Nearly

It’s the evening before the big match — Slytherin versus Gryffindor — and the Common Room is abuzz with excitement. Harry and Draco sit cuddled up on a loveseat near the fire, chatting and joking with Blaise and the girls, who are all sprawled out at their feet, while Seamus and Theodore sit squeezed together on an armchair next to them trading Quidditch Players (collectable cards featuring famous Quidditch players through the ages) until finally, around ten o’clock, Flint marches up to them and barks at Harry and Draco to go to bed. 

”E-excuse me—?” Draco stutters in surprise. 

”You heard me!” Flint says gruffly. ”Big day tomorrow. Get some rest. Go on, get!”

Harry and Draco awkwardly untangle themselves from each other and push to their feet. 

”It’s only ten…” Harry mumbles. 

”I don’t want to hear it, Potter!” Flint snaps. ”You better get at least eight hours of solid sleep tonight — and no shagging either!”

Harry feels like his cheeks have suddenly burst into flame and shoots his friends a sour look when they erupt in snickers and giggles at their feet. 

Draco on the other hand simply smirks, his cheeks as pale and flawless as ever, even as he grabs a cushion from the loveseat and lobs at Blaise’s head. The cushion bounces off the the dark-haired boy’s face, but it only causes him to laugh harder. 

Harry forces out a strained chuckle.

Draco’s eyes flicker away from Blaise again and lock with Harry’s suddenly. He doesn’t seem at all horrified, or even remotely embarassed, that Flint just suggested to the entire Common Room that he and Harry are having… having… having sex — as if that’s not a big deal at all. 

And maybe it isn’t? Harry thinks as he trails after the blonde towards the dorm.

Maybe it’s just Harry who thinks that… that… sex… is a big deal. 

Maybe Harry is the decidedly uncool dork who can’t even look at a picture of two wizards lying naked together, without feeling like he’ll explode with heat and embarassment?

His thoughts are momentarily interrupted when they reach their respective beds and Draco steps up close to him. Harry automatically holds his breath as he stares up into the other boy’s face and Draco gives him a small smile that looks way too innocent to really be innocent, then leans down and gives him a peck of the lips and murmurs good night, the faux innocent smile still in place. 

Harry ends up lying awake for what feels like hours fretting over why Draco hadn’t seemed bothered by Flint suggesting they’re ’shagging’ and why he’d been smiling at Harry like that. 

Maybe Draco doesn’t think sex is a big deal at all, he thinks. Maybe he’s not at all nervous about having it for the first time, maybe he’s expecting us to have it any day now, maybe he’s even wondering why we’re not having it already, maybe —

Stop. Breathe, Harry tells himself firmly, turning over to his other side and giving his pillow a determined thump to make it fluffier, before settling down to try and sleep again. But he makes a mental note to read the rest of that blasted book as soon as possible…

The next morning, when Draco shakes his shoulder insistently to wake him up, Harry is sure he’s just fallen asleep and it’s with sluggishly slow movements that he drags himself out of bed and into his Quidditch robes. Draco gives him a worried look, the one that asks him whether he’s been having nightmares, Harry notes. He gives the other boy a small shake of his head, and the worry more or less disappears from his grey eyes again. 

When they get to ground level and Harry can see the faded white sky outside the windows, his spirits are lifted considerably. No rain and yet no direct sunlight means excellent visibility and if it’s not too windy either, the conditions will be more or less perfect. 

His spirits are lifted even further when he spots Hedwig zooming down from the rafters in the Great Hall. She lands expertlh next to his porridge bowl and gives his fingers a playful nip when he unties the letter from her leg. He smiles at her and feeds her a piece of bacon from Seamus’ plate, before unrolling the letter from his dads. 

He feels a sudden swoop in his stomach as he reads the short message, telling him both his dads are coming to see the game.

Neither of his dads have seen him play an actual, real game before. Mainly because he’s only ever played one. Back in Second Year he played against Gryffindor and caught the snitch despite his arm being broken, winning the match. Sirius had actually planned to come and see that game, but he’d been called in to work at the last minute and couldn’t make it and Harry isn’t sure what excuse Remus had given him at the time, but now he knows that he’d still been recovering from the full moon. 

They had both said at the time that they would come and see the next one, but then of course the House Cup got completely cancelled due to the attacks. And at the end of the year, Harry got banned from playing altogether until last year, when the Cup got cancelled yet again, because of the Triwizard Tournament. 

Sirius keeps joking that if he’d have known it would turn out to be the only time Harry would ever play a game, he would have called in dead to work that day. 

Harry is equal parts excited and nervous about today’s match, because it will be his first since that one game in Second Year and only his second game ever, but also because finally his dads will get to see him play Seeker.

Harry eagerly shows Draco the letter and beams at him. The blonde nods in acknowledgement, then snorts softly at the look on his face but the smirk on his own face almost instantly softens and his eyes twinkle with affection. 

”They’ve never seen me play”, Harry says half-defensively, but the effect is somewhat diminished by the massive grin on his face and even if he wanted to, he doesn’t think he could reign it in. 

”I’m happy for you”, Draco murmurs, his smile twitching as he gives his own letter a small wave. ”My parents can’t make it.”

”I’m happy for you too”, Harry says cheekily. 

Draco chuckles and nods in agreement, but there’s a small glint of something less than happy in his eyes that makes Harry’s good spirits immediately sink again and his chest feel tight. 

”Hey…” he adds seriously, touching his fingers gingerly to the other boy’s arm and Draco’s eyes flicker back to meet his. ”You’re not… you know… sad about that, or anything, are you?”

”No”, Draco says immediately and huffs haughtily. ”I don’t care.”

”Okay…” Harry murmurs, even though Draco is clearly lying. 

Flint comes marching up the length of the Slytherin table and barks at them to finish up their breakfast already, so that they can make their way over to the Quidditch pitch and check out the conditions. Draco drains his coffee and stands up, offering Harry a hand as he untangles himself from the bench and accidentally snags his foot on the edge of the seat. Flint rolls his eyes at him. 

”Let’s go everyone, so we can get Potter in the air before he has an accident…” he says drily. 

The rest of the team sniggers good-naturedly at Harry, who glares back half-heartedly. Draco keeps his hand on his arm, cupping his elbow loosely until he’s standing firmly on both feet and even then he gives his arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. Harry shoots him a grateful look. 

”Come on…” Draco murmurs quietly. ”Let’s rattle some lions…”

The team makes its way down the grassy slope, now crisp with frost that crunch softly under their feet and then stand around Flint as he marches up and down the length of the pitch, muttering to himself and every so often glaring up at the sky. Harry and Draco exchange a subtle look, but then quickly have to look away again before they burst out laughing.

