Harry felt distracted for most of the day. It was little things. Places he ended up in the castle and didn't know why he was there. Going in one direction and ending up in another. Stupid, really. He just wasn't paying attention. When he caught up to Draco, they spent the rest of the day on the Quidditch pitch, Draco on the new broom Harry bought him at Diagon Alley, and Harry on his old Firebolt.

At dinner, he sat next to Draco, smiling at the Slytherin. Draco was really very handsome, he decided, even if his profile was a bit on the pointy side. No one could smile like his Draco, as if there was always more behind it. Invariably, there was. Usually a secret or he was forming a nasty insult. Draco was interesting to watch unobserved. His fingers were long and delicate and he had a habit of tearing his dinner roll into long strips and ate each strip one at a time. His manipulation of the silverware was elegance itself as if he were conducting his meal, not merely consuming it. When he grasped the stem of his goblet, it was downright sensual, reminding Harry of other things Draco grasped with equal aplomb. Harry trembled and sighed.

Draco glanced at him. "What gives, Harry? Why are you mooning over there?"

Harry smiled and tried to hide it over the rim of his own goblet. "Just admiring you," he said sheepishly.

"Well quit being so obvious," he said out of the side of his mouth, "you're scaring the first years."

"Sorry. Could you pass the…the…"

Harry gestured futilely to the bowl in front of Draco but his mind refused to work.

Draco grabbed the bowl with a huff of frustration and slid them toward Harry. "We call them 'potatoes', Harry. Unless the Gryffindors have invented a better word."

"'Potatoes'. I knew that." He took them and grabbed the spoon and then froze.

Draco ate but his glance slid toward Harry again. "Potter, what in blazes are you doing?"

Harry dropped the spoon back into the bowl and sat back. "Dunno. I guess…" He looked at his plate of half-eaten food and pushed away from the table. "I'm a bit off."

"A bit?"

"I'm going to our room to read. Coming?"

"I have to watch over some detentions. Apparently, the teachers think that a detention with Professor Malfoy is more terrifying than one with Filch. I'm very popular amongst the staff."

"Okay. I'll see you later."

"Harry?"

He turned back. "Yeah?"

"You feeling all right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll see you in a bit."

Harry trudged from the Great Hall, stopped a few Hufflepuffs from mischief along the way, and finally reached his tower room. He went to the tall windows and touched the cold stone sill. Stars were just beginning to twinkle from the darkening purple sky and the last bits of sunset rippled on the meandering river in the distance. Harry loved this view. It reminded him of his first flight on Buckbeak. It also reminded him that he hadn't gone to see "Witherwings" in some time, and he smiled at the idea. He never had the courage to tell Draco that the hippogriff that Hagrid tended with such care was the same Buckbeak that nearly killed him when Draco provoked it. He well knew how his husband would react to that bit of news.

He turned back to his cozy room, walking across the Persian carpet to the bookshelves, examining the objects from Draco's room that were now part of his life in here. He had intended to read ahead in his Defense text but his eye fell on Draco's wedding present to him, the collection of his parents' school notebooks, and he grabbed those instead. He took them to the settee, kicked off his shoes, and sat down, tucking his feet under him. He took the first notebook from his father and opened the yellowing cover. His father had written some innocuous notes on his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Harry was interested in discovering what sort of spells they learned back then and was disappointed to see it was the same old stuff he had learned in fourth year. But then his father digressed into a few ideas that Harry was excited to learn were about the Marauder's map, at least the early stages of its development. Maybe it would have some of the spells they used to make it in here. He'd never really asked Lupin how they did it and he was the last Marauder left. Harry turned a few pages and there were little notes running everywhere across the page waxing rapturously about Lily Evans. Harry blushed at some of the phrases. "Gosh, Dad," he said softly. But didn't Harry whisper similar words of love to Draco? Love was love, no matter the time or place, he supposed.

