Morning in Southern France
“Ready to come down, princess?” Draco’s main bedroom door opens, showing a very topless Theo with a handful of fresh apricots, most likely taken from his mother’s garden. His hair was still damp, probably also just coming out of the shower from the guest bedroom. He leans against the door frame and watches Draco, fresh out of the shower, pull out his wand to mutter a quick-drying spell.
Draco woke up this morning to a very horny Theo rubbing his loose lips through his knickers with Blaise no where to be found. At night’s festivities, he has left a plethora of hickeys blossoming from his neck to his inner thighs. Draco accidentally makes eye contact with Theo, which he takes as a sign to move down between Draco’s plump pale legs. His hands stroke the top of Draco's thighs up and down as he lifts his hips further up for a more comfortable serve. Moving the thin, almost transparent fabric out of the way, Theo immediately starts attacking the already red sore clit buried deep inside Draco’s fatty tissues. With his left hand holding Draco steady, he reaches his right hand down to his boxers to pull out his already angry dick. By this time, Draco is a moaning mess as he reaches down and tangles his long, skinny fingers inside Theo’s soft strawberry-blonde hair. Matching the gentle stroke of his cock, Theo inserts his tongue into Draco’s raw pussy. In a moment that feels like an eternity, Draco feels a rush of adrenaline as his hole pulsates with pleasure. He bucks his hips forward, furthering Theo’s tongue into his canals as he squirts all over Theo face. Theo comes shortly after and licks all of Draco’s sweet juices around his face. Draco lays motionless on the sheets below him, and he tries to catch his breath. It doesn’t take long before Theo is hit with a pillow to his face.
“Idiot! I just woke up!” He slides off the bed and rushes into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, leaving a laughing Theo kneeling on his bed.
Looking back on this morning, Draco realizes that he probably should not have let Theo have his way without Blaise. The dampened, long platinum falls neatly behind his back as Draco looks around to fetch a loose t-shirt from his bed.
“Why are you wearing Blaise’s shirt and not mine?” Theo asks amusingly. Draco pretends not to hear for a moment. But really, Blaise’s perfume has always intrigued Draco, not that he would admit it out loud, but the warm scent of the Italian countryside lingered around Blaise, which Draco found comforting.
“Why do you care, Nott? Jealous?” Draco smiles as he walks girlishly to where Theo is still leaning against the door. He stands a little too close for privacy and looks up. Theo, and basically all the other men Draco grew up with, hit a massive growth spurt in the last few years of school while Draco stood much shorter even than the girls around him.
Theo just gives him a light chuckle as he uses his free hand and tries to reach behind Draco’s back to squeeze his bum. But before he could, they heard footsteps coming upstairs.
“I hope there is no funny business going on up here, " Draco’s stepdad says as he sees Draco in only Blaise’s shirt. Speak of the devil. Blaise follows him up the stairs and smirks at the site before them. He was wearing a tight compression shirt with some matching basketball shorts and had been out for a run. “Theo, my boy, we missed you during the morning’s run.” Draco’s stepdad said with a thick French accent.
“Yes, I apologized, Agamon. Yesterday’s exercise has gotten me quite sore in my legs.” Theo runs his hand behind Draco and rests it on his waist. A deep blush spreads across his face as he slaps Theo in the chest with the back of his hand.
Agamon only laughs, understanding the implications as he pats Blaise, who has been standing behind him, on the shoulder. “Well, Blaise. Thank you for your company and désolé for keeping you from Draco this morning.”
“Pleasure was all mine, sir. I’m just glad I was able to keep up with you.”
Only after Agamon has disappeared into the master bedroom does Blaise drop his smile and walk towards Draco.
“Just couldn’t wait until I got back, huh?” He grabs Draco’s wrists and pushes his against the wall. Draco only flutters his lashing and looks up at Blaise with a soft pout on his lips.
“Well, it’s not my fault you just can’t skip out on a morning workout,” Draco easily slips out of Blaise’s soft grip and sticks his tongue out at him, “and who needs you anyway? Theo kept me good company this morning.”