By the time the rest of the school starts arriving and filling up the stands, Flint orders them all to put their game faces on and they move to stand in the middle of the pitch to wait for the Gryffindor team and Madam Hooch to join them. A roar of cheers erupts suddenly from the Slytherin stands, signalling the arrival of Harry’s and Draco’s friends and they both turn to wave up at them happily. 

Harry feels his stomach jolt pleasantly when he sees his dads squeezed together between Seamus and Professor Snape, looking slightly out of place but grinning proudly back at him and — Harry lets out an incredulous chuckle — they’re both wearing Slytherin scarves!

”What?” Draco mumbles. 

”My dads…” Harry says happily, waving at them a last time before turning back around.

Madam Hooch comes striding up to them, placing the ball crate on the ground at Flint’s feet. Shortly after, the doors to the changing rooms open and the Gryffindor team hurries outside, lead by the determined team captain, Angelina Johnson. She stops short merely a metre away from Flint and returns his icy glare full-on. 

Harry feels a grudginy respect for the girl, especially when Hooch demands she and Flint shake hands and Flint tries his hardest to crush her fingers and she doesn’t even flinch.

Hooch releases the balls and blows her whistle. All fourteen players soar into the air and scatter across the Stadium. Harry dodges a bludger and zooms even higher up, scanning the air for a glint of gold. He’s vaguely aware of Lee Jordan’s commentary, but tries to zone it out. He can’t afford to lose his focus —

”And it’s Johnson with the quaffle — what a player that girl is, I’ve been saying it for years, but she still won’t go out with me—”

”Jordan!” Professor McGonagall yells, cutting him off.

Focus, Harry tells himself. 

”— and she’s side-flown Montague, what finesse, what grace, what — ouch! — she’s hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe there, Malfoy catching the Quaffle… Malfoy heading back up the pitch… Oh, that was a close one! Nice Bludger from George Weasley there, but Malfoy is a fast little ferret —”

”JORDAN!”

”Just an expression, Professor! — OH! — Malfoy ducks another Bludger, bloody hell — but there Fred Weasley’s got him—!”

Harry’s heart stutters in his chest and he swerves around instinctively to check that Draco is okay. He sees a white-blonde head bowed low over a broomstick on the other end of the pitch, but the boy quickly rights himself again and swerves around to pursue Katie Bell, who’s now got the Quaffle and is zooming back towards the Slytherin side of the Stadium. 

”— and she passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet dodges Flint, avoids a Bludger — close call — careful, Alicia! — Oh, no! — erm, I mean, good Bludger from Goyle there, and Spinnet’s lost the Quaffle, Malfoy’s caught it and he passes to Montague, who passes to Flint  — oh, but the crowd is loving this, just listen to them, what’s that they’re singing?”

As Lee Jordan pauses his booming commentary to listen, Harry can hear cheerful singing break through the din of the audience and the rushing of the wind in his ears and he looks down towards the Slytherin stands to see Pansy directing the other Slytherins like a choir. 

”Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring, that’s why Slytherins all sing; Weasley is out King—!”

”—AND IT’S FLINT WITH THE QUAFFLE STILL!” Lee Jordan hollers hurriedly to drown the song out again. ”He’s heading for goal, out of Bludger range—”

”Weasley was born in a bin! He always lets the Quaffle in—!”

”—with just the Keeper ahead and it’s the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley—” 

”—Weasley will make sure we win! WEASLEY IS OUR KING!”

”—brother of Beaters Fred and George and a promising new talent—”

”WEASLEY IS OUR KING! WEASLEY IS OUR KING!” 

”— Ahhh —” Jordan’s exclamation of disappointment, as well as the singing, is momentarily drowned out by a massive roar of noise. ”Slytherin Score! Bad luck, Ron! So that’s ten-nil to Slytherin…”

”WEASLEY IS OUR KING — HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN — THAT’S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING, WEASLEY IS OUR KING!”

Shaking his head, Harry tunes both the singing and the commentary out again and refocuses on finding the Snitch. 

Something glints in his peripheral and, acting on pure instinct, Harry throws himself flat along his broomstick and hurtles forward into a dive… it’s only when he’s halfway across the Stadium that he realises that he’s not in pursuit of the Snitch at all, but his teammate Montague’s wristwatch. 

Swearing loudly to himself, he pulls out of the dive again and zooms back up into the air. He flies a lap around the pitch, scanning his surroundings eagerly… then suddenly, he sees it —

Fluttering a few feet from the ground near the Slytherin goal hoops, the Golden Snitch is zipping from side to side as though swaying to the rhythm of Weasley Is Our King, which is still ringing out throughout the Stadium, despite the rowdy cheers and boos of the rest of the audience which has reached an almost deafening level at this point, and Harry’s stomach jolts — 

He swerves so fast, he almost topples off his broom, but he quickly rights himself again and then he is off!

”— good maneouvre by Malfoy there, he’s ferreted his way past another Bludger and he’s got the Quaffle, he’s — oh, hang on! — looks like Potter has spotted the Snitch!” Jordan shouts. ”And McLaggen is close on his tail, but I don’t think —”

Harry is vaguely aware of a streak of red and yellow pelting towards him from his right. 

”OH SHIT — Sorry, Professor — but — Slytherin score and —!”

The Snitch darts off towards the left and Harry doesn’t think, just flattens himself along his broom and dives. His fingers close around the feebly struggling little ball, its delicate wings beating fruitlessly as Harry pulls out of his dive again and holds it up triumphantly —

WHAM!

Something collides with him suddenly and knocks him off his broom. He falls and lands in a graceless heap on the frosty grass. The fall isn’t high enough to seriously hurt him, only knock the wind out of him. If anything, his Nimbus hurts him more when it clatters on top of him. 

At first he thinks he must have been hit by a Bludger and when the cheering from the stands morphs into outraged shouts and boos, he thinks whoever beat it at him must have done so illegally after he’d caught the Snitch.

He pushes himself up to sitting. Next to him McLaggen gets to his feet as well, scowling at him. It takes Harry a moment to process the situation and realise that he wasn’t hit by a Bludger at all, but McLaggen had flown into him. Madam Hooch blows her whistle furiously and lands next to them both. When she starts yelling at McLaggen, Harry looks away. 

”Harry!” Draco screams and in the next moment, the blonde more or less crash lands next to him, grabbing at his shoulders desperately. 

”I’m fine”, Harry reassures him and then, almost as an afterthought, he holds up his hand still clutching the struggling Snitch. ”And I got the Snitch! We won!”

”I know we did, you clumsy fool!” Draco says in a rush. ”Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

”Clumsy”, Harry says indignantly. ”He flew into me!”

In the next moment, the rest of the team lands around them. Flint is beaming, shouting praise at Harry for catching the Snitch, while the rest are showing varying degrees of worry at his fall. Draco helps him to his feet and takes the oppurtunity to put his arm around his waist under the guise of supporting his weight. 

