Of all the schemes Draco had ever planned, this was the screwiest. What had he been thinking? What had his parents been thinking? Didn't they care that he was doing this for them? They owed him big time!

They ended up snogging for the next fifteen interminable minutes. Harry was getting better at it, but each time Draco let his guard down, let himself think about what he was doing, he almost lost it.

To steady himself, he grabbed Harry's head and deepened the kiss. He felt Harry moan against his mouth, felt his tongue slither over his lips, and Draco did his level best to snog the breath out of the fucking Boy Who Lived.

It wasn't all bad, though. If he looked at it clinically, Harry was very gentle and respectful. He wasn't sneaking any gropes and he held Draco with the utmost care. He stroked his back and then cradled him in a very comfortable and warm embrace. But they were sitting. Draco knew that if he had to kiss face to face with Potter in this first encounter and feel his hard dick press against him, he would have run for the hills. Better that they were chastely on this little bench and free of those encumbrances.

The kissing went on for a while. Draco had time to think of other things as it continued. He wondered what the house-elves would prepare for dinner. He wondered if he could get a new robe soon, if they could get the money from their vaults. Maybe he would ask Harry to help with that when they were finished. Mustn't hurry that, though. It would be rude.

Harry changed positions and his kisses were getting more urgent and deeper. His chin was rough from an uneven shave. Didn't the man even know how to do a decent shaving charm? And his breath wasn't all that fragrant either. Hello? More magic would help.

He clutched at Draco now and Draco decided he should probably caress Harry. He started with his hair since his hands were already on his head. His hair was thick enough that it could have been a girl's and it actually felt softer than he imagined it might. His hand soon cupped the back of his head, and Harry moaned. He dropped his other hand to his chest and shoulder and stroked him through his clothing.

Potter had muscles! When did he get those? In fact, he was looking better these days, now that Draco bothered to notice. Not so scrawny. Filled out. Macho, even. Not that he cared about such things. But all that magical power rippling under those new muscles. It was a bit intoxicating. Harry was a powerful wizard. No doubt about that now. Even though it was rumored he killed Voldemort with an Expelliarmus! Of course he had told Draco as much. But was he just being modest or-No. He knew that much about Potter. It was genuine. Stupid, but genuine. What had Harry discovered that he knew he could kill Voldemort that way? What sorts of things had he learned on the road with Granger and Weasley?

Obviously, Harry would have been allowed any post he wanted, but he was best suited to being an Auror. And most of them weren't stupid. So that must mean that Potter wasn't all that lame.

Harry was still kissing him, tongues entwining. It wasn't really so bad once one got started, Draco mused. It was a bit of a turn on in some sense, truth be told. The kiss itself, he supposed. He hadn't been kissed lately. Not like this. Harry wasn't half bad at it. Not that Draco had that much experience. Girls liked him well enough. Pansy had accommodated, but he hadn't really thought of other girls much. Maybe that Ginny Weasley. If one could get past all those freckles. She was supposed to be one hot number. Everyone expected that she'd be the trophy wife of Harry Potter. But, apparently, she was the wrong gender. Now, Draco supposed, he would bloody well be that trophy wife.

He pulled away breathlessly. Dazed, Harry stared at him. "What's wrong?"

"Mmmm. Nothing," said Draco, wiping his swollen lips. "Just needed to come up for air."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I got a little carried away."

"That's all right. You're my first male kiss."

Harry nodded. "Me too."

Oh great. But thinking on it, that might work in Draco's favor. He smiled in what he hoped was a fetching grin. "Well, you did just fine."

Harry grinned like fool. "Yeah? I wasn't too sloppy?"

"No. No drool at all. It was...nice." And Draco surprised himself by realizing that it really was.

Harry reached for Draco again, and in a seductively low voice said, "I'm not done by any means." His eyes glittered and Draco saw them full of lust. For him! He gulped. For the family, Draco. He let Harry embrace him again, and the snogging began once more.

Finally, after another long interval, Draco pulled away and told Harry that he had to get back. Harry was disappointed but he made another "date", this time to take Draco out to dinner the next night.

Oh my God. I'm being wooed. Draco bid Harry farewell, walked to an Apparating point, and escaped to the manor. In the foyer, he shouldered his way by his father up the stairs.

"Draco!" his father called after him. "How-how did it go?"

"Fine. Just fine." He stopped at the landing and glared down at him. Lucius looked a lot smaller somehow. Older. Worn out. "He wants me, all right? I'm giving myself to him, just like you wanted. I've got a 'date' with him tomorrow. If I were you, I wouldn't wait up." Without looking back, he stomped to his room and slammed the door after him.

He stared at the floor, breathing heavily until he flung himself on his bed where all the pent up emotions came out in one great sob. Why? Why did this have to happen to him? Hadn't he suffered enough?

