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By Bracken Pairing: Harry/Draco Disclaimer: Yes, I own them, and yes, they ARE real! Oh, and need I mention that I'm a compulsive liar? The Goddess who is J.K. Rowling owns them all. Don't sue ME, I'm not making money off them. Cross my heart. Spoilers: None really. But they're older - slightly. Feedback: Don't make me beg, it's not friendly. Dedication: To my twin Terence, who has left this realm and moved on. Look Terence: I wrote NC17 slash!!! Chapter Three: "Match" Harry had expected to wait far longer. He hadn't expected Fate to intervene - not that he called it Fate at the time. Then it was just . . . ** . . . Hideous co-incidence** thought Harry, as Snape, with a gently malicious smile at Harry, paired him with Draco for the next potion brewing. Sheer humiliation had had Harry avoiding Draco since their last encounter and, coming to stand around the large school cauldron, Harry tried valiantly to avoid eye- contact as well. No such luck. The cinnamon smell of Draco coaxed Harry into sneaking glances. Draco seemed to be very absorbed and to know exactly what he was doing in the good fortune potion they were making. He seemed oblivious to Harry's intent study of him. Draco dropped in some fragrant rosemary and began to slowly stir clockwise. Harry relaxed and took his time staring, pausing only to hand him ingredients, Draco was too preoccupied to notice him now. "So, *Harry*, like what you're seeing?" Draco looked up and quirked an eyebrow in inquiry. From under platinum hair his eyes sparkled with unrestrained mischief. Harry paled visibly and began to make an excuse to defend himself but Draco's laughter cut across whatever he intended to say. "Don't even bother to protest, Potter, I shouldn't have asked, I really don't care about *your* preferences, all that matter are *mine*." Harry's breath caught at the insinuation and he looked up at Draco sharply, finding him enveloped in the rising steam of cauldron, looking unearthly in all his tones of white and silver. "Are you saying you like me, Malfoy?" Draco Malfoy the spectre blinked before he chuckled, "No, but I *AM* saying I like this." He gestured back and forth to the air between Harry and himself, "How can I not enjoy laughing at you Potter?" Harry's fists clenched at his side and he would have taken a swing at Malfoy if the lesson hadn't ended. Before he knew it, they were all filing out of the dungeons. Harry wasn't aware Draco was behind him until he heard the familiar voice whisper close by his ear. "Meet me down here at midnight. Oh, and Harry?" Harry turned to find himself startlingly close to Malfoy as he continued to speak. "Wear something long and warm, the dungeons are freezing" "Why in Hades' name do *you* care Malfoy?" asked Harry suspiciously. "Wouldn't want your knees getting cold when you have to get down on them." replied Draco tongue- in- cheek as he turned the corner laughing, once again leaving Harry at a loss for words. His breathing was shallow, but Harry convinced himself it was all due to rushing down to the dungeons. He paused outside the Slytherin dorm, waiting apprehensively for Draco. **Draco** thought Harry. It seemed unfair that he had ceased being **Malfoy** in his thoughts when this plot was probably the most devious and deserving of his family name that he had ever engaged in. But try as Harry might to change his perception, Malfoy was Draco now, irrevocably. More of a person to him than he had ever been, since that stolen midnight kiss. This past week, since Draco had first threatened to talk about his midnight wanderings and therefore destroy all opportunities to sneak out and meet with his Godfather, Harry had had trouble sleeping. At first it had only been anxiety over what Draco would blackmail him into doing. But since last night, now that he knew *exactly* what Draco wanted of him, Harry found that when he did sleep his dreams took a disturbing turn. His altogether pleasant dreams of hand-in-hand strolls with a random, faceless girl had morphed into erotic, fast-paced fantasies that left him breathless, hard and wanting. More disturbingly, there was no faceless girl, there was a boy, and he had a face, a voice and a name. "Draco…" said Harry aloud to himself. "I'm right here Potter, though if I'd known you were calling out for me I'd have come sooner." Harry whirled around to come face- to -face with a smirking Draco, who continued talking, "Speaking of cumming, follow me, I know a place were we can do this." Draco paused thoughtfully " "Do this" or "do you", English is *so* versatile, don't you think? Oh, here we are." said Draco brightly, outside a door, not stopping to hear Harry's opinion. Unbeknownst to Harry, Draco's sleep had also been plagued by similar dreams after that kiss. Draco's method of consoling himself after waking trembling in his bed was his new mantra, a chant he turned to whenever thoughts of Harry took possession of his mind: "It's ok to want him, just make him want you more." Draco knew that this was the only opportunity he'd have to sate his desire for his enemy and he was ok with that. The aggressive boy found that once he had conquered something he became bored with it. However, he was determined to make this good for Harry. The more Harry wanted it, the more it would hurt him when Draco said he wasn't good enough. With all these thoughts running through his mind Draco reached out and turned the handle on the door of the unused room. It was small and dusty. Filled with boxes of old textbooks and bundles of moth eaten velvet drapery. In one corner there was a single metal camping bed just under a small window that let the weak moonlight in onto it. **All in all, it looks very much like a cell.** Thought Harry. He became vaguely aware that Draco was speaking and reigned his thoughts in. "I didn't catch any of that Malfoy, what were you saying?" Draco turned from just casting a locking spell on the door. "I said, Potter, undress." In a repeat of the night before, Draco leaned back against the door. He folded his arms and fixed his gaze on Harry, who stood mortified in the center of the room. "Don't waste my time Potter, you're not worth my entire night." "If you don't want to do this with me Malfoy, then why are you here?" "Because I know how much YOU don't want to do this with ME, Potter, and quite frankly, it makes it worth it." Harry's eyelids drop closed, he starts undressing slowly. "Open your eyes and look at me Potter." He looks up and Draco is staring at him, but thankfully his eyes are not watching his face but following the path of his quaking hands as they slip his robe buttons out of their places. Another button slips through, and Harry's robe is open down to just above his navel and Draco's still watching. Harry shrugged his shoulders out of his loose robe and shuddered as it slipped down his body and pooled on the floor round his feet. His skin tingled from the cold in the dungeons. Pale, lean body hardened from quidditch gleaming dully in the moonlight that filtered through dismally small window. Clad only in boxers, but every inch the Gryffindor, Harry raised his chin proudly, challengingly, and glared at Draco. "When I ordered you to undress, Potter, I meant everything." Rustle of fabric. Drawn out silence. An eternity in which all manner of things could have been said, could have been done. But none were. Harry couldn't bring himself lift his gaze this time round. He didn't know Draco had moved and startled when the boy materialized, still fully clothed, before him. Draco put his hand under Harry's chin and lifted his head up to look at him. Harry was shaken, gone were the insults, the innuendo, the damnable smirk. A look of frightening intensity had replaced them and Draco's eyes shone with moonlight and lust. **God, so beautiful.** Draco was amazed. Harry was beautiful and if there was anyone schooled in acknowledging beauty it was a Malfoy. All through his life Draco had been presented with the most charming trinkets, exquisite delights of coloured glass and jewels and ebony carvings. It was almost a pity that all these treasures were gifted him - Draco Malfoy inevitably broke his toys. And here was perhaps the most beautiful thing ever presented him by fate, Draco yearned to touch and he ached to break. Tipping Harry's chin up so he could see those legendary eyes, Draco moved in closer and gently pressed his lips to Harry's cheek. "Have…" Another fleeting kiss, lower on his cheek, Draco's lips just touching the corner of Harry's mouth. "…you ever…" Third kiss, trembling lips meeting trembling lips for a fraction of a second. "…been touched this way?" Draco's hand fell away and met Harry's eyes enquiringly. Harry shook his head, swallowed, and spoke. "Not this way, not…not in any way." **Good,** thought Draco, **and no matter who comes after me, no matter all the times you will find yourself in someone else's arms, no-one will ever touch you as I have. You will be mine until you cease to be.