”I’m fine”, Harry insists again under his breath. 

”Shhh”, Draco whispers, his smirk twitching mischieviously. ”You’ve sprained your ankle.”

Harry rolls his eyes at him, but can’t stop himself from grinning widely. It falters slightly when he catches sight of Ron on the other side of the pitch, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he makes his way to the changing room on his own. But the feeling of the Snitch’s wings batting against his hand, and Draco’s strong arm around him, soon overpowers his sympathy for the redhead and he beams back at his teammates as they jump up and down, cheering happily. 

Draco leans in close, his nose nudging the side of Harry’s face, murmuring quietly, ”Oh and thanks for letting me score before catching the Snitch…”

”That was an accident”, Harry says, blushing. 

”And he’s honest”, Draco mutters.

Harry’s dads has made their way down from the Slytherin stands and jog up to him and his teammates. Remus eyes flit over his body quickly, clearly taking inventory of any injuries. 

”I’m fine!” Harry says hurriedly, stepping away from Draco and raising his arms a little in some hesitant half-wave, to illustrate his point. 

”You were brilliant, Harry!” Sirius exclaims proudly, pushing in front of Remus and enveloping him in a massive hug. 

”Th-thanks!” Harry gasps, chuckling. 

As soon as Sirius steps back, Remus darts forward and envelops him in a massive hug that lifts him off his feet. It takes all of Harry’s self-control not to follow his instinctive impulse to wrap his legs around his daddy waist, like he’s always done growing up, keenly aware that it would be way too embarassing to do that now in front of the whole school. As if sensing Harry’s embarassment, Remus lets go of him again after a record three seconds and with only a brief caress over his head he then steps back from him entirely.

”Amazing flying”, he says, smiling. ”You too, Draco. That was a really good score.”

”Well, wasn’t much of a challenge with the Keeper covering the wrong hoop…” Draco mutters haughtily to the snickers of the other team members, but the subtle pink blush in his cheeks tells Harry he’s secretly pleased by the compliment and he remembers the sad glint in his eyes when he’d said his parents weren’t coming to the game. 

Feeling a stab in his chest, Harry’s arm shoots out with the impulse to grab his hand but he catches himself just in time and simply knocks his knuckles against the outside of the other boy’s hand. Draco glances over at him, but his face remains a mask. 

The rest of the Slytherins stampede onto the pitch, swarming around them, cheering ecstatically. Harry’s dads beam at him and with a couple of final pats on his shoulder they tell him they’ll see him at Christmas. 

”You’re leaving?” he says, feeling slightly disappointed. 

”You don’t want us around”, Sirius says, shoving him slightly. ”You’ve got some celebrations to get on with!”

”We’ll see you soon”, Remus says, stealing another hug. 

”Okay, see you then…” Harry mumbles, hugging him back. 

”PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM!” Seamus shouts at the top of his voice, but it’s quickly drowned out by a deafening roar of cheers. 

”We’ll see you there”, Adrian says, nodding towards the changing rooms. 

As the rest of the team begins to follow him and the others head towards the castle in what can only be described as a raucous conga line, lead by Seamus and Pansy who begin to sing Weasley Is Our King again, Draco discreetly grabs Harry’s hand and stops him from following the rest of the team to the changing rooms. He turns back around and gives the blonde a questioning look. 

”Let’s go somewhere else”, he says cryptically. 

”Okay”, Harry says slowly. ”But… Shower first?”

Draco smirks and shakes his head, pulling on his hand slightly.

”You won’t need it.”

”What?” Harry says nonplussed, but allows himself to dragged towards the castle. 

Draco makes sure to walk slowly enough that they don’t catch up with the other Slytherins, but their singing can still be heard just slightly ahead of them. It reminds Harry of Ron walking towards the changing rooms by himself, his shoulders slumped…

”Don’t start…” Draco mutters. 

”What? I didn’t even say anything—!”

”I can hear you thinking… come on, we’re celebrating!”

”Are we? I thought you said—?”

”We are celebrating…” Draco repeats and gives him a meaningful look. 

Harry swallows thickly. 

”Wh-where?” he asks, aiming for cool but probably missing by a mile. 

”You’ll see…” Draco says, smirking playfully. 

Draco leads him up to the castle and continues to pull on his arm insistently, all the way up to the fifth floor and every time Harry tries to ask him where they’re going — about once every floor — he just shoots him a secretive smirk and just shakes his head.

Finally they reach a statue of a rather bewildered looking wizard who appeared to have been depicted with his gloves on the wrong hands. Draco walk up to a door on the statue’s left and whispers something, then turns the doorknob and opens the door. 

Harry can only gape in wonder as he looks around the room. It’s a bathroom, but it’s more magnificent than any bathroom Harry has ever seen before. A bath tub (or more accurately, a small swimming pool) takes up most of the room and the walls are lines with wooden benches and tall windows through which daylight streams in, filtered through the different coloured glass panes that create various beautiful patterns or pictures, like so many of Hogwarts windows do. 

”What is this place?” he asks in an unconsciously hushed voice. 

”Prefect’s bathroom”, Draco says smiling proudly. ”Do you like it?”

”Yeah”, Harry gushes. ”It’s awesome! But am I allowed to be in here?”

Draco shrugs, still smiling. He steps up closer to Harry and gently drags his hands up his arms, then lets them settle on top of his shoulders. 

”Who’s going to find out?”

”I don’t know… maybe there’s some spell…”

Draco snorts and shakes his head, then leans down and captures Harry’s lips in a gentle kiss. Harry eagerly deepens it and as the kiss gets heated, they both begin to unfasten each other’s arm guards and the clasps of the other’s robes, before pulling off their own leather gloves and leg guards, then finally toeing off their boots. 

Then with surprising speed, despite the awkward fumbling, they manage to pull each other’s quidditch robes completely off and there’s something about how the tinted light from the windows hits Draco’s pale white, naked skin and that makes Harry’s breath hitch. Draco immediately moves forward ro embrace him, but without thinking about it, Harry steps back from him just so he can keep looking at him… the blonde falters and gives him a questioning look, as Harry takes another moment, merely a second really, to drink him in… 

But suddenly, it occurs to Harry that Draco might think think is utterly creepy of him, so he quickly kills the distance between them again and leans in for another kiss. However, even as the other boy wraps his arms around him and pulls him flush against his own body, he jerks his head back just enough to avoid the kiss.

”Okay?” he murmurs. 

Harry nods hurriedly and leans in again. This time, Draco doesn’t resist. 

They melt together and make out for what feels like hours, yet no time at all at the same time and Harry could easily stay in the embrace indefinitely, if it wasn’t for the cool breeze from the slightly uneven window panes and the goosebumps on every patch of his skin that doesn’t touch Draco’s. The other boy must have felt him shiver, because his caresses turn from slow and sensual to more of a brisk rubbing and then he breaks the kiss again and steps away. Harry shivers in earnest then.