He rolled to a sitting position. "Get a grip, Malfoy," he said to himself, wiping away the tears. "It's got to be done. Thank Merlin it's Potter and not the Weasel." He shuddered. Harry was at least rather sweet and gentle. He hadn't known that about him. He always thought of Potter as an uncouth brute and Draco was usually on the business end of Potter's wand- But that thought in all its Freudian implications didn't give him any comfort. What if...what if tomorrow, Potter wanted to...shag?

Draco threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, wringing his hands. He'd have to do it, wouldn't he? He'd have to give it up for Potter.

He wriggled uncomfortably on the bed. Maybe he should practice first. He looked around the room for something comparable. A butterbeer bottle! He Accioed it and looked it over. No. He shook his head and set it aside. He didn't want to do it. Didn't want any of it.

He grabbed his pillow and rolled onto his back, rocking himself in a vain attempt at comfort.

* * *

Harry was walking on air. Malfoy liked him! He liked him that way! Amazing that he was gay too! It had been marvelous kissing him, even though Draco seemed a little stiff. He might still be intimidated by Harry but Harry reckoned by tomorrow he wouldn't feel that way. He'd take him to a nice romantic dinner, they'd go back to his place, and-

Harry pulled up short. They'd do what? Shag? Harry bit his lip. Oh, he wanted to all right. But would that be too much for Draco? Probably not, though. Draco was probably as horny as he was. After all, they were both seventeen year old wizards, fresh in their new found freedom. What better way to celebrate than a shag? Except that Harry was a virgin about these things. He could imagine it, though. He had gotten some magazines. He had tried sticking a finger in his own arse and though it had been strange he also kind of liked it. He knew about lube and all. They'd figure out a position and then Harry would...Harry would...

He slumped against the wall, grabbing his aching crotch. Oh how he wanted to! He wanted to push Malfoy face first to the mattress, spread his succulent white legs, part his plump arse cheeks, and shove his cock in his quivering hole. "Oh God!" He grabbed himself hard. The very thought almost made him come. How would he ever make it through the date?

Harry could barely sleep from excitement. He rolled over and over and finally sat up, looking at the fire. Maybe if he could talk to Draco one more time. He scooted off the bed and flopped onto the floor in front of his hearth. He grabbed a dollop of Floo Powder and tossed it in. "Draco Malfoy's bedroom!" he told it and thrust his head in.

At first, the spinning disoriented him, and even when it finally stopped he was still a bit wobbly. He adjusted his eyes and looked around. The room was dark and he wondered if it was the right place. "Malfoy!" he hissed. "Hey, Malfoy! You asleep?"

Something rustled on the bed. And Harry noticed, as his eyes attuned to the dark of the room, that it was a very big bed. A sudden pang of dread lanced his chest as he wondered if he hadn't gotten the Malfoy senior room, but when a platinum blond head popped into view, it was clearly Draco. His grey eyes caught the firelight and grew to saucers.

Harry sighed at the sight of him. He felt a little stupid, all this mooning over the man. "Hey, Malfoy! The fireplace."

Draco stared. "Potter? What the hell-?"

"I just wanted to say goodnight to you." He shook his head at himself. "Lame, I know. But what can I say? I'm pretty new at this."

Draco crawled to the edge of the bed and stared down into the glowing embers. It cast a warm glow on his face, softening his features. "Oh. Well. No one's ever- I mean...Merlin, Potter. You're making a bloody fool of yourself."

Harry laughed. "Yeah. I know. But I can't help it. That was some really good snogging."

"It's late. And I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry's smile faded. "Oh. Sorry. I'll go then...."

"Wait." Draco seemed to debate with himself. He sat up and Harry could see he wore what looked like a silk t-shirt with satin pajama bottoms. Harry instantly wondered about how it would feel to run his hands over that smooth fabric...and Draco's bits.

Draco had a mollifying tone. "I...I...had a good time."

Harry found his smile again. "Yeah?" And then he got an idea. "Can I come in? Just for one more kiss?"

"I don't know, Potter."

"I know it's late and I won't stay. But just one kiss."

Draco's cheeks grew spots of red and he bit his lip. Harry thought it was delightful. Draco studied the floor for a long time and finally nodded.

Harry got up and walked through. And suddenly he was standing in Draco Malfoy's bedroom in Malfoy Manor. But he little noticed the enormity of the room. All he saw was Draco, looking suddenly small and a bit forlorn in the firelight. Harry went right to him, drew him to his feet, and tilted his chin upward with a finger. "I promise. One kiss," he whispered. He leaned in and pressed his lips tenderly to Malfoy's-and how wonderful it was. Warm, soft, his breaths puffing from his nose to Harry's cheek. Harry didn't take more, didn't urge his lips open, but even so, he couldn't resist a final lick to the man's lower lip as he drew away.

"Goodnight, Draco," he whispered.

"G-goodnight, Potter."

Harry smiled. "'Harry.' Can't you call me 'Harry' by now?"

Draco looked down, his face hidden under his fringe. "I'm still nervous. I...it's a hard habit to break."

