dicta_contrion (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dicta_contrion) wrote2014-07-10 02:51 pm
dicta_contrion) wrote2014-07-10 02:51 pm
Potter’s Parselprostate (and the Chamber of Secrets) (part 2)
Title: Potter’s Parselprostate (and the Chamber of Secrets)
Author:
dicta_contrion
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 17.5k
Warning(s): (highlight for details): *mild dubcon – Harry is pressured to have sex to help Hogwarts/Hermione.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Hogwarts’ future depends on Malfoy’s texts. Too bad the key is up Potter’s arse.
Return to Part 1 or read the whole thing on AO3 here
There was a pinch, a groan, and a cough, and even after Harry’s eyes flew open it took him a moment to figure out where each was coming from.
The first was the easiest to discover. His neck was aching and twinged when he tried to lift his head, which was at an odd angle on an unfamiliar armrest.
Unfamiliar because it was, in fact, Draco Malfoy’s armrest. Draco lifted his head off of Harry’s chest, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and, as soon as they were open, groaned again, lifting a hand from Harry’s bare thigh to cover his face.
Then the cough came again, and they both paused at the realisation that it wasn’t coming from either one of them.
Draco, peeking between his fingers, looked towards the bar and let out a plaintive moan, flattening himself over Harry to, it seemed, try to hide behind the arm of the settee.
“Draco? What –?”
“Shhhhh, Potter,” he hissed, “don’t move, maybe he’ll go away.”
Harry followed along, though perhaps more due to the proximity of Draco’s hip to his morning wood than to any interest in obeying a Malfoy.
His erection rapidly ceased to be a problem when a terrifyingly familiar voice issued an acerbic rebuke from behind the bar.
“Hiding in the presence of Gryffindors? Really, Draco, must you fulfill only the worst parts of the Slytherin reputation?”
Harry worked his mouth open and shut helplessly and Draco, otherwise unmoving, reached a hand up to cover it.
“Your arse looks even more like your father’s than the last time you engaged in this particular sort of debauchery.” When Draco didn’t emerge, he continued. “Or is that you, Lucius? Perhaps we can reminisce a bit. Do you remember that stakeout in Manchester? Dead of winter, ‘79, was it? No heating charms allowed anywhere in the warehouse on penalty of Cruciatus, and you’d only share your fur-lined cloak if I got on my knees for it? Though,” he chuckled bitterly, and Draco cringed, “if I recall correctly, you were rather too warm to keep it on by the time I –“
“Enough!” Draco yelled, popping over the seatback and glaring fiercely. “You know perfectly well my father’s arse is neither this pert nor this firm, and I’ll thank you to keep the details to yourself.”
“Why, Draco. Good morning. Deigning to raise your head out of the upholstery to greet the peasants – how kind.”
Harry, pinned down by Draco’s legs, could practically feel the scowl, though the voice that followed was gravelly with fatigue and dehydration. “Is there a particular reason you’re gracing the parlor this morning?”
“Glover Hipworth took a turn through the Savannah last night on his way to the laboratory in the library. When I met him there he said he’d heard the unmistakable sounds of Parseltongue in this neck of the woods. I, of course, was terribly curious as to what the only living Parselmouth would be doing here. Sadly for all of us, Hipworth has good enough sense to have omitted a report of the other sounds he must have heard.”
“You were here all night?”
“Whilst I am not under the impression that portraits can lose their eyesight, it’s not the sort of claim I wish to test empirically. The single eyeful was quite enough. Though I’ll concede, Draco, that my curiosity remains. And since Potter is hardly the type to make an ungallant middle-of-the-night exit, I’d wager he’s still between your legs. Am I correct?”
With an embarrassed groan, Harry raised his hand over the back of the sofa and gave a feeble wave.
“Mister Potter. Is the rest of you here as well, or did Draco make do with your hand alone?”
“Thought you’d already know that.”
“Impertinence, Potter. I assure you, I’ve done my best to forget.”
Kicking free of Draco’s legs, Harry took a soothing breath and joined Draco in kneeling on the cushion, finding himself behind the seatback as he faced Severus Snape, backed by tall grasses and a few Baobab trees.
“Good morning, Professor.”