”Sorry”, Draco mutters as he moves swiftly over to bath tub’s many taps and starts turning them. ”Won’t take a sec, promise…”

”Sure”, Harry mumbles, hugging himself. 

He feels slightly exposed standing on his own suddenly, naked as the day he was born and much colder than any boy would want to be in a situation he hopes will turn sexual… 

”Get in — it’s nice and hot”, Draco says, turning another couple of taps. 

Harry is vaguely curious to see the different colours of the steaming water that rushes out of them and one producing shimmering bubbles that sail down and cover the surface of the water in the tub. 

”What, erm, about you…” he says, shuffing over to the edge of the small pool and crouching down.

”Yeah, I’ll be right there… what do you prefer, lavender or cocon—?” 

”Coconut”, Harry says immediately without even thinking and slides into the water.

He turns to look up at Draco and catches the blonde’s knowing smirk and feels his cheeks burn, but he thinks he might get away with it as the water that is now level with his waist is quite hot and the rest of his body is beginning to flush as well. 

When the intricately detailed images of stained glass in the windows around him are suddenly covered by a light mist, Harry remembers his glasses and quickly snatches them off his face and folds them together and puts them down on the edge of the tub. When he turns back around, the windows have all blurred together into an abstract mosaic of colours instead.

He can hear Draco turn one last tap and turns his head to see the blonde’s blurred form come sauntering towards him. Harry squints and the other boy’s outline becomes slightly more defined as he gracefully slides into the pool and moves through the frothy water until he’s standing in front of Harry, just as the scent of coconut begins to fill the air around them. The smell is such as powerful association for Harry — basically as soon as it registers with him, his brain and body shout Draco — that fluttery currents of charged wantwantwant run up and down his veins. 

”That’s warmed you up…” Draco murmurs with a teasing smirk as he wades up close to him.

”Ha ha…” Harry croaks and blushes furiously again as he swallows thickly, mouth suddenly gone dry. 

This up-close, he can make out Draco’s features despite not wearing his glasses, even if they’re slightly blurred, and he can tell when the blonde’s smirk widens into an actual smile. That’s the only warning Harry gets before the other boy kills the distance between them and gently rocks their hips together, allowing Harry to feel just how hot he himself also is. 

It shouldn’t be such a shock to his system to feel the hard length of his boyfriend’s cock brush against his own, after all it’s not like he’s never felt it before (by this point, Harry has got every inch of the other boy’s naked body more or less memorised), but it is and it sends a jolt throughout his body. 

Gingerly, he places his hands on top of the other boy’s collarbones, fingers twitching involuntarily as sparks fly through them. He feels like every inch of him that touches Draco on fire and his heart is beating a tattoo in his chest. 

It doesn’t make any sense. They’ve done much more intimate stuff together than this before, but Harry has never felt quite like this before. The sensation is almost overwhelming and as scary as it is exciting. He almost wants Draco to say yes when he asks him if he’ll have to get out and turn all of the taps off again — almost — just so he can catch his breath and get his heart rate back to normal, if only for a few seconds. 

However, Draco doesn’t say anything. But Harry catches his headshake in his peripheral. In the next moment, all the taps turn off by themselves. Harry jerks his head up and gives Draco a startled look.

”I didn’t do it”, the blonde says and Harry can hear the amusement in his voice.”They’re spelled to turn off when the tub is full… Speaking of which…” 

Draco takes a step back from Harry again, until they’re no longer touching. 

”Let’s get you cleaned up…”

”What?” Harry half-chuckles nervously. 

Squinting up at Draco’s face, Harry can make out the smirk on the other boy’s face and then follows the movement of his arms as he scoops up some bubbles from the water around them. 

Draco begins to lather up his arms and shoulders slowly and Harry unconsciously sways a little closer to him, creating tiny waves between their bodies. 

Finally, the slender hands settles on top of Harry’s shoulders and stills. Harry looks up into the other boy’s face again, squinting slightly to better make out his features. The smirk is gone now and the grey of Draco’s eyes is almost completely gone too, replaced with dark want and Harry’s heart jolts. 

”Can you see?” Draco murmurs quietly. ”Without your glasses? Can you see me?”

”Y-yeah… Kind of…” Harry says, embarassingly out of breath. 

Draco then mumbles something else that sounds like like it, but Harry can’t be sure because he said it so quietly. 

”Wh-what?”

Harry counts three pounding heartbeats when Draco says nothing, but feels his fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders. The water laps at Harry’s body when Draco shifts slightly. 

”Do you… Like… What you see—?”

”Fuck yea—” Harry starts to speak, but his vehement reply is quickly muffled when the other boy ducks down and captures his lips in a searing kiss and it immediately turns heated. 

Draco wraps his arms around Harry and pulls him flush against his own body, his hands roaming eagerly all over his back and then dipping into the water and cupping his buttocks. Harry’s hips jerk forward of their own accord and he gasps into the kiss as his impossibly hard cock rubs up against Draco’s thigh. 

The blonde growls softly and bites down on his lower lip, then swiftly soothes the bite again with a teasing lick that rips an involuntary moan from Harry’s throat. The slender fingers digging into the soft flesh of his buttocks begin to knead them and then Harry feels a couple of them slipping into the crack between them and rubbing gently against the sensitive skin there. Harry’s stomach flips over and his heart begins to pound in earnest. 

Is this it? he thinks frantically. Does Draco want us to… to… 

Am I ready for that? 

I don’t think I —

I don’t — I don’t know 

I don’t know what to do — I

I —

Draco’s trails feathery kisses along his jawbone and down the side of his throat. Harry can still feel the pad of one finger against his hole — not pressing against it, just rubbing it carefully — the sensation is unbelievable, he can’t really wrap his head around it, it’s subtle like a kiss and intense like lightening all at once. 

Draco sneaks his other hand in between their bodies and wraps his fingers around both of their cocks, squeezing them at the same time in an almost painful grip, and when Harry’s orgasm rips through him it’s as sudden as it is ruthless. The shockwaves of pleasure that ripple through him are so intense they almost hurt. He clutches Draco’s shoulders in a bruishing grip and sags against him, his whole body shaking and he’s vaguely aware of Draco thrusting his face into the crook of his neck and breathing harschly, his erratic heartbeat jostling Harry’s chest as if trying to pick a fight with his own heart. 

Harry is still blinking the stars from his eyes when Draco fumbles with his hands and guides them away from his own shoulders and around his body, down his back to his bottom. Instinctively Harry grabs his buttocks firmly and grinds their hips together. 