"I know. I'll leave you alone now. Until tomorrow night, then."

"Goodnight...H-harry."

* * *

Harry rose early the next morning, trying to think of a place to take Draco to dinner. He didn't know of any Wizarding places and so many had been shut up when Voldemort's minions took over. Businesses were barely getting started again. That meant he should find a Muggle place. But would Draco go to a Muggle restaurant?

Harry wrapped himself in his coat and stepped down out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place and started walking. He could find a place and Draco would go. After all, the git had to get used to the new world order. Couldn't wallow in Death Eater self pity forever.

Harry inhaled London with a new purpose. He felt good. He felt alive. For the first time since Voldemort's death, he felt almost...normal.

He came upon a row of shops and restaurants and began to read the menus posted outside. He'd have to exchange his money for Muggle money and after going inside the place he chose and making a reservation, he turned quickly down the lane and headed for Diagon Alley.

He reached a deserted side street and Disapparated, appearing again on the cobblestoned avenue of London's Wizarding street. Gringotts stood tall and gleaming in the sun at the end of the lane and he headed for it.

Inside the Goblin bank, people turned their heads to watch him make his way across the marble floors, but he ignored them. He had better things to think about these days.

The Goblin looked him over, but when Harry presented his key the Goblin didn't so much as flinch at the name "Harry Potter." Harry quickly retrieved a bag full of Galleons from his vault and exchanged most of them for Muggle money. And then a thought occurred to him. He turned back to the Goblin. "Erm...excuse me. But...what of the Malfoy vault?"

The Goblin eyed him with a sneer. "What of it?"

"I was just wondering if the Ministry had...you know. Blocked it in some way."

The goblin smiled a crenellation of yellow teeth. "Block it? The Ministry?" He leaned forward. "Whomsoever holds the key may enter their vault, Mr. Potter. It is a sacred trust between the keyholder and the Goblins of Gringotts. Anything less is unacceptable."

"Oh, I see. Well...thank you very much."

The goblin had already forgotten Harry. Harry shrugged and went on his way. But as he passed a window, he caught his reflection and looked at his clothes, and wondered if he shouldn't go shopping first. He could do with something nice. And though he liked being a wizard and all, he still favored Muggle clothing over robes. He'd have to do his shopping in Muggle London. But where to go?

* * *

The hour struck and Draco jumped as the clock chimed the time. He looked at himself in the mirror one last time. An owl had arrived a few hours ago from Harry, explaining that Draco needed to wear Muggle clothes. Muggle! Queering himself was one thing, but going Muggle was quite another!

He found it in the back of his wardrobe. A turtleneck and an Armani suit in charcoal grey. It still fit him well, though he was thinner. He brushed his fringe away from his eyes and tried not to sneer at his reflection. "All right, Draco. Show time."

He Apparated to the place Harry wrote about and found himself at the mouth of a Muggle street lit by street lamps. Couples and Muggles in small groups were milling in front of the closed shopfronts, window shopping. Light spilled from the restaurant where he was to meet Harry. When he reached the door, he noticed the smells coming from the place were at least appetizing. He hadn't known what to expect.

Inside he looked around and a man in a suit approached him. "Are you looking for the Potter party?" he asked.

It felt so strange, all of it. "Erm...yes," he answered nervously. The man led him to a far corner of the candlelit room. At least they know how to light the place, thought Draco, looking at the couples at the tables. It seemed to be the place for romantic assignations. Oh great, great.

And there he was. The candlelight reflected off the lenses of his glasses and he looked up as Draco approached, those bright green eyes even greener when the light caught them. He stood at his place and smiled, gesturing toward the empty chair. Draco noted that their table was in the very back against a wall. A lot of privacy.

Potter even scooted around the table and for one horrific moment, Draco thought he would pull the chair out for him like a bloody gentleman. But it was far worse; Harry leaned over and kissed his cheek. Harry reddened and then sat again.

Taken aback, Draco stood like a fool until he realized what he must look like and quickly sat.

"Hi," said Harry. "You made it."

"I said I would come."

"I know. But it's Muggle and-"

"One must get used to these things," he said distractedly fiddling with his serviette and glancing at the couples at the other tables, absorbed in one another.

"It's just that there weren't that many Wizarding choices right now. And this is better. No one knows us."

Yes, it did have that advantage. Draco had already thought of that. It was one of the reasons he agreed to it.

The waiter arrived, saving Draco from staring wordlessly at Potter who was beaming back at him. What did Harry see in him, anyway? They'd never gotten along before. Why this sudden interest? He decided to ask.

"Look Potter-er...Harry. Why is it you just decided to...to...ask me out? It's not as if we were best mates, you know."

Harry flicked the corner of the menu annoyingly. "I know. It's just that...I'm attracted to you." He blushed furiously. It took all of Draco's control not to make fun of it. "I mean...," Harry went on, "I guess I always have been. Our Quidditch competition was just some sort of alpha male rivalry and then there was sixth year when I followed you around all the time."

