Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13150203.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling
  Relationship:
      Draco_Malfoy/Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy/Original_Male_Character(s),
      Hermione_Granger/Ron_Weasley, Draco_Malfoy/Tom_Riddle_|_Voldemort
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Draco_Malfoy, Hermione_Granger, Original_Male_Character(s),
      Ron_Weasley, Blaise_Zabini, Gregory_Goyle, Pansy_Parkinson, Tom_Riddle_|
      Voldemort, Lucius_Malfoy, Narcissa_Black_Malfoy
  Additional Tags:
      Room_of_Requirement, Curses, Sexual_Abuse, Child_Abuse, Rape/Non-con
      Elements, Dubious_Consent, Group_Sex, Gangbang, Drugs, Hurt/Comfort, Past
      Abuse, Blackmail, Revenge, Mating_Cycles/In_Heat, ish, Sex_is_the_only
      way, Top_Harry, Bottom_Draco_Malfoy, Desperation, Comfort_Sex, Gentle
      Sex, First_Kiss, First_Time, Anal_Sex, Anal_Fingering, Magic, Lube,
      Exhaustion, Help, Christmas, Christmas_Fluff, Christmas_Presents
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-26 Chapters: 2/? Words: 9915
****** This Class is Ridiculous ******
by pocketwatchangora
Summary
     Harry's suspicions about Malfoy turn into something very different,
     and he finds himself seeing Draco completely differently
***** Chapter 1 *****
Harry was looking over the Marauder’s Map, trying to find Malfoy. He hasn’t
seen him around for a couple of days so, naturally, he was suspicious. Now he'd
found him, walking just coming up to the 7th floor, surrounded by four other
boys' names: Slytherins in the year above, Harry was fairly sure. If Draco was
enlisting the help of older, more advanced, wizards then Harry needed to know
why.
He grabbed his invisibility cloak and left the Common Room, not even bothering
to tell his friend’s where he was off to. He found himself running towards
Malfoy and his unusual posse, watching his own footsteps approaching theirs,
when suddenly, the group of footsteps vanished from the map. Harry stopped in
his tracks, staring down at the enchanted parchment in utter confusion. Then he
realised...the Room of Requirement! Of course, the Room was perfect for any
Death Eaters’ plans go become reality. Harry ducked into a boys’ bathroom and
pulled on his cloak before re-emerging, invisible. He found the tapestry of
Barnabas the Balmy and his trolls, and began pacing back and forth, thinking
about all the things Malfoy and those 7th years could be doing to aid the Dark
Lord.
Once he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, he sat down against the
wall, determined to wait until they left and hoping to sneak in when the door
was open.
Harry woke up to voices, laughing and jeering, opening his eyes to see the wall
opposite him, where the bricks were usually all there was, had become an ornate
doorway, and several 7th year boys were filing through it.
“Damn, I needed that.” One was saying with a grin, making the others laugh,
rowdily agreeing and adding.
“It was so good, right?”
“He could charge money and I'd pay, literally.” It wasn’t until they were
letting the door close that Harry realised Draco wasn’t with them anymore. He
could hear them making dirty, sexual comments as they walked along the
corridor, nudging each other and laughing. Suddenly Harry felt a pang of worry
for Malfoy, realising what they’d been doing wasn’t to further Voldemort's
cause...it was to have sex! Four older boys...what if they forced Draco? What
if they hurt him of worse?! Harry leapt the doors, but too late, his fingers
scrabbled at the increasingly smooth stone until the doors appeared to never
have existed. Harry swore, and recommended his pacing, his thoughts racing with
one sentence over and over.
I need to see if Malfoy is ok. I need to see if Malfoy is ok. I need to see if
Malfoy is ok.
He walked back and forth for what felt like hours, his heart racing in his
ears, when finally, the same ornate doors appeared in the wall. Harry let out a
sigh of relief, and rushed in.
He was surprised to the find the room much smaller than usual, about the size
of his dormitory. A fire was crackling merrily in the hearth beneath a carved
mantelpiece, adorned with roses and thorns. There was a thick rug on the stone
floor in front of the fire, as well as two large sofas.
Opposite the hearth, was a large four-poster bed with pale, sheer curtains
drawn back by heavy gold rope, and lying on the mattress amongst the ruffled
sheets was Draco Malfoy. He was naked, lying on his back, his arms and legs at
odd angles, like he’d been dropped from a height. His eyes were open, but half
lidded, staring up at the bed’s red velvet canopy.
“M…Malfoy?” Harry asked, thinking it better he made himself known as soon as
possible. Draco jumped at his voice, and sat up quickly, but his expression was
pained and he looked very pale, his white gold hair completely dishevelled. He
fumbled for his wand, but it rolled off the bed and clattered loudly on the
stone floor. The liquid silver eyes narrowed at him, looking angry and confused
and...scared?
“Potter…? What do you- H-how did you get in?” he demanded, looking between
Harry and where the door usually appeared, now blank wall once again.
“It…the room let me in…” he sort of lied, leaving out the fact he’d tracked him
down and waited for him for over an hour, then begged the room to let him in to
check on his nemesis. “Are…are you ok…?” he asked. He could see that, even from
a distance, Draco was trembling, and his skin clearly beginning to bruise in
places. He rested back on one elbow, curling his body to the side, perhaps
attempting to stand up. His movements were slow, like he was fighting some
invisible force, and he looked feverish. He let out a small, almost inaudible,
whimper, his hand gripping the rumpled sheets beneath him.
Harry had never seen Malfoy so…vulnerable. He didn’t have any witty, snake-
tongued comments, no insults to hurl at him…it was like he’d lost all his
fight…and Harry didn’t like that. “Do you need anything? I can run and get
Madam Pomfrey if you’re hurt-”
“I-I don’t need your pity… Get out…!” he tried to shout, sound angry, but his
voice came out shaky, and weak with pain. His hair fell over his face, but
Harry could swear he saw a glistening track slowly making its way down his
cheek. His jaw was clenched, shoulder blades stabbing out from beneath his skin
as he hunched over, tense.
“I’m not leaving you alone like this.” Harry said decisively, no one deserved
to be left alone like this, abused and discarded. He saw the darkest bruises
were on his bony hips, and more were forming on his delicate wrists, the size
of men’s hands.
Malfoy glared at him through his white veil of hair, then let out a shaky sigh.
“Make yourself useful then…get my wand…” he said, his voice wavering slightly.