“I see you’ve forgotten your tie, Mr. Potter. If only the dead could take points. Or,” he drawled, “if only the living were in possession of their full faculties. Draco, what is the meaning of this? And do stopping staring at Potter’s rear end.”
Draco snapped his eyes to Snape’s portrait, and Harry couldn’t help a tiny smile at the realisation that they’d wandered. “Buggery and depravity, sir. I thought you were rather well acquainted.”
“Parseltongue, Draco? Really? A Parselmouth terrorises your home for a year and you come away with a new fetish.” Snape rolled his eyes and sighed. “Only a Malfoy.”
Harry was suddenly indignant. “You’re one to talk! Stalking around, watching other people…you know.” He trailed off, embarrassed, and tried to regroup. “And why aren’t you at Hogwarts, anyway?”
“My whereabouts are hardly your concern. Though, now that you mention, I do have other portraits to visit.” Snape turned to Draco with a tight smirk. “The one in Paris, for example. Any messages to convey to your father? Beyond the obvious, of course.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“And miss the opportunity to provoke your father’s competitive spirit? No, I think I’d best be off.”
With a swirl of his oil-painted cloak, Snape swept from the frame, and Draco sank down on the seat and let out a noise halfway between a groan and a whimper.
“Is it really that bad?” Harry asked, dropping down beside him. “Snape telling your father, I mean?”
“No, no. Lucius will hardly be surprised by the general sort of activity. The choice of partner, on the other hand. Not to mention the noble intentions behind it… well, let’s hope he never finds out about that bit.”
“Uh, isn’t he underwriting the committee?”
Draco sprawled out on the couch, resting his head on the back of the seat and giving Harry a clear view of his prick, substantial and inviting even lying soft over his bollocks.
“Up here, Potter.” Harry blushed as Draco continued. “Of course he is. What was it you said? ‘Throwing money at things and holding on to dark books’? The Malfoy way?”
“Is that what you’re doing, then?”
“Well,” Draco surveyed Harry, whose skin heated, “it’s not as though I’m not getting anything out of it.”
“S’pose not,” Harry muttered. “Do you really have a Parseltonuge thing?”
Draco stood and went in search of his trousers. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”
“I’m not.”
Draco stiffened. “Pardon?”
“I wasn’t complaining.” Harry grinned at his back. “Just curious about whether you meant it.”
“Surely that much is obvious by this point.”
Yanking on his jeans, Harry went to stand behind Draco. “Then you might be interested in what the snake had to say.”
Draco, pale and standing ramrod straight, turned to face Harry, his trousers still undone and framing a few curly, dark blond hairs against the pale skin. Harry was so entranced he had to ask him to repeat his response.
“Academically, of course.” His voice was formal and clipped and – like his arse, apparently – rather resembled Lucius’.
“Academically?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh, for – What is it, Potter?”
“The snake said it doesn’t have the plans, it has a key. And it’ll show me if I take it to the Chamber.”
“Take it to the Chamber? What do you mean, exactly?”
“The box is its home, so we have to take it there, and it said something about drawing the sign of the Heir? And honoring its ancestors? Or ours – its and mine, I mean – I guess.”
“Merlin. What did you tell it, exactly?”
“That we needed to see the plans, and when it asked why – well, I didn’t think it would be that keen on having the Chamber closed forever, so I might’ve told it that we were protecting the Basilisk bones. It made me promise to do that, and then said it’d tell me the rest once I took it there. Why? Is that a problem?”
“That’s not exactly the ritual Granger and I had researched. The sign bit, yes, but having you there, not having the plans in advance…”
“Is that a problem?”
“There’s a reason Granger and I are the only two members of the Reconstruction willing to perform the ritual. It could be a bit dangerous. The element of unpredictability only adds to that. We’d assumed it required two people, but it may be, if it has to be present, that the snake counts as one. Having a third shouldn’t be problematic, but it does raise the issue of the particular requirements involved in having you talk to the snake.”
Harry shuddered. “Don’t exactly fancy doing that in front of Hermione. What if we tried again beforehand?
“And tell the snake you won’t be keeping your promise? Does that strike you as a wise course of action?”
“No.” Harry sighed. “What if you and I did the ritual together, instead?”