He looked up at the clock. Draco would be back soon. He knew he was luckier than most. True, his life started out a bit rough. Being orphaned and then raised by horrible people that didn't love him, no friends, nothing to look forward to except growing up and moving away from the Dursleys. But then magic came into his life and Hogwarts and Hagrid and friends, real friends that not only stood up for him when things went badly but even risked their lives for him. But of course, with magic also came some real terrors: death, torture, evil. And after years of feeling a loss of control, Harry had taken that back too and defeated the greatest evil of them all, the one really responsible for every misery in his life. And then he'd found love. A new career, a new husband. Everything was so perfect. So perfect…

A shiver ran up his spine. He looked toward the window, but the casement was tightly closed. No draught. What was that expression? Someone walking over your grave? Silly, really.

The door opened and Draco came in. He had a sour look on his face but as soon as he lifted it toward Harry it softened. "Sodding fifth years," he muttered and flopped down beside Harry, toeing off his shoes.

Harry set the notebooks aside and sat back. "What happened?"

"Idiots thought they'd pull one on Professor Malfoy and sneak a fog potion into my cauldron, confuse the room, and I'd cancel detention."

Harry restrained his smile and adjusted his seat. "What did you do?"

"Threatened them all with veritaserum if they didn't own up to who did it. Finally a sodding Gryffindor admitted it was her."

"We are a courageous bunch."

"Stupid, more like. Course they didn't know I'm not allowed to use truth potion on them, the little gits."

"Took points away, I suppose."

"You would suppose right! And more detention for the lot of them. However, it was a damned good job on a tough potion so I gave her back points. Didn't tell her, though."

Harry smiled. "There's hope for you yet, evil Professor Malfoy."

"Snape would never have done it."

"Only if it were a Slytherin."

"I think you've got the wrong impression of old Snape," said Draco relaxing into the cushion. He reached over and toyed with Harry's dark fringe. "He might have been keen on us in class just to show up you Gryffindors, but he never gave us better marks for bad potions. I always did well because I was the only one who knew what the hell I was doing. Besides Hermione, that is."

"Really? Well I'm glad to know that. It was hard to think of him as a good guy when all I wanted to do was kill him."

"Well you thought he killed your hero, didn't you? He was just brilliant at making Draught of the Living Death."

"You, too. I recall it saved my life once."

Draco leaned over and kissed him. "It's a handy potion, now isn't it?" He looked around. "I'm all in. I'm going for some wine. Want some?"

"Sure."

Draco snapped up from the settee and rummaged in what they called the "kitchen" alcove, though it was little more than a sink and a hob for tea. Harry didn't always like bothering the house elves for something as innocuous as tea. Draco found a bottle, spelled the cork off, and poured two glasses. He brought them back to the settee. "Here. Something more bracing than pumpkin juice, my lad."

Harry took the glass, smiled when Draco clinked his own against it, and took a sip. Draco gulped his and fell back to the cushion. "Ahhh!"

"Feeling better?"

"Mmmm. Yes, Harry. I'm glad to be back with you. You always relax me."

Harry's eyes roved over the face of his beloved, the long neck curved as he threw back his head, the loosened collar of the black silk shirt he liked to wear for classes along with the incredibly tight black leather pants. Harry felt far from relaxed. He set his glass down and slithered toward Draco whose eyes were closed as he lay back, his one arm slung across the sofa back, his other jutting outward holding his glass of red wine. He flinched only a little when Harry nibbled his ear. A slow smile spread on his face but he didn't open his eyes. Harry kissed his cheek, his lids, the sensuous corner of his mouth. "Harry love, what's on your mind?"

"It's not what's on my mind that seems to matter at the moment," he purred.

"Oh? Then what's in your lap?"

"An erection. A very hard one. For you."

Draco's sigh stuttered. "Oh."

Harry slid across Draco's body and took the wine glass from his hand. The Slytherin never moved, never opened his eyes. Harry straddled him and began unbuttoning his shirt. He kissed his way down Draco's chest and when he got to his waistband, he pulled the shirt free of it and unbuttoned it the rest of the way. With sure hands he slid it over Draco's shoulders and the Slytherin shrugged out of it, the only help he would give. Harry ran his palms over Draco's pale skin, feeling his nipples harden on the flat of his hands as they passed over them. Draco was toned and slim. His pectorals were satisfyingly hard under his touch as was the gentle wash-boarding of his abdomen. Harry couldn't resist planting a kiss, two, several to his chest and belly. Kisses turned to licks and then nips and Draco was squirming under his touch. "Oh Harry," he muttered.