Harry nodded and obeyed, going around the bed to retrieve it. He found it
quickly, though had to get on his knees to reach under the bed for it. He went
back round to give it to Draco, who was slowly and shakily trying to push
himself off the bed. Without thinking it through, Harry took hold of Draco’s
skinny bicep in an attempt to assist him.
“Let me help you-” he started, but Draco jolted away from the touch like he’d
been burned, slapping his hand away savagely. Harry looked at him to find
terror in his eyes, and anger and sadness. He didn’t speak, just stared at him,
and Harry looked down. “Sorry…I won’t touch you again…” he said softly. He saw
Draco’s jaw tighten but he didn’t say anything. He waved his wand over himself.
“Coriumtersus,” he said softly, and his skin became clean and dry before
Harry’s eyes, including whatever was on his thighs. Draco glanced at Harry
before lowering his voice even more to murmur “Internumtersus,” his breath
catching and back shivering as he waved his wand. He sighed, placing a shaky
hand on the bedpost, using it as support as he slid himself off the bed. His
feet barely touched the ground before his knees buckled and he almost fell, but
Harry caught him.
“Malfoy, for God’s sake…” he muttered, hauling the skinny boy back onto the
bed. Draco hissed in discomfort when his bum hit the mattress, making Harry
feel a bit bad. “Look, just…stay there, until you feel better…” he said with a
sigh. Malfoy glared at him, but obeyed, pushing himself to lie on his side
across the bed. “Where are your clothes?” Harry asked him, trying not to look
at Malfoy’s arse.
“They…disintegrated…” Draco muttered, sounding deeply annoyed. Harry frowned,
and sighed, pulling off his own robes to drape over Malfoy. The blond looked at
him, about to be offended by Harry’s pity, but seemed to check himself and
accepted the sheltering, covering fabric, still warm from Harry’s skin. He
sighed and lay down, his eyes closing by themselves before he forced them open.
“You can sleep if you want to…” Harry said, thinking Draco probably needed more
sleep. Malfoy glared at him, defiance and mistrust in his colourless eyes. “I
can leave if-” but to his surprise, Draco’s eyes widened before he seemed to be
able to stop it, and he looked down.
“No, Potter…don’t go…” he said softly, blushing a very delicate pink. Harry
faltered for a moment, surprised and delighted.
“Ok.” He said, and Malfoy glanced at him. Harry noticed again that he was
trembling, despite the warm cloak over him and the warm room. “Are you…feeling
ok? You’re shaking…” Draco sighed, ignoring the question.
“If you’re so concerned, Potter…pass me that water jug and a glass.” He said,
pointed to the table beside Harry. He obeyed, bringing the jug full of iced
water and lemon, and a glass. He placed them both on the ornate bedside table,
the top surface of which was inlaid with rose motifs. Draco sighed, and pushed
himself to sit up slowly. His brow furrowed and his jaw tightened in apparent
discomfort, but he was able to do it himself, though Harry was poised to help
him if he asked. He settled himself back on the cushions, pulling Harry’s robe
on the way it was designed so it covered him completely.
Harry saw Draco’s hand shakily reach for water jug and, doubting he’d be able
to lift it right now, poured a glass out for him. He handed it over before
Draco could protest, and Malfoy only gave him a small glare before sitting
forward to sip the cool liquid, holding the glass in both hands.
He sighed once he’d swallowed, drinking the rest slightly more desperately. He
put the glass back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and Harry could
see him watching him out of the corner of his eye. Harry realised he was
standing over Draco somewhat ominously, and he moved away to sit on the end of
the bed. He looked around the room, thinking it felt similar to the Gryffindor
dorms.
He looked at Draco to see him doing the same, his hand absently touching the
soft fabric of the quilt.
“Is in here as nice as the Slytherin dorms?” he asked. Draco looked a bit
surprised by the question but sighed.
“They’re cold and dark.” He said simply, combing his ruffled hair back with his
fingers, trying to retain some dignity, and looking almost his usual self.
“Crabbe and Mott both snore like gravel in a blender…” he muttered, surprising
Harry both with the very Muggle phrase, and his honesty.
“So does Neville.” He said with a chuckle, and looked up to see Draco looking
at him, suspiciously. “What?” he asked.
“Why…are you here…? Why did you come in, you must have asked the room to open.”
he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Harry cleared his throat nervously and
shrugged.
“I just…wanted to make sure you’re ok…” Draco frowned, still staring at him.
Harry sighed, deciding Draco would prefer him to be honest. “I was…worried
about you. I am worried about you.”
“Worried…?” he asked slowly, like the concept itself completely baffled him.
“Yeah…just, you know, seeing you…like this… Being mistreated…” Draco pushed
himself up on one arm at that, angry, though his face paled a little at the
movement.
“I wasn’t mistreated. Don’t you understand? I wanted this.” He said, but his
eyes betrayed him. Harry looked at him a moment, then sighed.
“Your…your shoulder’s bleeding…” Harry said, almost like it made his point.
Draco faltered. He forced himself to sit up, drawing his long legs up and
pulling Harry’s robes to cover himself. He moved a shaking hand to messily
smear the small trickle making its way down his chest, coming from what could
have been a bite mark, or a blade’s. He looked at the red on his hand, frowning
at it. “Did you want that?” Harry asked him. Draco looked at him, then sighed,
wiping the blood on Harry’s robe. He looked down, his expression sad. He seemed
to think for a moment, then spoke.
“They gave me a potion…I don’t know what it was.” He said quietly. Harry was
horrified by this, not to mention that Draco would allow himself to be given
some mystery potion. “They often do – it makes me dizzy and tired…” Harry was
about to express his profound distress at this practice but stopped. “I know
it’s stupid, but I prefer it honestly…it makes it feel less real…”
“Draco…do they, um- they don’t force you, do they…?” Harry asked, terrified.
Draco smirked coldly and shrugged.
“Not really…” he said vaguely. “My body needs it, but my mind would rather be
elsewhere.” He said. If Draco saw Harry’s confusion, he ignored it, crossing
his arms over his skinny chest casually. Harry swallowed thickly, wanting more
answers from Draco while he was being so open.
“Why do you…um… When did you start…you know…um-”
“Sleeping around?” Draco asked, impatient with Potter’s stuttering. The blond
sighed, resting his head back against the headboard, looking up at the bed’s
canopy. “Last year.”
“Was that your first time?” Harry asked, surprised Malfoy was being so honest,
but he assumed maybe it was a side effect of whatever those bastards had given
him to make him so compliant. He felt guilty, taking advantage of him after he
was clearly drugged, but what other chance would he get?