He feels Draco’s hard cock slide against his stomach twice, before the other boy goes rigid against him and begins to tremble from the shocks of his own orgasm. Without really thinking about it, Harry stands up on tip-toe and bites down hard on the soft flesh in the crook of Draco’s neck. 

The blonde spasms against him, a muffled curse escaping through his clenched teeth before he grabs Harry’s face hard and thrusts their lips together in a teeth-clashing, hungry kiss. 

A girly giggle echoes around them suddenly and they both freeze. 

Draco breaks the kiss abruptly again and wrenches his head back from Harry’s. Blinking his eyes open, Harry stares up Draco in horror. They both turn their heads towards the door… But it’s still closed. 

”Oh-oh… naughty, naughty…” a high-pitched girly voice giggles behind them. 

They spring apart and whirl around. Harry squints his eyes out into the room, but can’t see anyone standing there. Draco swears silently next to him. 

”What are you playing at?” he demands then. ”Get out of here!”

”Who—?” Harry starts. 

”Well, there’s no need to shout at me…” the girl’s voice cuts him off, the giggles now replaced with a whiny tremour. 

Ah, Harry thinks. Moaning Myrtle. 

”Myrtle”, he says. ”Can you give us some privacy, please?”

”Why?” Myrtle demands. ”Why should I do anything you want, when you’re rude to me!”

A miserable hiccough is the only warning they get before the ghost begins to sob dramatically. Harry sighs. He reaches out and gives Draco’s wrist a gentle squeeze. 

”Come on…” he murmurs. 

Myrtle dives into tub with an ear-splitting wail, just as they heave themselves up from it and they quickly cover themselves up with their quidditch robes before hurrying out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut quickly to cut off the horrible sound. 

”Merlin”, Draco mutters. ”Could she have worse timing?”

”Well, actually, yeah”, Harry says wryly. 

He puts his glasses back on just in time to catch the blonde’s twitching smirk, before he leans in to steal a quick kiss. 

”Come on, let’s go celebrate with the others…” he says, as he leans away from Harry again. 

When they reach the Common Room, the party is in full swing and Seamus is literally swinging from one of the chandeliers. Their other friends and most of their other housemates are cheering him on idly, while Gamp and Accrington, as Head Boy and Girl, try to set some kind of example and half-heartedly tries to talk him down.

When some of the Slytherins spot Harry and Draco in the doorway, they forget about the drunk Irish boy and swarm around them with renewed cheers. 

”Where have you been?” Pansy demands as she shoulders her way through the small crowd and drapes herself over the both of them, wrinkling her nose at Harry’s muddy robes. ”And why haven’t you changed?”

”We got… sidetracked”, Draco says with a smirk. 

Pansy rolls her eyes and lets go of them again. 

”Well, hurry up and get changed, before the firewhiskey runs out!”

They celebrate through most of the night and the combination of the firewhiskey Seamus has once again managed to smuggle into the castle and Pansy’s and Draco’s newfound passion for songwriting, it turns into quite the loud affair. Harry expects Professor Snape to storm in and break up the party at any moment, but he never does. 

Finally, around three o’clock in the morning, when their Head of House has yet to appear to give Harry an excuse to go to bed, he decides to hell with it and succumbs to his inner voice of reason, voiced by Remus, and withdraws to the dorms. 

He curls up in bed and lies awake for a while, listening to the muffled noises of the party while thinking about what happened between him and Draco in the Prefect’s Bathroom. When he finally drifts off into sleep, it’s with a small smile on his lips. 

*

It’s a much more subdued group of Slytherins that trudge up to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning and Professor Snape’s sharp glare from the staff table is the only thing keeping them all from collapsing into their porridge bowls. As it is, the students try their hardest to keep their backs and faces straight, in some semblance of sobriety. 

Harry is sure Professor Snape isn’t buying it, but at least they’re not giving him an outright excuse to march down the aisle and dole out detentions to each and every one of them. Which is something, Harry figures. With his stomach churning and head pounding, the last thing he needs is to be scrubbing cauldrons all night…

”Oh no…” Draco moans, slumping over in his seat and cradling his head. 

”Sit up straight”, Pansy hisses at him from across the table, while Harry whispers, ”Snape’s watching!”

”I don’t care”, the blonde mutters. ”I hate my life.”

”That’s a little melodramatic”, Pansy huffs with an eye-roll. 

”Oh yeah?” Draco says, shooting the girl a half-hearted glare from between his fingers. ”Look behind you…”

Pansy, Blaise, Theo and Daphne all frown and turn around in their seats, while Harry straightens up even more and follows their line of sight, but he can’t see anything out of the ordinary. The Gryffindors are looking a bit glum, but that’s to be expected after yesterday’s loss —

”Staff table”, Draco grunts. 

And that’s when Harry sees him. Hagrid. 

There’s a collective gasp between the Slytherins and Pansy swivels back around in her seat and leans forward, hissing furiously under her breath, ”They can’t be serious! They re-hired him? That’s outrageous!”

”Look at his face…” Blaise whispers, also turning back towards the table. ”I mean, look at it!”

Harry glances back over at the half-giant and winces. Not only are both his eyes black and swollen, but the rest of his face seems to be covered in cuts and bruises as well. 

”Rather not, thanks”, Daphne mumbles, voicing Harry’s own sentiments. 

”I feel sick…” Draco mutters next to him. 

”What do you think happened to him?” Harry murmurs, feeling a mixture of unease and intrigue as a myriad of possibilities flit through his mind. 

”Don’t want to think about it”, Blaise says immediately. 

”So sick…” Draco groans. 

”Seamus”, Harry whispers and nudges the boy next to him. ”Hagrid’s back!”

”Gnh…”

”Don’t bother”, Blaise says. ”He’s not awake yet…”

It’s with trepidation that the Slytherins make their way down the frosty slope towards Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors later that afternoon and when they catch up to the lions, it immediately becomes clear that the Slytherins aren’t the only ones feeling apprehensive. Even Granger looks wary and she’d been happy to see Hagrid in the Great Hall earlier, Harry remembers. Ron had looked happy too, and Fred and George had gone so far as to run up to him and shake his hand. Harry shakes his head. He doesn’t get how anyone could be happy to have the half-giant back as a teacher. 

Well, he concedes. If anyone other than Hagrid would enjoy life-threatening lessons, it would be Fred and George Weasley…

But anyone else — in their right mind — would be decidedly unhappy to have the half-giant back, since his bipolar lesson plans either genuinely puts their lives at risk or, alternatively, risks boring them to death. Whereas Professor Grubbly-Plank tends to veer away from both poles and stay in the middle of the spectrum, coming up with interesting yet simultaneously safe lessons for them. 