"'Alpha male rivalry'? Has Granger been filling your head with psychological rubbish?"

"No. I've been reading about it myself. At the library. Muggle library. And Hermione and Ron...don't know."

"Don't know? About you being a poufter, you mean?" Draco leaned on the table and laughed. "Oh Potter! It would be such fun to blackmail you."

Harry wasn't smiling. "Except you'd be implicated, too, remember."

Draco stopped laughing and frowned. "Hmm," was all he said and looked down at his menu. "So. What's good here?"

"Don't know," said Harry behind his menu. "Never been here before. Never been in a restaurant before."

Draco's menu slammed down. "What? What do you mean you've never been in a restaurant before?"

"That's pretty simple to interpret, Malfoy. I've never been in a restaurant. I don't think you can really count the Leaky Cauldron. I guess there was that one time with Cho Chang in Hogsmeade in that bloody tea room, but that's it, really."

"Potter, everyone's been to a restaurant."

"Well I haven't." He was starting to look irritated.

"What about those Muggles you lived with?"

"Could you keep your voice down," he whispered, looking around. "Those Mug-my relatives never took me out. Whenever they wanted to go, they left me with a sitter."

"You've got to be kidding!"

"And just what about my tone of voice would indicate that?" Harry's dark brows were furrowed and he was studying his menu with unrelenting intensity, refusing to look at Draco.

I'll be damned. Draco shifted on his chair and raised his menu again. "Well...I didn't know. Always thought you had the world served to you on a silver platter."

It was Harry's turn to lower the menu. "Whatever made you think that?"

"Oh come on, Harry. I heard about 'Harry Potter' all my life before I got to Hogwarts. You were as famous as the Dark Lord himself. Everyone always assumed you lived the life of luxury."

Harry laughed unpleasantly. "Luxury? I didn't even have my own room until I discovered I was a wizard."

Draco's menu hit the table again. "What do you mean you didn't know you were a wizard? How much of an idiot were you, anyway? You surely must have done accidental magic."

"Yeah, I did all the time. I just never knew what it was."

"It was magic, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry looked around again and leaned forward, talking in a hoarse whisper. "But I didn't know! If you had been raised like a Muggle you would have put all those things down to weird coincidences. Muggles are raised to think that magic doesn't exist."

Draco frowned. What the hell? How lame was that? No wonder the Ministry had all those laws about keeping it a secret. Draco had never really given it much thought before. "So...so you didn't have it easy?"

"Right in one, Malfoy."

"So why were you so stuck up?"

"I wasn't stuck up. You were stuck up."

"Was not."

"Was too."

"It's just a certain manner of the very rich, Potter. I suppose knowing your upbringing, you wouldn't understand that."

Potter smiled and then began to laugh. Draco frowned. "What's so funny?"

"You. I missed this 'you'."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you and your family. You all seem scared of shadows now."

Draco sneered. "And you would, too, if everyone hated you. Hate mail, people trying to curse the house, sending Howlers. And we can't even access our vaults."

Harry sat back, his menu forgotten. "People do those things?"

"Yes, Potter, they do." Draco crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at the table.

"But, that's not right. You should tell the Ministry-"

"Right. That would help. Why didn't we think of that?"

"Oh." Harry fiddled with the menu's corner again. "I'm sorry about that. But what did you say about your vaults? Because the Goblins told me as long as you have the key no one can touch them."

Draco sighed. "Well, that's the trouble, isn't it? They confiscated our keys."

"Damn," Harry muttered. "Do you think...do you think I should mention something...?"

Draco smiled inside and eased his arms off his chest. He toyed with the tablecloth and looked down at it in a coy fashion. "I don't know, Harry. That's sort of taking advantage of you."

"But it's not fair. I mean...I think you all paid your price. Everyone has to get along now. I'll go to the Ministry tomorrow and see what I can do."

Score! Draco hid his smile as he raised his menu. "I'm suddenly feeling hungry. The steak looks good. How about you?"

* * *

The steak was good and so was the wine Draco chose for them. Draco was feeling better now that he had accomplished at least something he was supposed to do. And Harry seemed to be having a good time as well. They chatted. About Quidditch, about some of the dirty tricks they played on each other. And then they even had a long talk about Snape over their coffees.

This was all news to Draco. Snape had never hinted at any of it. But it all made some twisted sort of sense. Leave it to Snape to be enigmatic to the last.

Harry was very quiet and thoughtful when talk of the former Potions Master diminished. Draco stared at the dregs in his cup. Maybe this is where they would end the evening. Draco felt better about that, too. Until Harry looked up, his sober expression falling away. He suddenly looked nervous again.

"Want to go back to my place?" he blurted.

Draco stiffened. "Oh. I...I guess so."

Harry got to his feet and tossed several strange papers to the table. "Let's go then."