“Did you miss the part about it being too dangerous for anyone else to be willing?”
“Yeah, cause I’ve never done anything dangerous near the Chamber of Secrets. Can’t possibly imagine what that would be like.”
Draco quirked his lips. “I suppose you make an uncharacteristically clever point.”
“Was that a compliment, or did the drinks get to your head?”
“The drinks, obviously.” Draco’s lips were threatening a proper smile. “It will be quite perilous, you realise.”
“You don’t say.”
“And very complicated.”
“A magical ritual designed by the original Slytherin? Never would’ve guessed.”
“And I’ll have to bugger you again, of course.”
“Noticed that bit, did you?”
“Though,” Draco frowned, “We don’t know how long it’ll take, for you to translate and for us to do what the snake tells you.”
“You might have to keep it up for quite a while. So to speak, of course. Not up to the challenge?”
“You wish, Potter. Your arse is mine.”
“We’ll see about that.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not that last night was too shabby, but you’ll have to do a fair sight better.”
“Better? That was the shag of your life.”
Harry shrugged. “Like I said, not too shabby. But a ritual in the Chamber…well. You know what my arse can do,” he grinned and advanced, “twice. Is your cock up to the challenge?”
Draco stepped forward, bringing them almost chest-to-chest. “Slytherin’s snake won’t be the only one you’re begging for more.”
“We’ll see about that. Time and place.”
“This Sunday. Half two. Hogwarts.”
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
“Mr. Potter, did you really obtain your NEWTS without learning how to cast an adequate Impervius?”
Harry grinned sheepishly at McGonagall and shook the water from his hair, missing Draco’s scowl when some of it landed on his jumper. “Sorry, Professor. You know Hermione’s always been the Charms wiz.”
“Well, come in from the rain, all of you, and never mind about the charms right now. At least Granger and Malfoy wont leave puddles as we go.”
McGonagall turned and began to lead Harry, Hermione, and Draco past the Great Hall and up the staircase. Hermione fell into step with her and began describing the ritual while Draco and Harry trailed behind, not looking at each other and refusing to acknowledge the glares of Snape’s portrait, which followed them through the final corridor.
They drew to an abrupt halt in front of Myrtle’s bathroom and Harry had to jump aside to avoid stepping on Hermione’s heel.
After a stern pause, McGongall took up again. “I believe this to be our best chance yet at closing the Chamber and securing our students’ safety. Your work is appreciated and not, I understand, without risk. While we are all eager to close the books on this era of Hogwarts’ history, it is not worthwhile if it comes with additional loss of life or limb. Merlin knows we’ve all seen quite enough of that. If things take a wrong turn, you are to stop immediately. Am I understood?”
They nodded.
“Excellent. Quidditch begins in fifteen minutes and will minimise the possibility of unwelcome student interruptions. The game may take some time in weather like this – hopefully Bellweather will keep his head on straight regardless, that child… In any event, Miss Granger will cast all the necessary repelling charms just in case. Malfoy, Potter, you are to send me a Patronus immediately at the first sign of anything unexpected. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a game to attend. Best of luck to you all.’
The tension that built between Harry and Draco at McGonagall’s departure was interrupted by a thunderclap. They all jumped, and Hermione picked up where the headmistress had left off, casting several charms and turning to them. “Right then. We’ve reviewed the ritual and established as many safety precautions as possible. I’ll be in the library and have spare supplies if you need anything.” She patted a well-worn beaded bag. “If you need to send a Patronus to McGonagall, you’d better send one to me, too. Though at this point, nothing should go wrong. We’ve run through all the possibilities, and –“
“Yes, Granger, we have. We’ve got charts and supplies and the box and one happily willing Parselmouth. We’re as well prepared as Ravenclaws on the eve of an exam.”
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but Harry interrupted. “Really. We’ll be fine.”
“Promise you’ll let me know the second anything strange happens? Or, unusually strange, anyway?”
Harry laughed. “Yes. Promise.”
“And you’re okay to…you know.”
Nothing helped Harry suppress a blush like Draco’s rolled eyes. “Yeah, ‘Mione. It’s fine.”
“Alright then. Do try not to destroy anything, would you?”