Draco shook his head, his steely eyes closing slowly. Harry thought he’d fallen
asleep for a moment, then the space between the thin eyebrows creased.
“I was raped my first time.” He said finally. Harry stared at him, horrified.
“W…what…?” he asked, his blood running cold.
“When I was 15, over the summer before 5th year.” He said, turning his head to
the side, away from Harry. He wasn’t crying, but his jaw was tight and his
voice shaky and quiet. “Someone…someone came to the house and…” he stopped,
then looked at Harry with those stormy eyes. There was pain in his eyes, more
pain than Harry had ever seen, caged inside a body and mind that desperately
denied it was there. “It was…V-…V-…” he looked frustrated for a moment, as if
trying to say the name but couldn’t.
“No… Voldemort was your-…?” Harry wanted to cry, it was so awful. Someone so
evil taking something so precious, and so young. Draco flinched at the name,
involuntarily, and nodded stiffly, looking down.
“He came to our house and said…my father needed to do something to pay for his
treachery. After the Chamber of Secrets…he was furious with my father. He
wanted to kill him, make us lose everything, but…I suppose he wanted something
else out of it. S-so…father asked him what he wanted. ‘Anything, my Lord’, he
said.”
“Anything?” the high, cruel voice asked, amused. Lucius Malfoy nodded from his
position on the floor, the crackling fire behind making him look like he was
burning along with the logs. The Dark Lord pretended to think for a moment, his
long claw-like fingernails clacking loudly against the mahogany table was
amplified in the silent room.
“Yes, my Lord, anything that is within my power to bestow!” Lucius promised
pathetically, desperation in his eyes. He didn’t want to die.
“Very well. Draco, come here.” He hissed. Draco’s felt everything go cold,
every happy thought ejected from his conscious, like there was a dementor right
beside him. The Dark Lord hadn’t spoken to him at all when Lucius was
introducing him, just glanced over him, unimpressed.
He felt Narcissa jump beside him, her gasp loud before she thought to stop it.
Lucius looked over at his son, his face blank with terror.
Voldemort’s gleaming red eyes turned to stare at Draco, and he shivered. A grin
slowly crept over the snake-like face. “Draco. Come here.” He said again, his
voice ripping through the room like a slashing blade. Draco felt his mother’s
hand grip his shoulder tightly, as if trying to stop him going. But he stepped
forward, and she let go, he heard her begin to cry into her handkerchief. He
walked across the cold marble of his home’s sitting room, where he liked to sit
for hours in one of the big cushiony armchairs to read.
His eyes were fixed on the Dark Lord, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure
everyone could hear it. His father stood up slowly, his breathing shaking as he
stared at his son.
Draco stopped just out of Voldemort’s reach, staring up at him, utterly
terrified but trying to keep his face still, his Malfoy blood running cold. The
Dark Lord towered over the 15-year-old, his waxy, scale-like skin luminous in
the dimly light room, the orange light from the fire making his red eyes burn
as he grinned down at the boy.
“Come closer, Draco. Let me touch you.” He hissed, making Draco want to scream
and run. He gulped, unable to blink as he looked up at him, and stepped
forward. A long, horrible hand extended from the sleeve of his black robes, the
icy skin touching his own and making Draco’s breathing catch, resisting the
overwhelming urge to move away from the chilling touch.
“M…my Lord…?” Lucius’ voice asked hesitantly, after what felt like hours of
Voldemort staring at Draco, his cold skin turning his veins to ice.
“Draco will be sufficient as repayment.” The high voice said finally, still
grinning cruelly at the child before him. “I will come here once a month, while
he is at home. During these times, he is mine, and we are not to be disturbed.
I believe that is well within your power, Lucius…” he said, mockingly, his evil
eyes never once leaving Draco’s terrified ones. The cold hand moved from
Draco’s cheek to grip his bony shoulder tightly, moving to stand beside him.
“Come, Draco, we can begin settling your father’s debt immediately…” he said,
his fingers snaked down Draco’s spine to the small of his back, pushing him
towards the door. Draco looked back with wide eyes. His parents stood in front
of the fire, their shoulders hunched and heads down, Lucius staring back at him
blankly while Narcissa sobbed bitterly into her handkerchief, refusing to touch
her husband.
“He laughed when I screamed…and he liked it when I bled…” he muttered, shaking
his head. Harry felt like he was listening to someone’s nightmare. He couldn’t
imagine anything worse. Draco sighed shakily, like he’d been complaining about
a lot of homework, something trivial. “Every time I have sex, I’m being raped…I
never want to. It’s my body, it…it’s cursed or… I need to have sex, or I start
to feel…awful, like I’m dying, like I’m on fire. But I never want to.
These…people I meet here, I don’t want to have sex with any of them, but I have
to, to make it stop.” He said, finally looking at Harry with wide eyes.
He wasn’t crying, but he wanted to, Harry could see that, plain as day. “He
owns me…” he said softly, looking down. The moment the first tear fell, Harry
darted forward and pulled Draco Malfoy into his arms to hug him tightly. Draco
didn’t even try to resist, crying into Harry’s shoulder. He was almost
completely silent, though, his tears only apparent when Harry’s shirt became
damp under his head. He hugged Draco tightly, rubbing his bony back through his
own robes.
“It’s ok, Draco… He can’t touch you here, you’re safe…”
“I know he can’t…” Draco said softly, his voice small. “But he’s there w-when I
go home…I hate the sight of it now, it makes me feel sick… My parents’ faces
make me want to scream and…I-I can’t breathe in my own room, where I’ve slept
since I was born…!” he sobbed the last part, his poor body shaking. Harry
instinctively held him closer, moving him to sit across his own lap so he might
feel safe, wrapping his arms around his nemesis protectively. Harry shushed him
gently, murmuring reassuring words he didn’t believe. If Draco was under
Voldemort’s control, the only way to stop it was to kill the Dark Lord.
They stayed there, like that, for a while. Harry had no idea how long until he
realised Draco had fallen asleep. His head was on Harry’s shoulder, his body
curled up in his lap, fingers still idly holding Harry’s shirt where they’d
previously been clutching it for dear life. Harry’s heart swelled unexpectedly
when he saw Draco’s face, slightly pink and blotchy around his sore eyes, but
so serene… He’d never seen anyone look so relaxed, it was wonderful to see
after so much pain and sadness that had been there before.
Harry very gently moved them both to lie down against the pillows, not wishing
to wake Draco up, and couldn’t compel himself to sit up again and leave.