Harry sat up and smiled, stealing one from Draco's repertoire. "'Oh Harry' what?"

Draco opened his eyes at last, but narrowed them to mere slits. "'Oh Harry' you're such a cock-tease. Are you going to unzip me and get on with it already?"

Harry chuckled and grasped Draco's belt buckle. Draco lay back again with a sigh and closed his eyes. Harry pulled the leather belt from the buckle, drew down the zip of Draco's fly, and curled his fingers into his waistband. He hauled the trousers down, making sure he dragged the underpants with it, and yanked them both down to Draco's ankles where Draco pushed them off the rest of the way with his feet. Harry stood a moment, admiring the view. Draco had grown quite interested in the proceedings as evidenced by his taut erection. As Harry watched, the Slytherin raised a lazy hand and slowly stroked his darkening flesh, jutting his hips forward with little pleasure moans.

"Now who's being a cock-tease?" said Harry with a shaky voice. He pulled at his tie while unbuttoning his shirt. He got halfway down before he gave up unbuttoning and yanked it over his head, tie and all. He quickly divested himself of trousers and pants, but not before grabbing his wand and incanting a spell, lubing himself as well as Draco. Draco wriggled his hips in response. "Hold that thought," said Harry huskily as he climbed on top of Draco again. Draco opened his legs wide, but Harry's thighs were spread even wider over them. Carefully aiming Draco's stiff flesh in place between his legs, Harry positioned himself until he was only just skewered. With trembling thighs, he slowly lowered himself all the way, sheathing himself on Draco's cock. Draco couldn't hold back this time and groaned a long, "Ha-a-a-r-r-ry!" followed by, "So tight!"

Harry grasped Draco's shoulders to steady himself. Draco's hands clasped Harry's waist and he raised his head, his grey eyes not only open but smoldering with lust. "Yes," he said, eyes locked on Harry's.

"Oh," gasped Harry. Draco's thick shaft spread his tight hole and the rest of him felt so full inside. He just remained motionless for a moment, relishing the feel of his lover inside him. Then, bracing on his knees, he gently lifted, gliding Draco's cock out almost all the way before he sat hard on Draco's thighs, plunging his eager cock back to the hilt, skimming over his prostate in the process. "Oh!"

"You are-" Draco's eyes widened as Harry reared up again before slamming down a second time. "That's-!" He loosened one hand and grasped Harry's straining cock dancing between them.

"Oh yes!" said Harry. Draco matched the rhythm to Harry's thrusting. "I'm so close," he hissed.

"Parseltongue," Draco gasped. "Harry! Speak it, please. Oh God!"

Harry imagined the thick cock inside him, seeing that "snake", pictured his wedding ring with the Slytherin snake entwined around the Gryffindor lion, and sputtered in Parseltongue, You are my sweet, sweet lover!

"Oh yes, Harry! More!" Draco thrust up harder with his hips to meet the rise and fall of Harry's.

Come for me, Draco!

"Was that my name? WAS THAT MY NAME?"

Draco, Draco, Draco…

"Arghh!" Draco's hips reared up and he spurt up, up inside Harry. His fingers clenched around Harry's cock and pumped it harder and Harry, too, let loose. Strands of white shot forward and spattered Draco's chest as well as Harry's. They gasped together, staring into each other's eyes until the trembling in their limbs quieted and their heart rates slowed, and they were able to speak again.

"Oh my God," gasped Draco. "That was so great!"

Harry chuckled and rested his forehead against his husband's. "Too right! Someday, you've got to tell me why Parseltongue turns you on so much."

"Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how it sounds? How you look when you speak it?"

He clenched Draco's thighs with his own, closing the other's legs, and rested his hands on his neck. "No. Tell me."