Harry nodded and hugged her, gently guiding her away from the bathroom in the process. “Not if we can help it, promise. And we’ll come find you as soon as it’s done.”
“Alright. Be careful. Both of you.”
Draco returned her nod, and then she was off, leaving the two of them in the middle of the hallway.
As soon as she was out of sight, Harry turned and strode into the bathroom. He poked his head around the doorway when Draco didn’t follow, only to be met with a teasing smirk. “Who’s eager now?”
With an exaggerated sigh, Harry grabbed Draco’s robes and yanked him inside, leaning back against the stone wall and pulling him into a kiss.
Harry felt something hard and heavy press against his hip and rolled up against it.
He was panting heavily by the time Draco pulled away, grinning. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, Potter, but that’s a ritual candle you’re humping.” He laughed, breathy and low, at Harry’s confusion. “I do appreciate the enthusiasm, but perhaps you’d best save it for the ritual.”
“Oh. Right.” Harry carded his hair. “What’s next, then?”
Draco drew his wand and marked a giant, shimmering “S” on the floor, with one end at their feet and the other a few feet from the pipes under the sinks. He set a ring of unlit green pillar candles around the symbol, wide enough so that the last two sat to either side of the non-functioning tap.
Finally, he took the box out of his robes, laid it on the floor at the edge of the symbol closest to the sinks, and turned back to Harry.
“That’s all we’ve been able to discern from what we’ve gotten so far. Now you strip, I fuck you, and we hope the snake tells us the rest.”
“We just…go to it?”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. “I’d ask if you need a diagram, but Granger did actually draw you one.”
“And I did actually read it. So sorry for double-checking,” Harry scoffed. “Can’t imagine why I’d want to make sure there aren’t any extra steps in the dark ritual.”
Turning towards the taps and away from Harry, Draco huffed, “Yes, it’s entirely likely that either Granger or I left something out just for fun. Since this isn’t especially important to either of us.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Rain against the windows filled the silence between them.
“Really, I didn’t. I’m nervous, alright? But it’s not that I don’t trust you or anything like that.”
“Fine.”
“Really. Do you think I’d be here if I thought you were up to something?”
Draco’s posture softened, though he didn’t turn to face Harry. “Self-preservation has never been your strong suit.”
“I’ve only died twice.”
“But thrice would be a bridge too far?”
“Exactly.” Harry crossed the room and put a hand on Draco’s arm. “Draco, come on. “ When Draco didn’t turn, he continued. “Unless you’re not actually up for the challenge. In which case, I’ve brought you a present from the Muggle world.”
Harry pulled a silicone ring from his pocket and slipped it into Draco’s hand.
Draco rolled it between his fingers, but still didn’t turn.
“Are you not going to talk to me at all? Shall we leave the room and start over?”
After another’s moment’s pause, Harry started heading for the door.
“Wait.” Draco turned. “You can’t leave the circle now you’ve entered it.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Are you sure you read the diagram?”
“Yes,” Harry retorted, then paused. “I might’ve gotten a bit distracted just then, is all.”
“You’re not even naked yet.”
“Well, you were just standing there not saying anything. It’s a bit unnerving, you know.”
“Yes, well. It’s not every day the boy wonder confides his trust.” Draco rushed on when Harry smiled. “Or when I’m presented with some ridiculous Muggle – I’m assuming this is a sex toy?”
“You’ve never seen one?”
“Not made of this ridiculous material. Please,” Draco threw it to Harry and dipped a hand into the pocket of his robes to retrieve a broad, ridged gold band. “Wizarding toys, Potter. You’ve never seen one?”
Harry licked his lips. “How’re you going to get that on, exactly?”
“Who said I was going to?”
“You mean,” Harry looked down, “me?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “No, no. As you so kindly pointed out last time, this ritual may require exceptional endurance. And, well. Your arse is rather tight. And it’s necessary to take all due precautions.” Harry looked at him, brow furrowed. “Oh, never mind. I’ll put it on myself.”
“Oh!” Harry’s eyes lit and he grabbed the ring from Draco’s hand. “No need. I – sorry, bit slow.”
“That’s not exactly news.”
“Though…if I’m going to put it on you, you’ll have to take off your robes.”