Instead, he kicked off his own shoes, placed his glasses on the bedside table,
pulled the quilt over the both of them, and closed his eyes.
*
Harry woke up very early in the morning, before Draco, feeling surprisingly
refreshed and happy. He’d never really woken up beside anyone before, except
Ron, and that one time he and Dudley had been forced to share a bed, but never
like this.
His arms were wrapped around Draco’s waist, their bodies close and warm. He
would have been aroused if it hadn’t been for his knowledge of Draco’s sexual
past, and how much pain it caused the Malfoy boy. Learning about what he’d been
through with Voldemort, of all people…made Harry want to wrap his arms around
Draco and never let go. He made a vow to the sleeping boy beside him, that when
he finally did kill the Dark Lord, Draco would be one of the people he did it
for.
It was a short while before Draco woke up. The silver eyes opened slowly,
blinking himself awake after a little stretch and experimental snuggle into
Harry’s warmth. His vision focussed on Harry, and his face went from sleepy, to
confused, to horrified in about 3 seconds. He jerked away from Harry, looking
around frantically, drawing himself up and away from him.
“P-Potter?! What- Where- Why are you-…!” he trailed off, completely baffled.
Harry sat up, clearly showing himself to be fully dressed, putting on his
glasses.
“Calm down, Malfoy. Do you remember anything?” he asked steadily, rubbing his
eyes of sleep. “You were quite high, to be honest…” Draco glared at him for a
moment, slowly realising that all he was wearing was Gryffindor robes and where
he was. His expression cleared slightly as he began to recall the events, but
still looked at Harry with suspicion.
“I remember…why I was in here… You…you came in and…and we talked…?” he asked
slowly, looking at Harry as if begging for confirmation, either that all they
had done was talk, or that he hadn’t said anything incriminating in his drugged
state.
“We did talk, yeah. You told me some...disturbing stuff… You cried until you
fell asleep and…I suppose I didn’t want to, you know, leave…” he told him
honestly. “I ended up falling asleep too…and here we are.” Draco seemed to be
having a personal battle in his own head, frowning slightly at Harry, then he
sighed deeply.
“I haven’t slept that well in a long time…” he admitted softly. Harry grinned.
“Me neither actually. Lucky neither of us snore, I suppose.” He said. Draco
smirked despite himself, and glanced at him.
“Thank you, Potter… Usually after I come here…I leave alone and it’s cold and…-
Thanks…” he finished, apparently both impatient and shy with his words. Harry
smiled, and checked his watch.
“Well, it’s only 5 o’clock…we could sleep a bit more…” Draco looked at him for
a moment, possibly tempted, then shook his head.
“I want to get back, so no one asks questions…” he said, shifting towards the
edge of the bed. Harry nodded his agreement, though he knew his own friends no
longer questioned him when he was inexplicably absent. He watched Draco
gingerly push himself off the bed and stand up, using the bed post for support.
He seemed much stronger than he had the night before, the sleep erasing the
potion’s effects and healing his body. “I…I don’t have any clothes…” he said,
looking down at Harry’s robes and his own bare feet. They’d even destroyed his
shoes, laughing about how his daddy would just buy him a nicer pair.
“Oh, right… You can wear my robes for now, I’ll walk you back under my
invisibility cloak.” He said. Draco turned to look at him, and nodded, looking
down before turning away. Harry sighed, yawned, and moved to sit on the edge of
the bed to put his shoes back on. Thinking about it, he pulled his socks off
and held them out to Draco. “Put these on, your feet must be freezing.” He said
imperiously. Draco looked at the socks, his nose wrinkling with mild disgust,
but took them and pulled them onto his obviously cold feet. Harry smirked and
put his shoes on his bare feet, strangely reminded of the day he set Dobby free
from the Malfoy family.
He stood up, grabbing his invisibility cloak from where he’d left it over the
back of the sofa. Draco followed him to where the door had appeared in the
previously blank wall and they both got under Harry’s cloak, heading down to
the Slytherin dungeons. They didn’t speak, sneaking through the corridors and
down the stairs. They had to stay close together under the cloak to make sure
it covered them both fully. Harry could hear Draco’s teeth chattering in the
silence of the corridor, and resisted a strange urge to put his arm around him.
They finally arrived at the Slytherin common room, Draco having whispered
‘agoraphobia’ to a blank wall in the dungeons, which then dissolved to reveal
the passageway. They went in and Draco quickly grabbed a discarded Slytherin
robe from a chair.
“Close your eyes.” He hissed at Harry, who obeyed mostly. He caught a glimpse
of a pale, bony shoulder and the profile of a hard little nipple as Draco
swapped Harry’s robe for this one. The robe, and his socks, were then placed
into Harry’s hands, and Draco told him to leave before ducking out from under
the cloak.
“Ok, night.” Harry said without really thinking. Draco glared in the vague
direction of Harry’s invisible form, and marched off to his dormitory, wearing
a huge robe, and barefooted. Harry smirked, and went back up to his own bed in
Gryffindor tower.
***** Chapter 2 *****
“Hermione…are there lots of different kinds of curses?” Harry asked her one day
when they were sitting in the library together. Ron was in a detention with
Snape, after he accidentally tipped over a whole shelf of ingredients when he
was hexed with a leg-locking spell in Potions. He’d tried to blame one of the
Slytherins for jinxing him, but of course Snape ignored his protests despite
the Slytherins in question were all laughing victoriously behind him, including
Malfoy. Hermione looked up from her copy of History of Magic: Obscure Edition
with a slight frown.
“Yes…of course there are. There’s lots of different kinds of all magic.” She
said. He nodded slowly, trying to think of a way to ask her that wasn’t
incredibly obvious.
“And…can a curse last for a person’s whole life?” he asked. Her frown deepened,
sighing as she put her quill down.
“A long-lasting curse will stay on the person as long as the caster is alive.
Once that person is dead, the curse is usually lifted.”
“Usually?” she shrugged, her eyes lighting up as they always did when she got
to explain something.
“Some spells will last as long as the wand that cast it remains intact, even if
its owner is dead…I think there’s a few very rare spells that last forever, and
there’s certainly ones where their effects do, like how the Cruciatus curse can
make people go insane… Why?” she asked. He shrugged, trying to look casual as
he sat back in his chair.
“Just wondering…” he said, glancing at her. She was looking at him suspiciously
and he sighed, why did she always know when he was lying? “I…I’ve heard of
some…sexual curses…” he saw Hermione blush instantly, but didn’t look up at her
for fear of doing the same. “Um, like ones that…make the person feel really
unwell and stuff if they don’t…you know…” he finished, feeling extremely
awkward. At least Ron wasn’t there.
