either.” He drew Draco into a kiss, despite the fact that they stood in a potentially busy corridor outside the office of the Minister for Magic. Ron coughed and Draco blushed, but when Harry pulled away he saw only an octogenarian witch hobbling along the hallway with a fat dog clutched in her arms. She paid them all no mind whatsoever and seemed to be having a serious conversation with the animal.
“I’ll be in my workshop,” Harry continued. “You can Apparate straight there, if you need to.”
“Thanks,” Draco replied. His grey eyes were warm as he silently acknowledged Harry’s admission that the wards around Grimmauld Place had been permanently altered to allow Draco access.