Why Dumbledore would ever go for Hagrid instead of her, Harry can’t imagine… But the lack of a ’right mind’ probably has something to do with it…

Hagrid is waiting for them at the edge of the Dark Forest with half a dead cow draped over his shoulder. Up close, his face look even worse than it had done earlier that morning. What skin that can be seen between the bushy beard and the unruly mane of hair are a patchwork of nasty green and yellow bruises and both eyes are swollen and black. A few cuts even seem to be fresh, still bleeding freely into the man’s beard. 

”We’re workin’ in here today!” Hagrid calls, looking perversely happy for someone who’s got their whole face magled, Harry thinks. 

Maybe that’s what it is. Maybe he gets off on being bashed around by monsters —

”Bit more sheltered, and anyway, they prefer the dark!”

”What prefers the dark?” Draco says sharply, his hand flying out to clamp down on Harry’s forearm. ”What did he say prefers the dark — did you hear?”

Harry shakes his head grimly and fights the urge to grab the other boy’s hand in a comforting grip.

”Ready?” Hagrid says excitedly, looking around at them all as if expecting cheers. ”I’ve bin savin’ a trip inter the Forest for yer fifth year, see… Thought we’d go an’ see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we’re studyin’ today is pretty rare, I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ’em —”

”And you’re sure they’re trained, are you?” Draco says drily, his voice betraying nothing of the fear that the bruising grip on Harry’s arm is an effect of. ”Only it wouldn’t be the first time you’d brought wild stuff to class, would it?”

Harry and the other Slytherins exchange grim looks, a few of the others murmuring in agreement. Harry catches Pansy leaning in to whisper something to Daphne, who nods furiously. 

”Course they’re trained”, Hagrid says gruffly, glaring at Draco. 

”So what happened to your face, then?” Draco demands. 

”Mind yer own business!” Hagrid snaps angrily. ”Now, if yeh’ve finished askin’ stupid questions, follow me!”

Without another word, the half-giant turns his back to them and begins to stride into the Forest. The class stays at the edge, exchanging hesitant looks. 

”We could refuse…” Draco mumbles, frowning uncertainly at the place where Hagrid had disappeared between the trees. 

They watch glumly as Granger takes a deep breath and begins to walk into the Forest as well, immediately followed by Ron and the other Gryffindors.

”I can’t get a zero”, Harry says. ”My daddy will kill me…”

”Unless Professor Snape kills us all first…” Blaise sighs.

That seems to be their collective deciding factor, because they begin to move as one, trudging through the trees, inching closer and closer to each other the further into the Forest they get, in some subconscious search for comfort in the proximity to one another. 

They walk for about ten minutes before they spot the Gryffindors ahead of them. The trees grow so closely together this deep into the Forest that no sunlight manages to break through their brances, which leaves the Forest nearly dark. 

Draco inches even closer to Harry and clucthes his arm with both hands. When they reach the place where Hagrid has stopped to put the dead cow down on the ground and the Gryffindors have gathered around him, Draco hides slightly behind Harry’s shoulder. 

”Now, they’ll be attracted by the smell o’ the meat, but I’m going ter give ’em a call anyway, ’cause they’ll like ter know it’s me…” Hagrid tells the class. 

He then turns around and belts out an oddly high-pitched shriek that makes the hairs in the back of Harry’s neck stand and he finds himself holding his breath and searching the darkness with frantic eyes while he waits for something to happen… Hagrid gives the shrieking cry again and Harry jumps slightly. Then he hears it… a snapped twig… something moving in the darkness… Draco is now cowering completely behind his back and clutching the back of his robes desperately with both his hands.

Then Harry sees it… 

A pair of blank, white, shining eyes swimming out of the dark space between two trees and a moment later, the sleek black, skeletal head and body of a winged creature… The same dragonlike horse creatures that were pulling the carriages, Harry realises. What had dad called them again? Teasrars? Theltasts?

”What’s he doing?” Draco whispers in his ear. ”Why is he just standing there? Why doesn’t he call it again?”

”Can’t you see it?” Harry says in surprise, before he remembers what Blaise had said about the creatures and why they were considered death omens — only people who have seen death can actually see them! 

Glancing around curiously, Harry can tell that most people are still scanning the darkness warily and only two other people — one of whom is Theo, much to Harry’s surprise — are looking directly at the creature, which has now begun to tear the flesh off the dead cow with its sharp fangs, causing Theo to grimace in disgust from his vantage point behind Goyle. The other person who appears to be able to see it is Longbottom and he is staring transfixed at the creature’s black tail, swishing from side to side. 

”See what?” Draco whispers, his voice trembling with fright.

”It’s… Those things…” Harry mumbles distractedly, catching Theo’s eye and giving the other boy a wry smile. 

”Oh, an’ here comes another one!” Hagrid says happily. 

”What?” Draco hisses hysterically. ”What is it?”

”It’s okay”, Harry murmurs quickly, turning to to look at the other boy over his own shoulder but being careful not to dislodge the boy’s hands from the back of his robes, since it seems to give him comfort to hold onto them. ”It’s nothing dangerous. It’s those things from the carriages, remember I said—?”

”Now… Put yer hands up, who can see ’em?” Hagrid asks. 

Harry glances back at the half-giant and the two winged creatures next to him. He hesitantly holds his hand up and in his peripheral, he can see Theo and Longbottom do the same. 

”Yeah…” Hagrid nods to him. ”Yeah, I knew yeh’d be able ter, Harry… An’ you too, Neville, eh? An’ —”

”Excuse me”, Draco says, still behind Harry’s back but pulling himself up to his full height so that he can glare at Hagrid over Harry’s shoulder. ”What exactly are we supposed to be seeing?”

Hagrid simply points to the cow carcass on the ground. After a second, several people jump back with a gasp and one of the Gryffindor girls — Harry thinks her name is Patil — lets out a terrified squeal and hides behind the nearest tree.

”What’s doing it?” she says in a terrified voice. ”What’s eating it?”

Oh, it must look very weird indeed, Harry realises. Seeing only strips of meat being pulled from the bones and then disappearing into thin air. 

”Thestrals”, Hagrid says proudly. 

Harry’s friends’ gazes all dart over to Harry and realisation flicker into their faces, as they probably also remember that first day of school when Harry told them he’d just seen a thestral outside. 

”But Hagrid”, the Patil girl exclaims from her hiding place behind the tree. ”They’re supposed to be really unlucky! Professor Trelawny once told me that they bring all sorts of horrible misfortune to people who can see them—!”

”No, no, no”, Hagrid says, shaking his massive head. ”Tha’s jus’ superstition! They aren’ unlucky, they’re dead clever an’ useful! Hogwarts has got a whole herd of ’em in here ’an they pull the school carriages at the start an’ end of the year — an’ if Dumbledore’s takin’ a long journey an’ don’ want ter Apparate — Oh, here’s another couple!”

Harry turns slightly to face Draco and gives him a reassuring smile. The blonde looks unnaturally pale in the gloom and his eyes are still filled with unease, but he doesn’t look terrified anymore. 