“Well…I have heard of things like that…not that in particular but there are
spells that can affect someone’s body… It’s dark magic, Harry.” She added,
almost warningly. He looked at her, seeing a mild worry in her eyes behind her
embarrassment. “Why do you want to know about it?” she asked. Harry sighed,
wanting to share it with someone, and he knew he could trust her with this
secret, even though it wasn’t his. He leaned forward over the table, and she
did the same so they were close enough to talk quietly. He cast a Muffliato
spell around them for good measure, he knew Draco would be rather die than
anyone find out about his condition. Hermione stared at him, somewhere between
alarmed and intrigued
“Ok so, you know…last week when I didn’t come back to the dorm. I said I’d gone
to the Shrieking Shack to clear my head?” he asked and she nodded that she did
recall. “I lied…I was in the Room of Requirement…with Malfoy.” He said. She
looked surprised, but listened intently as he told her everything Draco had
told him about Voldemort and what he has to do to keep himself healthy.
“Oh my God, how awful… Poor Draco!” she said, looking upset. “So you think You-
Know-Who cursed him to need to do these…things?” Harry nodded. “But why? For
revenge?”
“I dunno, maybe… Or he’s just a sick, perverted sadist… Either way…spending
that time with Draco made me realise…he’s been through so much horrible shit,
it’s no wonder he’s such a prick really. Imagine living in a house full of
Death Eaters, and then being…-” he stopped himself saying any more, it made him
want to scream. She was nodding, looking down. “Is there any way to break a
curse like that? Without killing the caster?”
“I don’t know, Harry, I’m sorry… I assume going to the Room of Requirement
with…people, gets rid of his symptoms?” she asked, clearly still embarrassed
they were discussing it. Harry sighed and nodded.
“He hates it…said it’s like being raped every time. They gave him a potion so
he’d feel dizzy and not really notice – his body needs it, but he pretends he’s
somewhere else…” he said, still so sad about it. Hermione bit her lip, looking
like she was about to cry. “When I kill Voldemort…I’ll do it for Draco now
too.” He said. She looked at him and smiled, nodding.
“Add him to the list.” She said, making him smile too.
*
Time passed normally after that, although Harry certainly took more notice of
Draco now. He looked sad sometimes, when he wasn’t engaged in conversation or
studying, and his friend’s certainly seemed to care about him which was good to
see. A few instances when the Malfoy boy looked a little off, one of his friend
would touch his shoulder and speak to him softly, to which he would smile and
now, his mask of normality sliding into place.
Just over a month after their time together, Harry saw Draco with same group of
7th year Slytherins heading upstairs. It was during dinner, Harry running late
after falling asleep in the library finishing a Potions essay, the corridors
empty. Draco, though not short by any means, looked tiny in the midst of the
huge Neanderthals he was with, his eyes uncharacteristically down as they
passed. Harry fought the urge to follow, to stop them going into that room and
treating Draco so badly again, but he didn’t, couldn’t. He wished he could do
something to help his situation, if only he was a better wizard...he wondered
if even Dumbledore would be able to erase Voldemort's curse... Harry let out a
sigh of frustration and headed into dinner.
The Christmas holidays arrived with snow. Hermione was going to Lapland for a
skiing holiday, and Ron's family were going to see Charlie in Romania, so Harry
had decided to stay at school and have some time alone, which he was rather
looking forward to.
On the 21st, he went to the train station to say goodbye to the others, knowing
they were worried he'd spend the entire winter break consumed by his conspiracy
theories, only worsened when they saw Draco bidding his friends goodbye as
well. Harry felt a pang of sadness and anger at this, realising going home for
Draco must be the worst experiences of his life. He watched out of the corner
of his eye as Pansy spoke seriously to Draco, holding his shoulder tightly as
he nodded, and they hugged like good friends. Then Blaise said something that
made Draco laugh and they hugged too, Harry feeling a strange surge of
jealously as Blaise’s hand dropped innocently to Draco’s lower back.
“So we'll see you after New Year, ok, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning slightly
at him. He looked at her and grinned, nodding.
“Yeah, have fun skiing.” He said, knowing she wasn’t exactly looking forward to
it. She rolled her eyes with a smile and hugged him.
“Please Draco alone, Harry, for both your sakes.” She said in his ear softly.
He nodded.
“Don’t worry, I’m gonna keep to myself. Thinking about doing some research into
being an Auror.” He said as they parted. She smiled and nodded, saying that was
a good idea, before boarding the train with everyone else. He waved as the
train drew away, then headed back to the castle.
*
Harry was just walking back from Christmas Eve dinner when he noticed someone
leaning against the wall a little way along the corridor, sort of hunched over
like they were in pain. Being who he was, Harry went over to them, hoping
nothing was seriously wrong with them. As he got closer, he saw it was a
Slytherin boy, and he was shaking terribly, his pale hand tense on the cold
stone. Harry glanced around, seeing they were alone in the hallway, the castle
being practically empty at the moment.
“Draco?” he asked when he was close enough to see the white gold hair. The boy
jumped and turned, clearly in a lot of discomfort. His face was flushed and he
was panting, shaking hand clutching the front of his robes tightly. His eyes
were misty and unfocussed, like he had been hit with an Imperius curse or
something.
“Potter…” he managed to get out, sliding down the wall a tiny bit as his
strength seemed to flow out of him. Harry expected him to be rude, tell him to
leave him alone, try to retain some of his Malfoy pride, but what he actually
said stunned Harry completely. “H-help me…” Draco begged softly, his eyes
welling with tears of desperation. Harry swore and reached out, impulsively, to
grab his arm, but Draco flinched dramatically at the contact, biting his lip as
he let out a moan, his body jerking.
“Shit…this is what happens then…” Harry muttered, though Draco probably
couldn’t hear him. He was curling into himself, his shaking so bad he could
hardly stand. Harry grabbed his around the waist, ignoring his little gasps,
and hightailed it up the stairs to the Room of Requirement, practically
carrying Draco. The Malfoy boy was close to fainting when they arrived at the
tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching ballet to his trolls. “What do you ask
for?” Harry asked Draco.
“S-somewhere to fuck…” Draco ground out, tears rolling down his heated face.