Draco sighed, “Yes, Potter. Have you already forgotten that I told you to strip?”
“Just…strip?”
“So that it doesn’t get in the way of the ritual if we stop to take clothes off later.”
“We? So, you’re going to, too?”
In response, Draco unhooked the clasp on his robes and levitated them to a hook inside one of the stalls. “Make sure everything lands outside of the circle.”
Draco moved to the buttons of his waistcoat and Harry slipped the ring over his thumb to tug at his trainers, stuffing them with his socks and tossing them clear of the candles.
His jumper followed, and then Harry stripped off his jeans and pants in one go, almost stumbling over the waistband and hoping Draco hadn’t noticed. He balled it all up and aimed for a far corner, grinning when he made it.
Harry was naked, with a gold cock ring in one hand and his wand in the other, before he realised that Draco, whose shoes had just landed side by side under his robe and shirt, was still half dressed.
Draco’s fingers moved to his waistband and he flicked the top button free, then the next, and the next, and Harry’s eyes widened ever so slightly as Draco pushed the fabric over the rise of his hipbones, stepped out of his trousers, and levitated them to rest over the stall door.
Draco’s cock was half hard, head just slipping free of his foreskin, nestled in a bed of curls that descended from Draco’s abdomen, and Harry startled when Draco interrupted his attempt to memorise the image.
“Well, Potter?” Draco nodded at Harry’s hand.
“Right! Right.” Harry took a step forward, looked into Draco’s eyes, and grinned. “So, if we diverge from the ritual a little…”
“Diverge?”
“If, for instance, I put this on you with my mouth.”
Draco swallowed. “Probably not a good idea. Too much of a risk to go off-plan.”
“Too bad.”
“Rather.”
“Rain check?”
“Mmm.”
“Then why don’t you let me watch instead? Avoid the temptation to diverge.”
Draco took it from Harry and slid it over the head of his cock. Harry was hypnotized as Draco slipped it towards his pelvis, his cock and bollocks standing even further from his body as he settled the ring around them and exhaled. “Right, then.”
“Right. So.” Harry tore his eyes away. “The ritual.”
“Yes. The ritual.” Composing himself, Draco shook his head and blinked. “We need to bisect Slytherin’s mark. Usually you’d stand on the center of it and face the sinks, but there are two of us. You still need to face the sinks, but may not want to stay standing the whole time, so it’s best if you’d kneel, facing the sinks.”
“Just, right there?”
“Yeah.”
Harry turned and walked to centre of the circle and, with a last grin over his shoulders, dropped to all fours and spread his legs. “What next?”
Draco came to kneel behind him, running a hand down his back and coming to rest at his hip. “The snake tells us the rest.”
Harry was about to respond when he felt warm lips on his back, kissing a trail down his spine and to the small of his back. He arched into Draco’s mouth and whimpered when the tip of Draco’s tongue traced a path towards his arsehole.
“What are you doing?” Harry whispered.
“You asked if I was up to the challenge,” Draco hummed, lifting his head while dragging his nails down Harry’s back. “A Malfoy is always prepared.”
Harry gasped as Draco’s tongue slid towards its quarry, as Draco ran it around the rim of his hole and then slid over it. Fingernails raked down his back again, and he gasped and keened when the trail ended in a hard slap against his arse. And then Draco was lapping at him, and Harry’s arsehole clenched in an effort to pull him in deeper.
“Patience, Potter.” Harry could feel the smirk in his voice and tried to hold still.
He gave up and started grinding against his face when Draco worked his tongue inside of Harry. Draco purred contentedly, and the vibrations sent Harry reeling.
He choked back a moan when Draco’s hand wrapped around his cock and struck up a slow rhythm, bucking his hips forward instead, jerking into Draco’s fist.
Then Draco pulled away and Harry whimpered, bereft, stopping only when he felt the head of Draco’s cock press against him, and Draco’s body fold over his owns. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Harry panted.
Draco’s free hand slid up Harry’s side. “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”
“Yes, Merlin, yes.”
“Are you going to talk to the snake for me?”
Harry nodded furiously.
He heard Draco murmur a charm, and could feel warm wetness dripping from his hole. “You’re gonna be so tight, aren’t you?”