** Draco smiled at Harry and stepped even closer. His arms went around the naked boy and came to rest the small of his back. Draco rested his chin on Harry's shoulder, his lips right by Harry's ear. And then, like a fervent wish and a curse combined Draco whispered his thoughts out loud. "You will remember my touch for the rest of your life." And Draco stepped away. Harry gasped, mingled shock at Draco's vehement words and at the loss of warmth Draco had been providing in the cold, stone room. Draco stood, appraising Harry, wondering where to begin and remembering that he had to make this so spectacular that Harry wouldn't just want him - he'd need him. "Close your eyes." Draco whispered and he began to pay the typical Malfoy homage to beauty. He kissed behind his ear and then lower, at the curve of his jaw. Harry stood stock-still, his hands clenched into fists. Draco slid his lips down Harry's neck and across his collarbones, stopping to blow into the hollow of his throat and marvel at the visible throb of pulse. There was a hitch in Harry's breathing and Draco smiled. On his knees behind the boy, running his tongue along the backs of his knees then up the line of his spine. Rising to bestow deep bites his shoulders. Harry was gasping and trembling and visibly aroused and Draco was proud of himself. He slipped round to face Harry, who had squeezed his eyes shut and was biting his bottom lip so hard it bled. "You're not allowed to hurt yourself…" said Draco gently, touching Harry's lip, "…that's my privilege." And he leaned in and swept his tongue raggedly along Harry's full bottom lip, tasting the tang of blood and hearing the strangled gasp of pleasure and pain. He stepped back, grabbed Harry's wrists and fiercely pressed kisses on the inner side of them. Draco bent his head flicked his tongue across Harry's nipples and was rewarded with a low moan that grew even louder when he scraped at them with his teeth. He teased a path down Harry's smooth chest and then lower, using his tongue to trace the lines of his muscles. Harry was dizzy and swaying on his feet. When Draco, in an erotic promise of what was to come, thrust his tongue into the other boy's navel, Harry's knees buckled and his world slipped. Neither of them was completely sure how they found their way to the bed. Harry was still reeling from sensation and Draco was too absorbed in his thoughts over how extraordinarily responsive the other boy was. More responsive than himself, more than any of his other lovers. **Tell me, little one, is this what happens after a lifetime of craving contact and not receiving it? Don't worry,** Draco silently promised, "I'm not going anywhere - just yet.** And he lay him down and drew away to disrobe, returning to take Harry's mouth in a long, deep kiss that had them both panting for air. Draco's nails raked down Harry's chest and stomach, causing Harry to arch up and groan enticingly. The lower Draco's fingers danced the more frantically Harry clutched at the sheets beneath him. "*Please*…" "Please who, Harry?" "Please *Draco*." "What do you want Harry?" "I want…I want you…to touch me." "Oh, but I am." "But I want more…" whispered the boy, more than a little aghast at this revelation. And Draco smirked. How perfect, could things go any more according to his plan? "Look at me Harry." Large, completely trusting emerald eyes turned to his. Apparently the boy had decided to forsake his suspicion just because Draco was gentle. **Fool.** "You want me?" a nod. "But what am I?" "A boy." And Harry shifted impatiently, trying to create more friction. Draco chuckled **So naïve** "Try again, little one." And relisation dawned on Harry. "My enemy." "Clever boy. Still want me?" "Yes…" whispered Harry, his voice unsteady. **Game. Set. Match.** thought Draco, there was no turning back now, not for either of them. He rewarded Harry with a passionate kiss and whispered for him to spread his legs, an order Harry acquiesced to with a fetching blush and averted eyes. Draco positioned the boy to his desires all the while stroking and murmuring, as though gentling a cat. Muttering an incantation Draco felt his fingers go satisfactorily slick. "Relax, I'm going to do this slowly." **Gently now, you want him to enjoy this.