Shit. Draco slowly got to his feet, laying the serviette gently on the table. Suddenly, all his new found confidence drained away. Potter wanted to shag him. He knew he did. He might even be forced to suck the man's cock. Oh God!

They side-alonged to a street that looked vaguely familiar to Draco. When they climbed the front steps of a particularly dark, brick house, Draco recalled where they were.

"This is the Black house," he said as Harry pushed the door open.

"Yeah. My godfather left it to me. Have you been here before?"

"When I was little." Draco peered around. Some of the wallpaper had been stripped off and there looked to be a general refurbishing process going on. One wall in the foyer was burnt with a curse scar.

"What was there?" asked Draco, pointing.

Harry looked at the scar with pride. "That used to be where a very disagreeable painting hung. But I managed to finally reverse the sticking charm."

"You'll have a hell of a time removing that curse scar."

Harry smiled. "Don't want to."

Draco shrugged. Potter was a strange bloke, to be sure. "I came here several times when I was young. I remember mad old Mrs. Black. And my cousin Nymphado-" Draco cringed at that and snuck a look at Harry. Harry looked suddenly bereft.

"I forgot you were related. I don't suppose you knew that she married Remus Lupin."

"Yeah. We heard that. The Dark Lord-"

Harry nodded. "Well, they had a baby. They named me the godfather."

Draco was taken aback. "You're taking care of a baby?"

"No. I wouldn't know the first thing about it. He's being raised by his grandmother. But I visit him a lot. He looks like Remus."

"Is he a...a...."

Harry sighed. "He isn't a werewolf. Jeez, Malfoy."

"Sor-ree! I didn't know."

They both fell silent. And then the silence dragged on until Draco felt uncomfortable. He was beginning to think he might yet get out of sleeping with Potter when Harry said quietly, "Do you want a drink...or something?"

Nervous as he was, Draco sure wanted one. "Yeah. Have you got something strong?"

"There's probably stuff here. I'm not sure...." He wandered out of the foyer and into the parlour. Draco hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following him.

Harry was picking up some cut glass decanters from a tea cart and peered at their coloured contents. He lifted the stopper of one and sniffed. The look on his face told Draco that Harry did not indulge. "Smells like liquor. Want some?"

Draco shook his head. Harry put the decanter down next to the glass tumblers and stared at the floor. He was clearly crap at seduction.

Draco, feeling that he had indeed dodged a hex, thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. "Well...maybe I should be going...."

"No!" Harry had come to life again and he whipped around the cart to stand in front of Draco. "No," he said more softly. "I...I want you to stay."

"I don't want a drink. And we've already eaten."

"I know," said Potter, drawing closer. "But I was hoping we'd...you know. Get to know each other better." Harry edged closer.

Draco began to sweat. He casually pulled his collar away from his neck and trailed his finger nervously along the tea cart. "We talked at dinner."

"Not talking," said Harry.

Draco glanced up. Harry was right there in front of him. His eyes were slightly dilated and his nostrils were flaring. His mouth, parted from panting, was slick and glistened in the firelight. His lips were plump and were the colour of coral. Draco held his breath.

Slowly, Harry moved in and gathered Draco in his arms. Draco wanted desperately to pull back, but instead, forced himself to be dragged into Harry's embrace. Harry just held him for a moment, his body trembling. Draco looked aghast, staring at the far wall, face against Harry's cheek. He could smell Harry's hair-just some light unidentifiable fragrance-the sweat on his neck, and the unmistakable musk of arousal. It was sweet, actually, the way he held Draco. Again, he wasn't groping or forcing himself on him. Just holding him. And then he pulled back to look at Draco's face, a tender expression in his eyes. He leaned in and planted a very soft kiss to Draco's lips, so soft the blond wasn't expecting it. Draco inhaled sharply and before he realized what was happening, Harry's tongue was snaking inside in an open-mouthed kiss.

A sudden flair of arousal assaulted the Slytherin. He felt himself moan as his arms went around Harry. Their bodies were pressed tightly together and the unmistakable feel of an erection was boring into Draco's thigh. But much to his horror, his own hardening cock was pressed taut against Harry as well.

He owed it to the intimate embrace and the gentle kiss, the likes of which he had never experienced before. Neophyte Harry may be, but he was a fast learner. And a natural.

And a kiss was a kiss.

Draco pulled back and Harry held him, his hands sliding up to Draco's head. He pressed his forehead against the Slytherin's. "Draco," he whispered. "Want to come upstairs?"

Oh God. Draco nodded, feeling the weight of his decision bearing down on him. Harry slipped his arm around Draco's waist and took his hand in his and walked with him to the staircase. Up they went. Like walking up to a gallows, Draco thought.

They reached a bedroom with an ordinary-looking four-poster. The floor-to-ceiling drapes were closed and a fat candle on the bedside table was lit, casting a flattering light across the silky duvet. Harry turned to Draco again and kissed him. "I've never done this before," he whispered to Draco's lips.

