hdwriter (hdwriter) wrote,
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Stalking Harry, Part Two

He sighed. How did you go after something that those closest to you would never accept? He was starting to get the impression that Ron suspected something – maybe he even thought Harry was gay? Or maybe he thought Harry had a crush on Hermione. Harry snorted. Hermione had shut both of them out, really, in her quest to be the top NEWT scorer ever. She even ate most of her meals in her room, which she shared with Padma. Parvati had been injured in the final battle, and she still hadn’t recovered enough to return to school. Padma had become even more serious without her sister, and she and Hermione seemed to make a good study pair.

 

 

Harry closed his eyes, picturing again the flash of blond which haunted his dreams. It wasn’t only the blond, of course – the misty grey eyes, the smirking grin, the lithe body. Harry swallowed as his cock swelled. It took so little, really – just the barest hint of Draco Malfoy, and Harry was lost. He didn’t know when he’d fallen in love, but he knew the moment he realised  his own feelings.

 

After the battle, Harry had searched for Draco, wanting to return his wand and hoping against hope that Draco was okay. He hadn’t seen Draco in the final moments of the battle, and part of him had feared the worst. 

 

The wand was a good excuse to shake others off and search. Harry had ended up with it about a month before the battle, when Snape’s spy report indicated that Voldemort was taking steps to insure that Harry’s wand wouldn’t be able to beat his own. Snape also discovered that Draco’s wand now held the power, since he’d disarmed Dumbledore. They’d staged a duel, and Harry ‘won’ Draco’s wand.

 

When he’d found Draco, sitting with his mother against a wall, Harry’s relief overwhelmed him, and for the first time since Sirius’s death, he’d broken down in tears. Draco hadn’t said anything; when Mrs. Malfoy hugged Harry, Draco’s hand had fallen on Harry’s back and rubbed slow circles. By the time Harry pulled himself together, handed over the wand and left, he knew his life would never be the same.

 

But here he was, months later, and nothing had changed – except the restlessness which plagued him. Harry sighed. “What’s wrong with me?” he muttered. “Why can’t I just do something about this?”

 

Then he heard the faint sound of approaching footsteps – more than one pair, he realised, sitting up. He gripped his wand, even though he couldn’t imagine himself in any serious danger. The footsteps got closer – definitely headed for him. He turned and faced the door.

 

It creaked open, and Pansy Parkinson’s pale face peered in. She gulped at his stance. “You’re really here. It worked.” She came in, followed by Draco.

 

Harry’s knees threatened to give out, but he resolutely stiffened them. “What are you talking about?”

 

Draco held out his hand; in it was Harry’s map. 

 

“Where did you get that?” Harry asked, though he kept his eyes on Draco’s face.

 

“I’m guessing it fell out of one of your books during Potions,” Draco said. “I found it on the floor, and Professor Lupin told me how it worked.”

 

“Oh.” Harry had other questions, like why did Draco show the map to Remus, but something told him now wasn’t the time. “Why are you here?”

 

Pansy took a step closer to him, her hands twining together so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “I wanted to apologise,” she blurted. “I should have earlier. I just – you know, you suck, Potter. It’s always you,” she added, hurrying a bit, like she thought he’d interrupt. Harry couldn’t have if he wanted to – her words seemed to have struck him dumb.

 

“You get everything. I know your childhood was crap – at least, that’s what Professor Snape said. But it still seems so unfair sometimes. He killed my mother – if I could have brought him you, she’d still be alive.” Pansy lifted her chin, and her dark eyes glimmered with tears. “I know that’s not your fault. I know that V – he needed to die. And you were the only one who could do it. But I miss her. Every damn day.”

 

Harry nodded, trying to work past the lump in his throat. “I-it’s okay,” he said. “I’m sorry she died.”

 

Pansy’s face seemed to crumple, and she half-turned from him, hiding her reaction. Harry could hear her soft cries, though, and his chest hurt. Then Draco stepped up next to Pansy, putting his arm around her. “I wanted to help her apologise,” he said. “We didn’t mean to stalk you, or anything.”

 

“It’s not really stalking if you just show up once,” Harry said. Draco’s face suddenly seemed to burn red, and Harry blinked. “It wasn’t just once?”

 

“I – I might have followed you once or twice before,” he said. “But it’s hard to find you alone, and Pansy needed you to be alone.”

 

“When did you follow me?” Harry asked, moving closer, his eyes fixed on that perfect grey gaze.

 

“Um, maybe yesterday afternoon, after Professor Lupin showed me how this thing works. I might have followed you to the Prefects’ Bathroom – which you’re not supposed to be able to use, by the way,” Draco added, sounding stern.

 

“Hermione gave me the password,” Harry admitted. “I think she wanted to make up for ditching me so often.”

 

“Ah.” There was a brief silence, filled only with Pansy’s crying. Then Draco sighed. “I saw you were still on the pitch after your game today too. That’s why I was out there. But Weasley just wouldn’t leave.”

 

“But you were alone – Pansy wasn’t with you,” Harry said, confused.