”Told you”, Harry whispers. 

”Righ’, now, who can tell me why some o’ yeh can see ’em and some can’t?”

Several of the Slytherins raise their hands and even Harry starts to tentaively raise his, but Hagrid turns to Granger with a beaming smile and tells her, ”Go on then!”

”The only people who can see thestrals are people who have seen death”, the Gryffindor girl says importantly. 

”Tha’s exactly right. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, thestrals —”

”Hem, hem…”

Harry spins around and sees Umbridge totter into sight from between the trees behind him, clipboard at the ready and he is immediately filled with the, by now familiar, all encompassing loathing for the woman. 

Hagrid doesn’t seem to have seen her yet, Harry notices. In fact, the half-giant is looking at the nearest thestral with a look of mild worry on his face, as if the woman’s ridiculous cough had come from one of the winged creatures. 

It’s not until she coughs again that he manages to locate the direction of the sound and spots her. He straightens up again and gives her a half wave. 

”You recieved the note — I sent — to your cabin — this morning?” Umbridge asks in an unusually loud and slow voice, enunciating extra carefully as if she was talking to a toddler or a deaf person. ”Telling you — that I — would be — inspecting — your lesson?”

”Oh, yeah! Glad yeh found the place all righ’!” Hagrid says, then gestures towards the thestrals. ”Well, as yeh can see — or, I dunno, can you? — we’re doing thestrals today—!”

”I’m sorry?” Umbridge interrupts loudly and cups her ear with a frown. ”What — did — you — say?”

”Er…” Hagrid blinks in confusion and glances around at the class uncertainly, then raises his voice and speaks a little more carefully, as if he thinks Umbridge is hard of hearing. ”THESTRALS! Big — er — winged horses, yeh know!”

To illustrate the point further, he flaps his arms and looks down at the woman hopefully. Umbridge raises her eyebrows, but gives him an exaggerated nod before she quickly bends over her clipboard and begins to scribble furiously, muttering under her breath as she does, ”Has… to… resort… to… crude… sign… language…”

Draco lets out a soft, incredulous chuckle next to Harry. 

”Er, well, anyway…” Hagrid mutters, his gaze flickering uncertainly between Umbridge and the class. ”Erm… What was I sayin’?”

”Appears… to… have… poor… short… term… memory…”

More students begin to titter. Harry himself is torn though, as much as he rather have Professor Grubbly-Plank back as their Care of Magical Creatures teacher, his hatred for Umbridge is significantly stronger than his dislike for Hagrid’s idea of teaching, and besides he does feel a bit bad for Hagrid. After all, even though he might be a giant oaf, he does mean well and Umbridge is clearly prejudiced against him because he’s part giant — or, as she would say, only part human… The fact that Harry knows she catalogues his daddy in that category as well, only makes him more reluctant to fuel her fire by joining in with the sniggers around him. 

”Oh yeah, I was gonna tell yeh how come we’ve got a herd”, Hagrid says with feigned enthusiasm, shifting his feet and glancing over at Umbridge’s clipboard every third second. ”Yeah, so, we started out with one male and five females —”

”Are — you — aware”, Umbridge interrupts him again in her overly loud and slow voice. ”That — the Ministry — classifies — thestrals — as dangerous?”

”Thestrals aren’ dangerous!” Hagrid exclaims with a chuckle. ”All righ’, they might take a bite outta yeh if yeh really annoy ’em —”

Draco inches closer to Harry’s back again and his chuckle seems to stick in his throat. 

”Shows… signs… of.. pleasure… at… idea… of… violence…” Umbridge mutters as she scribbles on her clipboard. 

”No — come on!” Hagrid protests feebly, his bruised forehead glistening with sweat now. ”I mean, a dog’ll bite yeh if yeh bait it, won’ it? — but thestrals ’ave jus’ got a bad reputation ’cause of the death thing!”

Umbridge ignores his comment and continues talking to him with her unnecessarily loud and slow voice and even starts using some sign language of her own to illustrate her points. Harry can only stare in disbelief, while Pansy and Daphne dissolve into peels of giggles next to him and Draco muffles his own snickers against his shoulder, all of them earning cold, furious glares from Granger.

Wonder if she finds anything funny? Harry thinks, trying to remember if he’s ever seen the girl laugh before.

The whole situation is so absurd, as the two professors descend into a conversation that is more sign-language than actual spoken words, that Harry almost joins in with his friends’ laughter. After all, it does look funny. But knowing that Umbridge is treating Hagrid like this because of her own predjudice towards so-called half-humans helps him keep a straight face. After all, it certainly wouldn’t be funny if she were to talk to his daddy like this.

Umbridge tells Hagrid to continue with his lesson while she talks to some of the students and he tries his hardest to get his enthusiasm back, but she’s clearly managed to break him out of his stride and he begins to falter and stammer. 

Umbridge approaches Pansy and asks her in a loud, carrying voice if she can understand Hagrid when he talks.

Clearly swept up in the hilarity of the situation and aiming to get Daphne to laugh loud enough to snort like a pig (one of the girl’s favourite passtimes, Harry has learned as he’s begun to spend more time with the girls), Pansy shakes her head and chokes out, ”Not really… because… well… it sounds like… grunting… a lot of the time!”

Umbridge nods eagerly and scribbles something down on her clipboard. 

”Er… yeah… good stuff abou’ thestrals”, Hagrid says loudly, obviously trying to pretend he didn’t hear Pansy’s answer although he clearly did, judging by the blush in his brusied cheeks and the panicked look in his eyes. ”Well, once they’re tamed, like this lot, yeh’ll never be lost again, I’ll tell… ’mazing sense of direction they’ve got… us’ tell ’em where yeh want ter go and —”

”Assuming they can understand you, of course”, Draco quips, causing both Pansy and Daphne to dissolve into renewed giggles. 

Umbridge gives them an indulgent smile, which is the only thing helping Harry to keep a straight face. 

”You can see the thestrals, Longbottom, is that right?” she asks, sidling up to the Gryffindor who nods timidly. ”Who did you see die, then?”

”My… my granddad”, the boy says quietly. 

”And what do you think of them?” she adds, gesturing in the general direction of the cow carcass with her chubby hand. 

”They’re… er… okay, I-I s-suppose…”

”Students… are… too… intimidated… to… admit… they… are… frightened…” Umbridge mutters as she scribbles. 

Harry frowns. 

”Oh, come on, lighten up…” Draco huffs later as they’re trudging through the snow back up to the castle. ”I hope he fails his inspection, because I don’t want him as a teacher. And don’t tell me you do, because I know you don’t!”

”No, I don’t”, Harry relents. ”But still. She didn’t have to…. humiliate him, did she?”

Draco shrugs. 