Harry swore and forced him to pace back and forth three times in front of the
blank wall, thinking the extremely embarrassing request over and over. Finally,
the ornate doors appeared, and Harry rushed them inside. It was the same as
before: the same bed, the same fireplace, sofas, and rug. Harry took Draco over
to the bed, and lay him down on the mattress, where he curled into a quivering
ball. He looked so uncomfortable, feverish and desperate, Harry’s heart
ached…but so did another part of him. Seeing Draco so undone, hot and willing,
it turned him on more than anything ever had before.
“Draco…do you want me to…?” he asked stupidly. The grey eyes, which looked like
liquid silver, molten and glowing, opened to look at him. The shuddering pants
were almost sobs at this point, he looked half imploring, half distraught.
“Y-yes, please…do something…!” he breathed, his knuckles white as he gripped
the fabric of his own robes tightly.
“Ok, ok… I will, don’t worry...” Harry said, almost instinctively pulling his
own cloak and robes off. He got onto the bed beside Draco and gently pulled him
so his head was on the pillow, starting to worry he would hyperventilate soon
his breathing was so rough. Harry hesitantly started undressing him,
unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt and trousers, seeing the very clear
shape of his arousal. He peeled off Draco’s robes and shirt with no resistance,
Draco’s skin jumping at his touch, and making him moan every time Harry touched
him. Harry found himself marvelling at the Malfoy’s body, seeing it properly
for the first time. He had ignored his own feelings last time because Draco had
been treated so badly…so now that he was in those boys’ position, he decided
he’d treat Draco better than he’d probably ever been treated.
“P-Potter…!” Draco gasped, almost managing to sound firm through his panting
and shaking and jerking hips. Harry nodded and pulled off Draco’s trousers and
underwear, unsurprised to find the green silk sticky and wet. He did come
earlier then, just from my touching his arm… Harry thought, amazed and so
aroused. It almost felt primal, like a dog reacting to a bitch in heat, it was
so natural. He removed Draco’s shoes, socks, trousers and pants, discarding
them onto the floor. He leaned over the quivering, naked boy and tongued his
neck, his hand moving over his chest and stomach. Draco was moaning freely now,
mewling and keening, begging Harry. His erect cock was leaking profusely,
pooling on his flat stomach, his hips shaking, toes curling and uncurling as he
spread his legs wide.
Harry settled himself between the blond’s legs, rubbing his own erection,
trapped in his trousers, against Draco’s bare one. The roughness of the fabric
against the extremely sensitive member made Draco scream and he came again over
his own chest, but he remained hard and leaking.
“Fuck…!” Harry growled, opening his own trousers with fumbling urgency, feeling
about to explode himself. Draco was crying, trying to turn onto his side,
hiding his face behind shaking hands as he sobbed. Harry grabbed his hands,
pulling them away with firm gentleness, and kissed Draco deeply. He felt him
buck beneath him, his moan muffled by their lips pressed together. Harry pushed
his tongue into his hot, wet mouth, moving his hands down Draco’s quivering
sides. Harry knew this must be maddening for Draco, but this was the first time
he’d touched anyone so intimately, but the fact it was Draco Malfoy felt
incredibly surreal, he wanted to savour it before he woke up.
“Please…please…!” Draco begged when Harry finally released him, tears rolling
down his cheeks, his breathing sounded almost panicked. His weak hands found
Harry’s shoulders, fingers winding into the fabric of the shirt and pulling as
hard as he could, only serving to wrinkle it. Harry stared down at him, looking
into his eyes that were full of lust and fear, begging him to help. He leaned
down and kissed at the wet tracks on his pale cheeks, pushing his hands under
Draco’s back to hold him closer.
“I’m sorry…” he said softly. Draco made a small whimper-like noise, wrapping
his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry sank lower, closer, kissing his neck as
manoeuvred his clothing down to pull his own erection out. He huffed against
Draco’s skin in relief, struggling not to let himself come. Their bare
erections finally touched and Draco bit down on his own lip hard, apparently
catching himself before he lost it again. Harry pressed his thumb into the
blond’s mouth to stop him biting himself, then kissed him again as he moved his
hips, causing the most incredible friction between the hard cocks. Draco’s
hands found Harry’s thick hair, fingers tightening almost painfully when he
came again with a stifled scream.
Harry was shocked. Draco had come 3 times already in the last 5 minutes…it was
incredible. “Draco…how much do you usually need before you feel better?” Harry
asked him, not sure how much the blond’s body could take of this constant
orgasming. He’d be completely exhausted in no time if this continued.
“N-Not…until…s-someone comes inside me…a f-f…few times…” Draco ground out,
every muscle in his body shuddering. Harry swore under his breath, realising
how much of a toll this would have on someone…no wonder he usually came here
with three or more people…it must be so draining to do this all the time. It
also struck him how invasive this curse was…what if Draco wasn’t gay? What if
he didn’t enjoy bottoming, or found it painful or, most likely, traumatic? It
wouldn’t matter at all, he’d still be forced to go through it, or else go
insane with this insatiable need. Harry held Draco tightly, overcome with
emotion and adoration for the boy he used to have such distain for.
“Don’t worry, Draco, I’ll look after you. I promise, I’ll make you feel great.”
He said softly, kissing him almost chastely before sitting back on his heels.
He looked down at Draco’s spread legs, understanding what he needed to do
before Draco would feel better. “Do you know a spell to…you know…?” he asked,
gesturing down to Draco’s entrance. Draco nodded, and Harry got up to find
Draco’s wand on the floor in his pile of robes. Draco pushed himself up on his
elbows and took his wand in a shaking hand, gripping it weakly before pressing
it to his own entrance, which made him twitch and shiver.
“L-Lubrico…” he muttered, jerking his wrist and a jet of clear, slick-looking
liquid spurted from the tip of Draco’s wand, covering his entrance. Harry
stared in awe, his mouth slightly agape. Draco placed his wand on the bed
beside himself, then moved his hand down between his own legs. He bit his lip
as he pushed one finger inside himself, turning his head so Harry couldn’t
fully see his face, clamping his knees together almost defensively. This made
Harry wake up instantly and he rejoined him, gently parting Draco’s legs,
kissing his knees soothingly, which made him sob softly, his body trembling
with want.
He leaned over Draco, who had a hand over his mouth to muffle his own moans,
and kissed him again, gently moving his wrist away. He made a decision and
slowly pressed one of own fingers inside Draco. The Malfoy moaned into the
kiss, his whole body jerking, his insides twitching and tightening. It was very
hot inside him, and very tight despite the generous amount of lube. Draco
withdrew his own finger, the sensation becoming too much for him to handle,
Harry replacing it with another of his own, then a third, sinking them as deep
as they would go, twisting and stretching. Draco came again as Harry finger
fucked him, his insides clenching round Harry’s digits incredibly, and made him
instantly want to be inside him.