Shit, shit, shit! "Neither have I," said Draco. He hated that his voice was trembling.

Harry cupped Draco's face in so tender a manner that Draco gulped audibly. He kissed Draco again and Draco's mind was trying to catch up to the fact that his body was beginning to enjoy those kisses. "Let's get these clothes off, yeah?"

"Okay." Draco felt five years old again, being undressed by his mother when they had gotten home late from a party. Drowsy and relaxed, he'd allowed her to pull off his party clothes and redress him in his pajamas, tucking him into bed with a kiss. And though Draco didn't doubt he'd be tucked into bed with a kiss tonight, he did doubt he'd be redressed.

Even as he thought it, Harry was yanking his shirt free of his trousers and pulling it up over his head. Draco allowed it by lifting his arms. The cold air of the room assaulted the skin of his chest and he felt his nipples harden. Suddenly, Harry fixed his gaze to Draco's chest and Draco dearly wanted to cross his arms to protect himself. He watched Harry leaning over, wondering what he was about, when he felt lips seal over one nipple and a wet tongue flick it.

"Oh!" Draco jerked up and Harry wound a steadying arm around his waist. Fuck! That felt fantastic! Harry was not only licking one hard nipple but now he was sucking on it. His teeth gently rolled it and Draco arched into it and felt himself grow even harder. What the-?

A hand was skimming up his chest, calloused fingers raking over his pecs. Harry straightened and looked at Draco with a smile. "I just had to do that. Your chest invites it, after all."

Draco never knew his chest "invited" anything. It was just a normal teen-aged chest. At least he used to think so. His nipple was sore and cold when the wet met the cold air. Draco was stunned speechless. How was this night going to go when the least little thing turned him on when it definitely should not!

His cheeks feeling hot from a blush, Draco toed off his shoes as Harry did the same. Harry unbuttoned his own shirt, but he seemed impatient and only undid the top few before he pulled it off over his head and tossed it aside. Draco looked at Harry's chest and wondered if he was supposed to suck his nipples too. Harry's chest was broader and the skin not as pale as Draco's. He also had a smattering of dark hair sprouting from between his pecs and trailing down a long line to disappear into his trousers. His nipples were wine-coloured ovals ringed by bits of hair. His nipples had hardened in the cold air too-or was it from arousal? Draco didn't really want to know.

Harry reached for Draco again and his trembling hands fumbled at his belt and trousers. Draco didn't want to help but Harry was getting nowhere fast, so he gently pushed Harry's hands away as he unbuttoned the front of his own trousers and lowered the zip. He pushed the trousers down his legs and stepped out of them, feeling rather foolish standing in nothing but socks and his Y-fronts.

Harry was quickly shucking his own trousers and he did a little dance to step out of them that would have been amusing in any other circumstances. But Draco was certainly not amused. He was worried that he might faint from hyperventilating.

Harry's thighs were well-formed and muscled. And hairy. Standing in nothing but his underpants, Harry still looked like a hero. It almost made Draco cackle in hysterical laughter to imagine Harry facing the Dark Lord in nothing but his undies.

But he could have.

And the bulge in said underpants was pretty spectacular, too. If a bloke was into that sort of thing.

Harry was doing his own staring at Draco's package. But Draco knew that fear had driven his erstwhile erection away and Harry seemed a bit disappointed. "You aren't hard," he said.

"Th-this is new to me. I'm a bit nervous."

Harry smiled gently. "It's all right. We'll go slow." He grabbed his own crotch unselfconsciously. That erection was definitely not going away.

Oh God.

Harry approached him and drew his hands gently up and down Draco's arms. "Can I take off your underpants, Draco?"

Draco, never in his craziest dreams, imagined he'd hear Harry Potter's voice ask him that question. "O-okay," he croaked.

Harry took him in an embrace again, kissing his neck. It was a nice feeling, except for the erection prodding his groin. Harry lowered his hands from Draco's arms, sliding them down his flanks before he dug his thumbs into the elastic waistband and nudged them down. He knelt a bit to pull them all the way, stealing a look at Draco's bits. Draco's balls were shrinking up and he didn't even want to know how small his cock was getting. Harry didn't seem to mind. When he regained his feet he was still looking down at it. "I like the way you look," he whispered. "Blond down there, too." Draco gave a shuddering breath as a reply.

Harry hooked his fingers in his own waistband and looked up at Draco. "Can I?"

Draco nodded. And Harry Potter eased down his underpants until he was as naked as Draco. With One. Big. Difference.

"Wow," muttered Draco and then he cringed. Oh shit. That monster of a cock was never going to fit in his arse. No way. It was going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Draco stifled a whimper.

Harry frowned at Draco's expression. "You look a little worried. Don't be. We'll go as slow as you like."

Not slow enough. Draco tried a brief smile. "I just never...I mean when we were in school I never...."