”It was funny though”, Pansy says happily behind them. ”Granger crying was just the icing on the cake!”

”Crying?” Harry says surprised.

”Well, as good as…” Pansy says flippantly. ”She definitely had tears in her eyes. I thought she was going to snap, she was so angry… That would have been even more brilliant, if she had. Just imagine. Granger snapping at a teacher and getting a detention for the first time in her life!”

Harry can’t deny that that would have been brilliant, but he still can’t shake his unease at having witnessed the way Umbridge treated Hagrid, especially knowing his dads’ reactions would have been quite the opposite to his friends’, if anything, it would have been similar to Granger’s… 

He still feels uneasy about it later that evening, but tries not to show it after Draco has rolled his eyes at him for the third time and knocked their shoulders together quite hard, as if hoping to physically jostle him out of his funk… Finally, as they’re all sitting in the Common Room working on their homework essays for McGonagall, the blonde snatches Harry’s from him and leans in to murmur in his ear, ”Come on, let’s go to bed, I’m sure I can think of a way to cheer you up again…”

Harry blinks startled and swallows. Just sitting this closely to Draco is enough to make his stomach flutter, especially when the blonde leans in to whisper in his ear like this and Harry can feel his warm breath against his skin, not to mention the whiff of coconut… But at the same time, he’s still a bit rattled by their latest sexual escapade, sure that the next time they disrobe and get physical with each other, Draco will want to take things to the next level… And as much as the thought of that arouses Harry, it also scares the shit out of him and he’s almost sure he isn’t ready for it quite yet — he just doesn’t know how to tell Draco that… What if he feels rejected and hurt? What if he feels frustrated? What if he gets angry?

”Or not…” Draco mutters, leaning back again with a frown. ”Harry?”

”What?” Harry says lightly, schooling his face into a nonchalant mask. 

”What’s wrong?”

”Nothing”, Harry lies smoothly. ”I’m just tired. I think I’m just going to go to bed — and sleep — I’m really tired.”

”Yeah, you said that”, Draco says, his frown deepening. 

”Right. Well, I should… Yeah…” he gathers up his homework and pushes to his feet. ”Good night, then…”

”What’s up with him?” he hears Pansy whisper behind him as he hurries across the Common Room towards the boys’ dorm. 

”Dunno…” Draco mutters dully. 

His weekly dose of Dreamless Sleep is waiting for him on top of the trunk at the end of the four-poster bed and Harry eyes it thoughtfully as he changes into his pyjamas, but in the end he crawls into bed without taking it. He rarely has nightmares anymore anyway and Harry wants Draco to be able to rouse him in case he wants to talk when he comes to bed… 

He dreams he’s floating on his back in the large bath tub in the Prefect’s bathroom, the scent of coconut enveloping him as his body grows lighter and his eyelids heavier… The water is pleasantly warm, not too hot and not too cool, but almost exactly body temperature, which makes him feel like he’s not in water at all, but floating in space… 

Arms emerge from the water on either side of his body and envelop him in a hug, pulling him backwards into a firm chest — Draco’s chest — and then they’re floating together, as one… 

Harry stretches out languidly, craning his neck over the rounded edge of a shoulder and squirming as he feels a familiar length of soft flesh hardening along the crack of his arse… 

Teeth graze the sensitive skin of his neck and he hisses… 

Then suddenly the chest and arms that envelop his body are gone again, as is the hard cock prodding his arse insistently. Draco is gone. Harry is alone again. But he’s not floating anymore, he’s gliding, slithering… across cool tiles, between metal bars and through cracks… his body is taut and flexible, powerful… he’s on his stomach in a long, dark, empty corridor, sliding along the stone floor effortlessly, glancing around him surreptitiously… 

But wait… it’s not empty, he realises. There’s a man at the end of the corridor, sitting on the floor with his back to the door, his head hanging heavily against his chest… is he dead? 

Harry sticks his tongue out and tastes the man’s scent on the air; he is not dead, merely sleeping… Oh, how Harry wants to bite the man! 

But he mustn’t, he tells himself. He must master the impulse, because he has more important things to do and very little time in which to do them —

The man stirs suddenly. His eyes begin to flutter open, then snaps open wide as he spots Harry in front of him. The man’s silver Cloak falls to the floor as he jumps to his feet and reaches for his wand —

I’ve no choice, Harry thinks. 

Just as the man plucks his wand from his belt and points it at him, Harry rears up from the floor, stretching high into the air. The man’s face pales and he gasps, a hex on the tip of his tongue, but he’s too late — Harry strikes, his sharp fangs sinking into pliant flesh, once, twice, and on the third time a rib snaps between his jaws… A pained scream is wrenched from the man’s throat and he collapses back againstt he door, before slumping to the floor… 

Harry watches impassively as the man passes out in a small pool of his own blood. Harry can taste it in his own mouth; warm and coppery, so delicious… His entire being is thrumming with hunger, but he knows he can’t indulge, not here, not now… His master will be most displeased as it is, he can’t afford to get caught too —

The building tension in his head spikes, he presses his eyes shut and focuses on his breathing — he feels like his head will explode — 

”Harry! HARRY!”

He startles awake and sits up in his sweat-damp bed. For a moment he imagines he can still smell and taste blood, but gradually the scent of coconut overpowers the coppery tang. Draco. 

”Harry? You’re okay, it was just a nightmare—”

”No”, Harry gasps and before he’s even aware of what he’s doing, he’s pushes past the blurry blonde blob perched on the side of his bed and stumbled to his feet. 

”Harry—!”

”No, no, it was real”, Harry mutters, whirling around, disoriented. ”I was there, I saw it, I did it, I…”

The pain in his head intensifies and for a second, black stars explode in his eyes. He whirls back around and clutching his head desperately, he sinks to the floor and retches. 

”Harry…”

He feels Draco’s hands on him, his slender fingers trembling but firm as they clutch his shoulders. 

”What’s going on?” Blaise sleep-gravelly voice pipes up from the other end of the dorm. 

”Harry’s just had a bad drea—” Draco says, but Harry shakes his head firmly and waves a hand in his direction to shut him up. 

”It wasn’t a dream!” he exclaims loudly. 

”Harry, please”, Draco begs softly. ”You’ll wake everyone u—”

”I don’t care! I need to go…”

He shoves Draco out of the way and staggers to his feet again. He snatches his glasses blindly from the bedside table and puts them on. As soon as Draco comes into focus and Harry can see the hurt look in his eyes, he feels bad. 

But the vision, or whatever it was, is more important, he tells himself. 

I need to tell someone, I need to tell Snape, while there’s still time to save him —

”Harry, you’re scaring me!”

”I’m sorry”, Harry says and stalks over to the door. 

”You need to go with him”, he hears Blaise murmur behind him just before the door closes.