Harry rolled his hips against Draco, searching for the head of his cock.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Draco slid his cock into the crevice of Harry’s arse. “D’you want me to fuck you?”
Harry nodded again.
“Say it.”
“Fuck me. Please, Draco.”
“Merlin,” Draco breathed, and Harry felt the head of Draco’s cock come to rest against his hole.
“Want you. I want you.”
“Do you?” Draco had stopped.
Harry sat onto his knees, stretching around to find Draco staring at him. He looked a bit more contemplative than Harry was used to at this particular point in the proceedings and, Harry thought, a bit lost.
He took in Draco’s furrowed brow, the tightness in his shoulders, the way his bottom lip was stretched between his teeth, and he grabbed Draco’s head and pulled him into a searing kiss.
He didn’t relent until he felt Draco relax, felt his shoulders fall back and his hips push forward. Until Draco’s nipples were hard between his fingertips and Draco was breathing raggedly into his mouth. “Of course I do, you fucking arsehole.” He pulled away, looking Draco in the eye. “Fuck me, would you?”
Draco nodded, still short of breath, and pulled Harry into another kiss. Harry moaned into his mouth and returned it, pulling away only to nip at Draco’s ear and whisper “I want you, Draco.”
Draco closed his eyes and drew a deep, ragged breath, followed by a smooth exhale.
When he opened them again, Draco’s were filled with a sort of steely determination that Harry hadn’t seen in an age. Draco leaned forward as though to whisper some encouragement in Harry’s ear. Harry’s breath caught when Draco licked his way up Harry’s neck instead, not pausing until he was rolling Harry’s earlobe between his teeth.
Then he was grasping Harry’s shoulders and pushing him down onto all fours again, and his cock was at Harry’s hole, and he was sliding inside, and the burning heat, the fullness of it, the desperate sob that came from Draco’s chest sent Harry’s head spinning.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Harry groaned his agreement. “I want to hear you talk.”
Harry forced his eyes open and tried to focus. Draco’s cock was fuller and larger than the last time, and he was rolling his hips so that it brushed Harry’s prostate on each stroke, so that Harry wasn’t sure whether lightning or Draco was responsible for his flickering vision. He stared at the snake and felt the world slipping away. He let his mouth fall open, his gasps coming in time with Draco’s strokes, and then words began to issue from his lips.
“Snake of Slytherin, I call to you.”
Draco’s fingernails dug into his hips.
“Oh, mighty snake, I have brought you to honour our ancestors. Awaken and instruct me.”
The snake began to uncoil and lifted its head to stare at Harry. “You return, Heir of our father. Have you brought me to the bones of our brethren?”
“Yes, great snake. I have done as I promised. Please, will you show me how to protect the bones from those who seek to disturb them?”
Draco drove into him, seating himself so deeply that Harry could feel the cool metal of the top of his cock ring against his arse.
“I will do this, yes.”
“What must I do, great snake?”
The candles around them flared to life, bathing the room in soft, flickering light. The snake raised its head, slithering towards Harry and flicking its tongue to taste the air.
“The Chamber behind me. You must open it.”
“And then?”
“We will say goodbye and I will show you the key.”
Harry nodded. “Draco?”
“Yeah?” Draco’s breaths came in short gasps.
“I’m going to open it, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Draco?”
“Yeah?”
“You feel really fucking good.”
Draco grunted and bucked his hips so that he was buried entirely in Harry, who opened his knees even wider to take it.
Swallowing, Harry tried to focus his attention on the sink. “Open,” he hissed.
A white light emanated from the tap and it began to twirl until it was spinning so quickly as to be a glowing blur. Porcelain scraped stone as the basin began to sink. It disappeared, leaving behind a wide, metallic opening. The entrance to the Chamber.
Draco stilled for a moment. “Is that it?”
Harry nodded. “Don’t stop now.”
Draco’s bent forward and gripped Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t stop, yourself.”
Grinning, Harry nodded and shoved himself back onto Draco, rocking back to encourage a rhythm. “No chance.”
“Heir of Slytherin, you speak the language of Wizards.”
“Sorry, er. Sorry, great snake. I have opened the Chamber. Will you reveal your key?”