"Never thought of me this way? Like a...lover?" He offered a sheepish smile. "Well, I was hardly that. Not very handy in the love department. But even though I'm a novice here I still have learnt a few things." He took Draco's face in his hands again. "I'll go slow. I'll be gentle." His eyes tracked up and down Draco's nude body. "But I have to tell you, Malfoy. I really want you. I want so much to be inside you."

Draco squeaked out a reply but Harry was already kissing him, swallowing whatever he was going to say. But this time, when he dragged Draco toward him, their skin touched. Draco gasped at the unexpected contact. Harry's skin was more than warm. It was hot and sweaty. And...and...that cock of his! It slammed against Draco's stomach like a steel pole between them. And he'd said it, said he wanted that...that thing...to be inside Draco, and Draco just wasn't sure he could do it.

The blond was being maneuvered toward the bed. Harry got on it first and held Draco's hand tightly, pulling him up. "Draco. I want you to lie on your stomach, okay? I'm just going to caress you and massage you a bit. That all right?"

Draco made a noise that seemed to imply he agreed. He lay down, grateful to hide his genitals. But the fact that his arse was on display left him feeling a bit more vulnerable. Especially with Harry's dick so prominently presented behind him.

He laid his face on his hands and closed his eyes, willing it to be over. Oh, if he only had a TimeTurner! He startled a bit when Harry's hands touched his lower back, but he relaxed a little when they only skimmed up his spine with gentle pressure. He really was just giving him a massage. Except that he straddled Draco's body and sat on his thighs. Harry's cock rested at the cleft of his bum, rubbing up and down the crack as he leaned forward to run his hands up to Draco's shoulders and down to his hips.

"You have really beautiful skin, Draco," he said wonderingly above him. "It's so smooth. I bet you use something really expensive."

Draco grunted. Whatever. He couldn't even begin to think when Harry was doing that. It felt good but at the same time the feel of his cock against him was downright scary.

Harry's hands traveled down to his bum and he squeezed and kneaded the cheeks for a while which was better because he had to slid down his thighs and his enormous member was now taken away from its intended target. But when Harry's hands cupped the underside of his arse and told him, "Scooch up on your knees, Draco," the Slytherin started to feel sick again.

Obediently, Draco did as told and with legs spread got up on his knees. He continued to hide his face in his arms and felt his whole body colour in embarrassment. Here he was, starkers, with his bare arse in the air and Harry Potter leering at him from behind. Get on with it, he kept chanting in his head. The sooner he got on with it the sooner it would be over. But what then?

It was torture, being in that position, just waiting. He could sense every part of his body suddenly. He knew his balls were hanging low, scraping the mattress, and because his thighs were spread so wide, his...his hole must be on full display. He'd never been so humiliated in his life! And so scared. No, he might have been more scared in the Dark Lord's presence, but at least he hadn't had to do this for him!

Draco wanted to sneak a peek behind him. What's he doing back there? Where the hell is he? Why isn't he-? Oh! A kiss dropped on his arse cheek. And then another. And was that...was that a lick? Harry's hands had returned but they were now clutching the back of Draco's thighs. But his breath, his face was definitely back there. And he was kissing his bum.

So now Potter decides to kiss my arse. Great. But that warm breath was moving southward and suddenly a warm, wet tongue-for that was what it surely must have been-was licking gently at the back of his sac.

Draco gasped. OmigodOMIGAWD! That felt fucking amazing! Potter's tongue laved all over his bollocks and Draco even felt teeth gently nipping at the loose flesh where it met the juncture of Draco's legs. Gooseflesh quickly spread all over Draco's body. Then Harry licked that spot behind his balls. He kissed it gently, and then moved down to rain kisses on his sac, sucking it a little as he went.

Draco couldn't help it. He moaned and jutted his hips.

Harry's voice sounded amused, even as roughened by lust as it was. "You okay, Malfoy?"

"Y-yes." Should he tell Harry to stop? He should. This was wrong. A straight boy had no business allowing a gay boy to do these things to him. Even if they did feel ridiculously good.

Harry's tongue continued its Draco tour, pressing firmly at his perineum. But he didn't stop there. Slowly, that warm tongue worked its way upward, gently at first. But it was definitely licking the skin of his crack near his hole.

"P-potter? What the hell are you doing?"

"Relax, Draco. It will feel good. I promise." His voice was strangely muffled and the reason for that was that his face was still nuzzling Draco's arse. There was a pause, and then Draco felt fingers opening his cleft even wider and that tongue again, that treacherously amazing tongue, licked little flicks of unspeakable pleasure directly on the soft flesh of his arsehole.

"OH! OH SHIT!" A flurry of trembling rippled up his body.

"Like that, do you?" Harry chuckled. And then that wet muscle licked all over his entrance and Draco could not control his hips as they rocked back and forth, simultaneously trying to avoid that tongue and to jam it further into his cleft. Those soft licks caressed Draco's flesh in a way he'd never dreamed of. Who would have thought that a bloke licking another bloke's... well...arsehole...could in any way be pleasurable? But it was. Oh it was!