“Draco…Draco, can I…? I’m going to explode…” he panted, already rubbing the
lube into his own aching cock. Draco looked at him, eyes wide and wet with
tears, and nodded hesitantly. Harry made an effort to catch his breath, the
overwhelming arousal he was feeling making everything rather difficult. “Ok…”
he whispered mostly to himself, kneeling up on the mattress and taking hold of
Draco’s hips, pulling them up so his bum was lifted off the mattress.
Draco was still relentlessly hard, the come glistening on his chest and his
lust-clouded eyes making him look beautifully obscene. “Fuck…” Harry muttered,
his glasses steaming up completely so he took them off and dropped them down on
the bed. Then he leaned over Draco, bracing himself on one hand beside Malfoy’s
waist on the mattress while the other positioned his cock at Draco’s entrance.
“R-ready…?” he asked, panting, the hot, twitching hole against his tip was very
nearly too much for him to handle.
Draco nodded, and Harry slowly pushed himself forward. The tip of his erection
disappeared inside Draco, the tight heat around it making Harry gasp, almost
collapsing on top of him. Draco let out a long, loud moan, punctuated by a
scream when Harry impulsively thrust himself all the way inside Draco, his back
arching almost inhumanly as he came yet again. Harry stayed still, marvelling
at this and not wanting to overstimulate Draco, but the Malfoy’s hand found
Harry’s supporting arm and held it tightly.
“Keep…k-keep going...!” he cried, his hot hand making Harry want it all over
him. He leaned down over Draco, one hand on the pointy hip as he started
thrusting, deep and slow, the rhythm making Draco moan so erotically Harry was
nearly tipped over the edge half a dozen times. He went down on his elbow
beside Draco’s head, his body feeling like it was almost protecting Draco’s as
they moved together. Draco was meeting his thrusts now, clearly wanting Harry
to come as much as Harry did.
Their faces were inches apart, their breaths and moans intermingling in the hot
air between them. Harry stared down at Draco, his poor vision having made it
hard to see his expression without being this close. Tears were rolling down
Draco’s cheeks, his mouth was open and wet, his tongue undulating invitingly
over and against his teeth, which occasionally brushed his bottom lip, which
was plump and raw from kissing. It was much pinker than usual, as were his
cheeks and around his eyes. His eyes were what struck Harry the most. His eyes
looked like hot metal, shimmering and incandescent silver, alive with want and
lust.
Harry kissed Draco deeply, his hand in the blond’s hair, thrusting as deep as
he possibly could, pushing Draco’s hips up off the mattress, his spine bowed.
Draco screamed into the kiss, his insides tightening impossibly around Harry’s
cock, and Harry felt himself plunging into the deepest, purest pleasure he’d
ever felt, like electricity in his blood as he pumped Draco full of his cum,
moaning into Draco’s mouth.
Their lips parted, both panting and shaking from their almost simultaneous
orgasms. Draco was looking up at him, his vision a little clearer, a little
more of his control back. He let out a couple of breaths, trying to regain some
composure, before speaking in a cracked, breathy voice.
“Thank you, Harry…” he said. Harry stared at him, his legs shaking and
softening cock overly sensitive still inside Draco.
“N-no…no problem…” he replied, before smiling. Draco frowned for a moment,
confused, before he let out a soft laugh, and then they were both laughing,
then kissing again. Harry removed himself from inside Draco, making them both
gasp, and roll them over so he was on his back with Draco on top of him, legs
still either side of Harry’s hips. Harry’s hands found Draco’s arse as they
kissed, and then his fingers found the heat of his hole, leaking come and still
twitching, the muscles soft and extremely inviting. It didn’t seem to matter
that they were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, they were just bodies that wanted
each other, chemicals in need of reactions.
Draco sat up as they kissed, one hand on Harry’s chest while the other reached
behind himself to grip Harry’s already rehardening cock. Harry’s mouth followed
the blond’s, leaning up on his elbows to keep the connection, moving one of his
hands from Draco’s hole to grip his insatiably hard cock. It must be painful,
he thought, judging from how Draco flinched at the contact even as he bucked
into the touch.
“R-ready?” Draco asked this time, breaking the kiss, his lips wet and eyes
misty and face beautiful. Harry nodded quickly, his almost erection instantly
becoming full mast, sitting up fully to meet Draco’s chest as he sat in his
lap, holding him steady. Malfoy used Harry’s shoulder to push himself up on his
toes, positioning Harry’s cock before sinking down on it all the way to the
hilt. Draco’s head fell back, his mouth open in a low moan, his hand gripping
Harry’s shoulder tightly. Harry’s eyes, despite his lack of glasses, focused on
the white flesh of Draco’s neck and his mouth literally watered. His hands
grabbed Draco’s arse cheeks, fingertips touching where he and Draco were
connected, and lavished the pale throat with almost frenzied kisses and bites.
Draco half choked on his pleasure, coming yet again, but nothing came out this
time. He let out a sob, exhausted, and collapsed against Harry, his body
trembling.
Despite his lust filled mind, Harry was concerned, wrapping his arms around the
very slender figure, attempting to remove himself from Draco if it was causing
him pain. But Draco held Harry’s shoulder and pushed himself back to look into
his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. His face was still pink, eyes still
showing his body’s need, but he looked so sad. “Don’t stop, please…!” he
begged, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and desperation. Harry stared at him,
seeing how badly this curse affected him. He must have been enduring these
feelings for days, the physical strain this level of need had on him was
enormous. Harry shook his head, kissing the wet saltiness on his hot cheeks.
“I won’t, I promise… But I’ll do the work, ok? You just relax, I’ll look after
you.” He said. Draco looked at him, stormy eyes wide, like he wasn’t able to
believe what he was hearing. Harry smiled and kissed him deeply, rolling them
back over so Draco was on his back. Harry grabbed a thick pillow and lifted
Draco’s hips, placing the pillow beneath them so as not to strain his back.
“Nice and gentle, ok?” he asked, genuinely wondering what Draco preferred, and
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck.
“Please…” he said very softly, and that was all Harry needed to know. He’d been
treated so roughly all this time, that was obvious; first Voldemort, then those
brutes in seventh year…he just wanted something nice…gentle and caring.