 

Draco hesitated, glancing at Pansy. Then he dropped his arm from her shoulders and took another step forwards, bringing him almost flush with Harry. “I wasn’t following you for her. Not all the time.” 

 

Harry felt Draco’s breath on his face, and he inhaled the sweetness of it, the heat. His pants again felt too tight, and his fingers itched to touch that pale skin in front of him. “Why were you following me then?”

 

“Do you really need to ask?” Draco whispered.

 

Harry shook his head and leaned forward, brushing his lips across Draco’s. He started to pull back when Draco’s hand came round the back of his neck, anchoring him in place. Then Draco’s lips pressed against his, and Harry was lost.

 

He opened his mouth, letting Draco’s tongue enter, and when they touched, Harry pulled Draco to him, revelling in the feel of the hard length against his groin. “Oh, god,” he moaned into Draco’s mouth.

 

“Hello?” came Pansy’s voice, filled with irritation and a hint of amusement.

 

Draco immediately let go and stepped back. “Right. Um –”

 

“Honestly,” she said, looking at them. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, a slight smile on her face. Harry could hardly breathe. He needed to be touching Draco again, and his hands twitched. So did his cock. 

 

Pansy reached up and fluffed Draco’s hair. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll leave you two alone now.”

 

The door hadn’t even closed behind her before Harry grabbed Draco and shoved his tongue in his mouth again. They kissed, the heat between them growing by the second. Then Draco’s slender fingers were working at Harry’s belt, and Harry felt awkward and exhilarated in turns as he tried to get Draco’s zip down.

 

Although not soon enough, finally Harry had his hand around Draco’s swollen cock, and he wondered if he’d finally found his ‘ever after’. Draco began moving his own hand up and down Harry’s shaft, moaning as he did so.

 

Harry’s knees definitely gave out this time, and he yanked Draco to the floor with him, hardly noticing the pain in his hip as they hit. Draco ripped off Harry’s shirt, pulling off Harry’s glasses at the same time. Harry didn’t care in the slightest. He returned the favour, tearing at the buttons on Draco’s shirt until he could touch silky skin. Soon, both boys lay on the dusty floor, naked and happy.

 

“I’ve never really done this before,” Harry panted, as Draco fisted and squeezed.

 

“’sokay,” Draco murmured in between breathy moans. “It’s been a really long time for me.”

 

“How long?” Harry asked, nipping his way down Draco’s chest.

 

“Ungh,” Draco said, as Harry took him into his mouth. “Ohgod, ohgod.”

 

“That long?” Harry smiled around Draco’s length, loving the musky scent, the slightly salty taste. He hummed a bit as he sucked, and Draco bucked into him. Harry had no idea what he was doing, so he just followed his instincts, letting Draco’s responses clue him in. It didn’t take long at all before Draco was spurting into his mouth, yelling Harry’s name at the same time.

 

Harry came without a touch, just from the sound and feel of it. He managed to swallow some of it, though he spat the rest out when he choked a bit. Then he slithered up Draco’s slippery body and put his head on Draco’s shoulder. “I’ve waited for a long time to do that,” he said.

 

“How long?” Draco asked. He still sounded breathy, and he didn’t seem to realise he’d forgotten to answer the same question from Harry earlier.

 

“Since the end of the battle – maybe even longer,” Harry admitted.

 

Draco pulled him closer, shifting so Harry could lie half on top of him. He looked into Harry’s eyes. “It’s been much longer for me – since the Tower that night. Professor Snape told me you were there, and when he offered to help, you’re the reason I agreed. Well, amongst others, of course,” he added, with his beautiful smirk.

 

Harry grinned back. “Of course.” He leaned down and kissed Draco slowly, lovingly, trying to say what he really felt.

 

Draco kissed back without hesitation. Then he said, “This floor is hard. And dirty.”

 

Harry laughed. “I bet you know the password to the Prefects’ Bathroom,” he said.

 

Draco grinned. “I might.” He rolled Harry off and stood up, gathering his clothes. “I thought you were going out with female Weasley,” he said. “I mean, I wondered if there was something there, between us. That day – but of course, there were tons of reasons why you’d cry.”

 

He sounded hesitant, like he was afraid Harry would be upset that Draco brought it up. Or worse yet, that Harry would remember Ginny. “I haven’t been with Ginny since Dumbledore’s memorial. And on that day, there were tons of reasons, but I broke down right then because of you. Because you were okay.” 

 

Draco stared at him, his shirt slipping from his fingers. “Oh,” he whispered after a long silence.

 

Harry picked up Draco’s shirt with his clothes. “It’s always been you, Draco.” He shrugged. “It just took a war to make me see it.”

 

Draco suddenly pulled Harry to him, kissing him almost ferociously. Harry began to harden again, but Draco let go. “I’ll take care of that in the bath,” he said, with a wicked grin. They got dressed, tossing each other heated glances as they did so. Harry grabbed his cloak, and Draco picked up the map. 

 

As they started out the door, Draco said, “It’s always been you too, Harry.” And Harry felt the restlessness fade away, remaining behind in the dimly-lit room.

 

Tags: harry/draco
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