"Oh Harry!" he groaned, not even realizing he said it.

A hand snaked beneath him and closed around the hard flesh of his cock. Yes, he had certainly hardened up at that. The hand was now pulling on his prick in long leisurely strokes. If Harry kept doing that then everything would be over soon.

But Harry soon stopped the licking and the stroking. Draco whimpered this time and almost complained aloud but something else was now happening behind him. Cool oil was dribbled on his gasping hole and there was something soft and blunt and large pushing at it. Draco immediately stiffened.

"Relax, Draco," he soothed. "You're loosened. I can see that."

Harry pushed and Draco felt as if he were being split open. He couldn't stop himself from yelping and then he scrambled up the bed and whipped around. "I can't do it. I just can't."

He looked back at Harry. His red cock was pointing at Draco and it was dripping with a sticky strand of pre-cum.

"Draco." Harry looked worried and he slid forward to soothe his blond lover, but Draco wasn't having any of that. He had almost been lulled by that tongue thing. Almost. It was great. But this other. He just couldn't go through with it.

He scrambled off the bed and hugged himself. Almost sobbing, he said, "I thought I could, but I can't do it. I can't go through with it. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to," said a now very worried Harry. He stood beside the bed, his erection still in full force. Draco looked away from it. "We'll do something else. We'll do it some other time."

"No. No. There won't be another time. I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm not queer. I'm not."

Harry eyed him curiously, almost laughing. "What?"

Draco shook his head furiously and hurried to pick up his scattered clothing. He pulled on his underpants quickly and hopped about, sticking his foot in his trouser leg. "I can't go through with it. It was a mistake. I'm really sorry about it but I'm not gay and I never was."

"What are you talking about? What do you mean you're not gay? Draco?"

Draco wiped the tears from his face and pulled on his shirt. "It was my father's idea. He figured out that you were gay and that I should play up to you so that the Malfoys could be seen in a favourable light again. By association." He stuck his foot in his shoe and pressed down, trying to slip it on.

It was dawning on Harry's face. Draco saw his expression change from worry to shock. He was beginning to look like he did when he discovered Fred Weasley died. For some reason, that sent a shock of guilt through Draco's gut.

Draco struggled for a while with his other shoe but he couldn't fit his foot in it so he snatched it from the floor and hugged it to his chest.

Draco now stood awkwardly, his shirt wrong-way around and his foot in one shoe. And Harry was looking more and more devastated. Draco suddenly didn't want to look at his face anymore.

"You mean...all of this...was just an act? You were trying to...use me? By...by...prostituting yourself?"

Draco refused to look at the man. If Harry had had his wand in his hand, Draco knew he would be toast. Best be prepared to make a run for it. "Erm...that was the general idea."

"And you're not gay? At all?"

"Um...no. Not really. I'm sorry."

"No," said Harry, sinking dispiritedly to the bed. His eyes blinked furiously. "I'm the one who's sorry. Look what I made you do. I kissed you and touched you. That must have been pretty disgusting."

"Well...." Draco shrugged. He edged toward the bedroom doorway.

"God, I nearly buggered you," he went on in that disconcertingly dead voice. "That will give you nightmares for weeks, no doubt."

"I just...I'm just really sorry." He crept closer to the door.

"Oh. Okay." Harry's face was blushing a deep red. He stared at a spot on the carpet halfway between himself and Draco. "All those things I did. All those things I said. They were just a joke to you. Well done, Malfoy. I guess you did it to me again."

Draco stopped in mid-creep. "No. Oh no, no. Harry, it was really great. And I wish to hell I was in a position to really appreciate it, you know. 'Cause it was nice. And sweet. Really it was. But I'm just not...that way."

Harry raised his face at last. His eyes were shining wetly behind his glasses. "So your dad put you up to this? Trying to get the Malfoy name in everyone's good graces again. Not very nice for you."

This completely defeated Harry was something Draco had never seen before. A strange flip in his stomach told him how wrong it was.

"Tell him it's all right," Harry went on. "I'll speak to the Ministry for you. I'll get you your vault keys back. I did promise."

"N-no, Harry. You don't have to do that."

"But that's why you went to all this trouble." His voice was steadying and fell to a deadly tenor. "I mean my God, Malfoy. You certainly went to great lengths. You should get more than a free dinner out of it."

"Harry, really...."

"You don't have to call me 'Harry' anymore," he said sharply. "There's no reason to, after all. We aren't mates." Harry was trembling. His hands curled into fists.

"But I'm really sor-"

"I think you should get out now."

"But I'm-"

The room began to shake. "Get. Out."

Draco didn't wait. He took one last look at Harry-cheeks streaked with tears and brow furrowed menacingly-before he sprinted out the bedroom door, careered down the staircase, and Disapparated before he reached the front door.


On to Chapter Three
"Worst Enemy"

Back to Chapter One
"Lamb to the Slaughter"

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