** Harry gasped as the tip of Draco's fingers came to rest in a place he never thought anyone would ever touch him. Draco felt Harry tense up and frowned before reaching between them and closing his hand around Harry's shaft. The boy sobbed and moaned and before he knew it Draco had two fingers in him and was beginning to thrust shallowly. Harry gasped at the new sensations. He had never *ever* felt so vulnerable or so connected to anyone before. **Ironic** Harry thought, between those bright moments of pure sensation, **that I should feel this with none other than Malfoy, but maybe, in some twisted way, it makes sense.** and then he gave up on thinking and gave in to feeling. As far as Harry was concerned, Draco was being too gentle, and so he tried to up the tempo himself. He arched into Draco's hand and thrust back onto his fingers. He was effectively trapped between those slim hands, those graceful fingers, and he would have it no other way. Just when he felt himself going over the edge, there was a sudden loss of contact that brought him back. Draco wasn't touching him. "No!" Harry sobbed desperately. Hands going up of their own will to try and clutch Draco closer. "Shhh. We're going to this properly." And Harry felt a burning pleasure laced with pain as Draco slowly slid into him. Again Draco's hand closed around him and they united for a kiss. But still Draco didn't move. Harry whimpered in frustration and looked up appealingly. "Beg me." Draco ordered and Harry, beyond dignity or humiliation, rushed to comply. Draco let himself give in. Slowly, a rhythm was achieved. The dusty sheets, the storeroom, the entire castle melted into nothing around them. All that was real was what they were sharing and the moonlight that let them see each other. They came together, Harry quieting his cries by biting Draco's shoulder as the other boy tried to even out his ragged breaths and reclaim his rationality. Afterwards they lay trembling, cooling sweat glistening on their slight forms, limbs in the classic lovers' tangle. As soon as he had the strength, Draco climbed off the bed and began to dress. Harry lay on his side, facing Draco, mussed hair falling into his eyes. The dim light did nothing to hide the bites and scratches that alluded to just moments before. Draco turned his back on them, he needed to leave. "Must you go?" came Harry's hesitant voice. "Yes." The answer was clipped. "You…you'll contact me about…about next time?" **This is it** Draco closed his hands into fists. "There will be no next time." He said forcefully, his back still facing Harry. "I don't understand…I thought…are you going to the teachers?" "Oh, your little secret's safe with me. You could have denied me and I still wouldn't have told on you, rather futile, no teacher that cares about you would have believed me. I just used it to get you here." "But then…I don't understand-" But Draco interrupted while pulling his shirt on. "Let's just say I was curious and I'm not curious any longer." He could *feel* Harry flinch. "So you don't want this again." "I do want this, I don't want you." "Damn you Malfoy, look at me and say that!" Draco steeled himself and turned to face accusing green eyes glistening with unshed tears. **Oh, he's beautiful when he's hurting.** came the abstract observation. Draco forced himself to rake his gaze down Harry's body. Then he looked in his eyes and smiled viciously. "Let's just say there's nothing worth wanting." Draco noted his own hands were quaking. He listened to Harry's soft gasp and watched as his eyes widened and tears finally began to fall. All the humiliation, rejection and pain spilled out in jewel-like beads of despair. Draco tried to savour his victory but found himself uncharacteristically unable to. He settled for a dramatic exit. Stalking out abruptly, robe swirling, shutting the door sharply behind him and leaving Harry with the darkness, his thoughts and Draco's words echoing in the silence. 05/05/01 A/N: If there is any demand I'd like to do a sequel **cough** FEEDBACK **cough** and am toying with the idea of Harry being the typical proud, brave, foolhardy Gryffindor. He decides that DAMNIT Draco doesn't get to ignore him this way, and maps out a seduction. What do you think Due to demand, the seqeul is underway, so keep an eye out for it. Thanks for all the reviews ^_^ |