Without really waiting for a response, Draco rushes downstairs to the large dining hall. As he skips down the hallways, he glides his fingers across the old vintage wallpaper that covers the walls. He likes how the flowers on the wall move and spread with his touch because it reminds him of the beautiful floral arrangements his mother was so fond of. They were currently spending the summer at his stepdad’s old vacation house. Narcissa and Agamon had recently moved here after their wedding last summer. He heard that Agamon had the entire mansion renovated to fit his mother’s taste and even made a custom bedroom for him. Draco’s favorite part of the house was the sun garden, which was replicated precisely like the sun garden he and his mother would sit for tea back at the manor when he was a child. The stained glass let in beautiful colored sunlight, which danced on the stone floor, and magic was added to change the colors to complement the weather. Draco fondly smiles, glad his mother is finally in good company.
He passes the old family portraits of Agamon’s family tree, and many wish him a quick “Bonjour” before Draco finally reaches his destination.
“Good morning, mother,” he says as he walks towards where his mother sits at the large round dining table. Apparently, Agamon had the long rectangular table changed to a circle one so he could sit with his entire family. He gives his mother a quick peck on the cheek before sitting beside her. He notices the food is just being served and asks, “You weren’t waiting for me, were you?”
“Well, of course I was! It’s the morning before you have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow. I wanted to spend the whole day with you before sending you off again,” she pours them both a cup of tea as the house elves start putting food on the table, “which reminds me, your father sent a letter for you. He said that he would be at the station to see you off and that he would also send your new school supplies. I believe Marie will bring it upstairs while we have our breakfast.”
“Thank you, mother. I also have to get packing because I haven’t unpacked anything from our shopping trip to Paris last week. There is just so much to do, and I don’t know where to start,” Draco says, putting a couple of pieces of toast onto his plate as he reaches for the butter. “Not to mention the sheer amount of clothes I have to bring.”
“Don’t worry about that, hon. Anything you can’t fit into your trunk, I’ll have it owled to you later.”
After breakfast, Draco makes his way back upstairs to his bedroom, where he finds a large stack of packages sent to him by his father. He notices a piece of parchment sticking out of one of the present-wrapped textbooks, and he opens it to read it:
Dear Draco,
This is your potions textbook for your final year at Hogwarts. If you want to become a potions master, as you’ve mentioned, you will have to get at least an Exeeceds Expectations in Advanced Potions (although I believe you can do much better). I also added annotations in certain areas I’ve seen you struggle in and added notes in the margins. Study them carefully and focus on wandless potion brewing, as it will be prudent to prove your skills as a potion maker.
Your potion’s tutor and father,
Severus Tobias Snape
Draco smiles fondly as he opens the textbook to find a rigorous amount of notes and magical charms at the end of each chapter that will quiz him on the concepts before moving on to the next. Severus used similar teaching methods when he tutored Draco since he expressed his deep curiosity for potion brewing from a young age. He would never admit it, of course, but Draco knew how proud Severus was to have Draco follow in his footsteps.
Putting down the textbook, he shifts his attention to the mountains of shopping bags neatly stacked together in the other corner of his room. He randomly picks a bag from the top of the pile and reaches inside to pull out a short, puffy chiffon dress. He feels the soft fabric before pulling off Blaise’s shirt from this morning and slipping into his new dress. He tip-toes across the cold marble floor towards his giant mirror facing his bed and smiles. He grew into himself during the summer. He grew out his hair much faster, thanks to Sleakeazy’s hair potions, and now it reaches his bum. He also realized that his soft natural curls suited him much better than when he used to slit it back with gel. Though he has always looked much more feminine than other men (not to mention that he literally has a pussy), his veela ancestry came in handy as his chest became a little fuller and the harsh, sharp lines on his body filled up with more fluidity.
He looks at himself in the mirror and sees a beautiful girl in front of him, able to turn every head in a room when he enters. Most probably don’t even know that he’s a boy, but even then, no one would care about this beauty in front of them. No one except one. Harry James Potter.