“First, we honour our ancestors.”
“Right.” Harry grunted as Draco thrust forward with renewed force. “How?”
The snake began to slither towards Harry, breaking free of the box entirely when its head reached Harry’s shoulder. It coiled around his arm and hovered by his ear. “We must mourn it. We must tell it of our sorrow at its death.”
“Will you, oh! ” Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he suppressed a moan as Draco shoved into him fast and hard. “Show me how?”
The snake turned to the faucet and hissed, low and quickly, too fast and quiet for Harry to make it out, then turned to him. “You must tell it your sorrows, your regrets.”
“My regrets?” Harry stilled and Draco followed suit.
“Alright?”
“Yeah. Just…yeah.”
“Heir of Slytherin, speak now.”
Harry took a deep breath and continued. “Oh, Snake of Slytherin. I come to mourn your past. I’m sorry you were not allowed to grow freely. I’m sorry you were made to hurt, to kill. I’m sorry your light is a secret to so many. I’m sorry that you were consigned to the dark by those who doubt your goodness.” The words flew from his mouth, accelerating as he went on as though urged forth by something outside of him “I am sorry I could not care for you. I’m sorry I never knew you. I’m sorry I did not find you in your youth.” Harry’s chest heaved as he fought for breath, his eyes beginning to burn. “I am sorry that I could not save you when it mattered. We were young and afraid, but I know now that you were so much more. Snake of Slytherin, forgive me.”
The snake, its eyes closed and tongue flickering, brushed Harry’s face. “You are salty, Heir. You mourn our brethren with honour.”
“I do,” Harry whispered. “And seek to honour his life in mine.”
“Then I shall show you my key.”
The snake began to move towards its box, its body blending with the dark wood.
Harry felt Draco’s fingers against his shoulder. “Is it working?”
Harry half laughed, half sobbed. “You could say that.”
The snake sank its fangs into the edge of the box and it slid open to reveal a short, oblong, piece of rounded marble, maybe three inches long and two inches around.
“Take my key, Heir of Slytherin.”
Harry balanced himself on one arm as Draco slowed to aid his stability. He lifted it out of the box and it glinted in the candlelight.
“This is the key?”
“Harry, is that a –?”
“This is the key. You must close the Chamber and seal the opening.”
“No,” Harry panted. “Looks like it though. It’s the key. Gotta close the…fuck. Slow, yeah?”
Draco doubled over, and Harry could feel him nod against his back.
“You hold the key to the Chamber. Close it now.”
“Close!” Harry shouted, and the basin began to re-emerge, and the tap spun back into existence.
“Now you must fill the entrance.”
“Fill…yes, fill it.” Harry paused, and Draco’s thrust grew slower and shallower behind him. “If I stand, I may not be able to speak to you any longer.”
“There is no more to say, Heir of Slytherin. Close the door, protect our ancestor, do honor to great Slytherin. Will you do these things?”
“Yes,” Harry promised.
“Stand, then, and go forth.”
The snake bit into the box again and the lid slid closed. It slithered into the border and took up its position across the top again.
“Stop for a second.”
Draco froze. “Stop? Is that –?”
“I have to fill the thing.”
“Ah. Right.” Draco gripped the base of his cock and pulled it free of Harry, who rocked backwards and tried to follow. Draco smacked his arse. “Duty, Potter.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Harry stood shakily and walked to the sink. He rested the tip of the marble against the faucet and pressed it upwards. The tap glowed again and seemed to absorb the stone as Harry pressed it upwards.
The candles flared and Harry almost jumped when a thunderclap rattled the windows. When he looked back, the key had been absorbed into the tap, filling the opening so its edges were flat.
The candles dimmed again and their crackling faded, and Slytherin’s mark had disappeared, so that Draco and Harry were left, once again, with only the rain to fill the space between them.
Draco cleared his throat. “Is that it?”
Harry nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Did it work?”
“Yeah.”
“Well. Good.” Draco rocked back on his heels and stood, turning away from Harry and towards the stall that held his clothes.
“Yeah.”
Draco reached for his trousers.
“Wait.”
Draco’s hand fell to his side, but he didn’t turn. “Yes?”