"It's all breathless, like sex, and the long sibilants just ripple up my spine as if gentle fingers were caressing me. And you look like you do right before you come. Your eyes close to slits and your mouth goes slack. I tell you, it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard, ever seen."

"Wow. Well, at least I know you can't go to anyone else for it."

He laughed and grabbed Harry around the waist, hauled him to his feet, and man-handled him all the way across the floor to the bed, where he hurled him over the duvet. "That's where you belong, little husband. Now get into bed so I can recover to shag you again."

"You're going to shag me again?"

"Yes. I didn't get enough the first time. And you're speaking Parseltongue really set me off. I feel the stirrings again already just thinking about it."

"Crikey, Draco." He shifted until he was under the covers and settled back against the pillows. "Who am I to argue with that?"

Draco drew him into his arms, and kissed him, snuggling down with him under the soft light of the fire gently flickering in the hearth. "Maybe we'll just do this a bit first," he said, voice muffled by his lips running over Harry's face and hair.

"Mmmmm." Harry closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of a soft mouth nibbling him. "Shag me all you like as long as you just keep doing that."

Draco chuckled against his skin. Harry's last thoughts before he succumbed completely to whatever Draco decided to do to him, were how much he loved all this, loved this man!

* * *

In the morning, Harry scrubbed himself in the bath, soaking the aches from the gymnastics of the night before and hoped he didn't look as bruised as he felt. He sank down into the water to his nose and playfully blew bubbles from his nostrils.

Until Draco walked in.

Startled, Harry slipped under and came up sputtering.

"Nice, Harry. Need a toy boat to play with?"

"I'm just trying to relax my muscles a bit. You got a little overenthusiastic last night."

Draco slid to his knees beside the tub and rested his arms on the porcelain edge. With his chin on his arms he eyed Harry. "We're already late for breakfast."

Harry's eyes widened. "Don't you dare! I'm so sore now I don't think I'll be able to sit all day! And we do have to get to classes."

"No we don't. It's Sunday, you git."

"Oh. I've forgotten that."

Draco's hand snaked forward to stroke Harry's wet hair. "I promise to leave you alone, though it will be very difficult."

"I'm sure you'll do your best. Now scoot. You're letting in cold air."

"You're no fun at all." He swished his hand in the water and splashed Harry with a soapy wave.

"Hey!"

"Don't be too long," he cast over his shoulder.

* * *

With wrinkled toes and fingers, Harry finally decided to leave the tub and maybe get some Defense work done.

Dressed, hair still wet, Harry emerged from the bathroom. Draco looked up from reading the paper. "Want to go with me to my classroom today? I could use the help with some Defense spells."

Draco tossed the paper aside. "Sure. Why not?"

It wasn't too many steps from their private rooms to the study, then down the stairs to the classroom. Draco pulled his wand and walked across the floor before pivoting. "Wait a moment, Harry. I don't want to send you any curses."

Harry smiled. "Do you know how much I would have paid to hear that when we were in school?"

Draco scowled. "I haven't practiced enough holding back my magic, that's what I mean. And you know how things stood then. Honestly, Potter. You are getting too sentimental these days. Get a grip."

Harry ducked his head. Draco was right. He was getting a bit "girly". He wondered what was behind it. "Can't help it if I'm enjoying you for once in my life," he muttered. He raised his head and his wand at the same time. "Why don't you just do some blocks and I'll hurl the hexes…for a change," he added under his breath.

Draco positioned himself defensively. "Okay. Fire when ready."

Harry raised his wand…and then froze. Strange. He couldn't think of a single curse. Slowly, he lowered his wand to his thigh.

"What's the matter? Scared, Potter?"

He looked up. Draco's words triggered a dim memory. "You wish," he whispered and the word, "Rictusempra!" burst from his mouth.

Draco blocked it easily, his blocks having so much more power behind them now. "Is that the best you can do?"

Harry had a vague notion of another spell but it wouldn't come to the surface. He lowered his wand again and walked to his desk, staring at it.

Draco came up behind him. "Harry? What's wrong?"

"I…" He wracked his brain for a spell, any spell, and couldn't come up with one at all. "It's nothing. I don't think I'm feeling up to this now."