Harry’s pace from then on was deep and slow, letting them feel every inch of
each other as he moved inside Draco, who was able to regain some energy from
the gear shift and recommenced his exquisite moans of pleasure. It was a very
satisfying pace for the both of them. Draco came twice more before Harry, and
after a break they were at it again. Three was Harry’s limit, but Draco’s fever
seemed to have been quelled for now. The blond boy lay on the bed after casting
his clean-up spells, completely exhausted and already mostly asleep, and Harry
was more than willing to join him under the covers and pull him in close,
falling asleep the happiest he’d been in a long while.
*
The next morning, Harry woke up to soft, white light from the windows, through
which he could see big fat snowflakes falling. Draco was fast asleep beside
him, snuggled up close to him under the blankets. They were both still naked,
Harry’s arms wrapped around the Malfoy’s narrow waist. He could feel the steady
breaths on his chest as Draco slept, his fingers curled idly between them.
Harry realised he was very, very thirsty, and slowly and carefully extracted
himself from around Draco, not wanting to wake him up. He sat up and put his
glasses on, looking around the room for the pitcher of water that had been here
last time. There it was, on the table beside the sofa, the fire crackling
merrily as always. He felt wonderful as he got up, leaving Draco asleep as he
padded over and drank the cool liquid greedily, some spilling down his bare
chest in his haste. He burped and turned back towards the bed, yawning and
scratching his messy hair, when he spotted something odd on the sheets.
Two piles of wrapped presents sat there, one for Harry and one for Draco on
their respective sides. After realising it was, in fact, Christmas morning,
Harry felt a hot flush over his entire body. The house-elves…the house-elves
had seen them in here together…they knew… Harry went over to the Christmas
presents slowly, as if scared they’d attack him, and picked up a small note
from his own pile.
'Happy Christmas, Harry Potter! We thought you would want your presents and
breakfast in here with Master Malfoy! Dobby xoxo' was written in surprisingly
neat pencil.
“Well…that’s a tad embarrassing…” Harry muttered to himself, rubbing his hand
over his face, wanting to laugh and burn the note like it never happened.
“What’s embarrassing…?” a croaky voice asked, and Harry looked up to see Draco
sitting up slowly, rubbing his eyes.
“Morning… Uh, this…” he said, handing Draco the note despite him looking half
asleep. Draco yawned as he read the note slowly, frowning slightly in
concentration. Then he looked at Harry, eyes wide with realisation. “Don’t
worry, he won’t tell anyone.” Harry said quickly, though he was fairly sure
Draco was more vexed by the fact they were here together in the first place.
“Your Christmas presents are here, by the way.” He said, looking through his
own gifts. There was a big soft parcel from Mrs Weasley, an obvious book from
Hermione, a smaller, hard box from Ron, and assorted others from Order members
and friends. Draco’s pile was rather smaller than Harry’s, though he suspected
they would be more expensive than his own haul.
Draco looked around, holding the bedsheets up to his chest shyly. Harry
understood and picked up a shirt from the floor, passing it to him. Draco took
it hesitantly, thanking him, and pulled it on. He did up all the buttons before
standing up, the shirt reaching his mid thighs so he was fully covered, but
pulled his underwear on too. He went round the bed to join Harry, half-
heartedly looking through the items.
Harry pulled on his own discarded boxers, gathered his own gifts and went over
to the sofas in front of the fire to sit down, laying the bundles on the coffee
table he didn’t recall being there before. “I’m starving…” he said, with a
sigh.
“There’s some plates there…” Draco said and Harry looked over at him. He was
pointing to the table by the wall, where two covered plates were sat, as well
as a flagon of hot tea, and a jug of cold orange juice.
“Wow!” Harry cried, getting up to inspect. He pulled off one of the covers to
find a plate full of what they usually had for Christmas breakfast: full fry
up, pancakes, bagels, and smoked salmon. “Wicked…” Harry said with a grin,
holding his hand over the food and finding it to be piping hot. “Are you
hungry?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to Draco. The blond looked at him
and nodded. Harry grinned and grabbed his wand, levitating everything over to
the coffee table. They both sat down, Draco having brought his own presents
over to the sofas, and dug in. Harry glanced at Draco frequently as they ate,
surprised and pleased to see him wolfing the food down hungrily.
Harry opened his present from Mrs (and Mr) Weasley, finding a wonderfully
expected knitted jumper. It was a nice earthy red this time, almost orange,
with a silvery stag on the front. He grinned and pulled it on over his bare
torso, smelling the warm comforting fabric happily. He looked up to see Draco
watching him almost longingly, but when he realised Harry was looking at him,
he frowned.
“Where did that come from?” he asked disdainfully.
“Ron’s mum makes them every year, they’re really comfy. I’ve got 7 now, they’re
always different. Last year was a golden stitch.” He said, smiling. Draco
didn’t seem to know how to react to this information, so he nodded and returned
to his meal. Harry regarded him for a moment, feeling a little sad, and did the
same.
They finished their meals and Harry got right back to opening his gifts.
Hermione had given him a book about being an Auror and other advanced magical
careers, which looked really interesting, Ron had given him some new Quidditch
goggles with his glasses prescription so he’d be able to see (he assumed
Hermione had helped a lot with that one) and a selection of sweets, Tonks had
sent him a very fancy shaving set with a note that said ‘can’t tame the beast’s
hair so shave its chin’ which made him laugh. Fred and George had given him a
load of his favourite Wizard Wheezes products, Alistair Moody, he assumed, had
sent an unwrapped Sneak-o-Scope. Remus had sent a really nice picture of the
Marauders, excluding Wormtail, and his mum, Lily, at some fancy shindig where
they’re all dressed up, grinning away, in a nice silver frame. On the back was
written ‘Found this in Grimmauld Place, this is the night your mum and dad got
engaged!’ which gave Harry a lump in his throat he had to suppress by taking a
sip of tea.
Then he looked up at Draco, who had only opened a couple of gifts: an
expensive-looking set of scarf, gloves and hat, and what looked like diamond
cufflinks in one parcel, the note told him it was from Blaise, and a brightly
coloured set of silk underwear and matching dress socks from who could only be
Pansy. There was an immaculately wrapped present which like a large book and
maybe a small box on top which he seemed to be avoiding completely.
“Is that from your parents?” Harry asked, knowing the answer as he gestured to
it. Draco sighed and nodded.
“My mother buys excellent gifts...” He said softly, fingers sweeping over the
metallic red paper. Harry watch’s him a moment before speaking.
“It’s ok to forgive them...I know you want to.” He said. Draco glanced at him
and nodded stiffly.
“I do want to...but I can’t...” He said softly, slowly opening the gift. Harry
nodded, understanding completely.
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