"What do you mean? We just got here."

"I've…just remembered some paperwork I've got to get to." He fingered a parchment on his desk.

"Do it later. We're here now."

"No. I've got to do it now. Sorry, Draco. Do you mind?"

"Well…" He sighed in frustration. "Okay. If that's what you want." He shook his head and tucked his wand away. "I guess there are some assignments I should work on, too. Just…call me when you need me." He leaned in and took a kiss before sauntering out of the classroom, casting a worried look over his shoulder.

Harry barely noticed his leaving. Something was wrong. Why couldn't he remember any spells? He made it around to the other side of his desk without knowing how he got there and sunk down into the chair. He fingered the scroll and unrolled it. It was Serenity Hudson's essay. He scanned a few lines and set it aside.

"Professor Potter."

He looked up. Speak of the devil. Serenity Hudson meandered in. She gazed at Harry through the shadows of her lashes and stopped right in front of his desk, thighs pressed against the wood. "I wondered," she said, leaning over. She rested her neatly manicured fingertips on the surface. She stretched her neck out and moistened her lips. "I wondered if you had a chance to look over my application. Oh, I see you've got it."

Harry lifted it and then looked at her again. Was it getting hot in here?

She repositioned and scooted her rump to sit on the edge of the wooden desk, crossing her legs. Her school robe fell open revealing her short skirt and a long length of a pale thigh. "I hope you will consider me. I do hope we can work more closely together. Professor." She leaned over. "I really want to work with you."

"Well…Miss Hudson…I've been quite pleased with your work so far-"

"Serenity, sir. Call me Serenity."

"Serenity. That's a nice name."

"I always thought so. I wonder if you'd mind terribly-if we are going to work together, and you really aren't much older than I am-if I can call you…Harry."

She was making her way around the desk and Harry suddenly found himself surrounded by her arms. She crouched over him and was getting closer. "I don't suppose-" he began.

"Because…Harry…if we are going to work closely together, I should think that being on a first name basis is expected. Don't you?"

She was so close. And he could feel her body heat. In fact, her face was reaching and then her lips were suddenly on his and she was kissing him. Harry sat there a bit confused. She slid into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and her kiss was becoming more insistent. Harry tried to think. Did he remember this? Should he be doing this? He opened his mouth to say something, but it only filled with her tongue and she was doing a pretty good job of silencing him. His arms came up to her back, pulled her in, and he swept his eyes closed as he joined the kiss, entwining their tongues and pressing his lips to hers. But even as he kissed her back and felt her moan deep in his throat, he sensed something amiss about it. It wasn't exactly giving him the thrill he knew it should. He didn't quite know why, but he gently pushed her back and arched his head away. "Um…Serenity…Miss Hudson. I…don't think we should be doing this."

She sighed and licked the corners of her mouth. Her lips formed into a pout. "But Harry. It was so good."

"That may be," he said uncertainly, sliding out from under her to stand and get some distance between them. "But it's not the place."

"Oh! Do you want to meet somewhere later, then?"

Did he? He guessed he was supposed to. "Er…yes. Why not in Greenhouse Three at two o'clock. Okay?"

She smiled and leaned back, her bottom perched on the desk this time. Her robe stretched taut over her breasts. She giggled. "Okay," she breathed. Reaching out, she trailed her finger along Harry's collar before meandering out of the classroom.

Harry wiped his mouth with his fingers and stared at the empty doorway. He was having a hard time figuring out what just happened. Without thinking of a destination, he wandered up the stairs and through his study before entering his private quarters. Draco was sitting on the wingchair looking over his papers when he looked up. "Back so soon?" he asked.

Harry continued into the room, dazed by a cloud of muzzy thoughts. He said nothing and moved toward the window to gaze out.

Someone stirred in the room and came up behind him. A hand closed on his shoulder and turned him. "Harry, what the hell is going on? What's the matter with you?"

Harry looked at the hand on his shoulder and then the man in front of him. "Not to be rude or anything," he said, "but just who are you?"


On to Chapter Three
"Remembrance"

Back to Chapter One
"Slipping Away"

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