Harry, unable to find the right words, crossed the room, cupped Draco’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Draco kissed back fiercely and Harry pulled him back into the circle. He broke away when Harry began to tug him down. “What are you doing?”
“I –“ Harry paused. “I want you.”
“We did the ritual.”
“Yeah.”
“You said it worked.”
“Yeah. It did.”
“So?”
“Um. Test drive? Just to make sure? Or…” Harry trailed off, then squared his shoulders and kissed Draco again.
Draco was still until Harry’s tongue met his, and then his hands were on Harry’s back and in Harry’s hair, and Harry pulled him down until Draco’s weight covered him, his back arching towards Draco and away from the cold stone floor.
Harry crossed his ankles around Draco’s back, pulling him in so that he was pressed against Harry’s arse. “You’re still hard.”
“Yes.”
“Fuck me.” Harry reached between his legs to grab Draco’s cock, lining it up and stroking it slowly. “Come inside me.”
Draco kissed him urgently, grasping at the floor and rocking forward until the head of his cock slipped past the edge of Harry’s slick, open arse.
Desperate for more, Harry snapped his hips upwards to take Draco’s cock. “More,” he whispered.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” Harry hissed, slipping into Parseltongue when Draco grazed his prostate. “I want you, Draco. Want you.”
Draco slammed forward, driving into Harry with renewed force and dipping his head to Harry’s neck.
Harry arched, baring his pulse point and releasing a guttural sigh when Draco started suckling at it.
“Tell me.”
Harry nodded into his neck. “Yes, want to feel you. Fuck me. You feel so good.”
Draco jerked his hips, building up speed, and Harry writhed beneath him. “Yes, fuck, Draco. Never knew…never knew you. So sorry. Want you, want you now.”
Harry pulled Draco towards him and rolled them over, so he was straddling Draco’s hips. “Want you.”
Draco’s pupils were dilated, his breath shallow and quick.
Harry pulled away and sank down again, impaling himself until Draco’s cock ring rested against his arse. “You’re so fucking hard, Draco. You’re so fucking good.”
Draco moaned when Harry rolled his hips and flicked Draco’s nipples. He bent over to take one into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingertips and smiling when Draco buried his fingers in Harry’s hair.
Harry’s sweat-slicked chest slid against Draco’s when he moved up for another kiss. Draco moaned at the skin-to-skin contact, and again when Harry withdrew, still hissing. “So beautiful. So fucking hot, you’re so fucking…waited too long. Too long before you…fuck. Fuck me.”
Without translating, Harry began to ride him in earnest, pulling Draco up to sit facing him and twining his fingers through Draco’s hair as he bore down on the hard cock below him. “Want to take you in, want to know you, fuck, Draco.”
Draco’s pupils were almost black when his eyes met Harry’s. They both stilled.
“What are you saying?”
Harry set his arms on Draco’s shoulders in a loose embrace. “Telling you. That I want you.” He swallowed. “Tell me, now?”
“That I want you?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Oh.” Harry could feel Draco’s shoulders tighten under his arms. “I want you.”
“Yeah?”
Draco nodded and reached for Harry’s cock. “Yeah. Want you riding my cock just like this.”
“Yeah?”
“Want you spread open on your knees like you were, with your arse in the air.”
“Want that. Want you.”
“Want to suck your hole until you're open for me.”
“Open, open for you.”
“On your knees begging for it, so greedy.”
“Yes, more. More.”
Draco bucked forward, throwing Harry off balance. Draco grabbed his knees and pushed him onto his back.
The pale skin glistened in the candlelight, almost reflecting against Harry’s own when Draco slipped Harry’s legs over his shoulder. Harry canted his hips to open himself for Draco and repeated, “Yes, Draco. Open, so open for you.”
Draco was trembling when he drove back into Harry, and Harry heard the telltale clatter of metal against the floor, closely followed by Draco’s relieved moan. “Gonna come. Want to come in your arse.”
“Fuck, yes. Come for me.”
A voice emerged from Harry’s left. “Very strange, Heir of Slytherin. You close the Chamber yet would call for it to open.”
Startled, Harry’s hips crashed against Draco’s as he searched for a response. “No, not trying to open it. Just talking to someone else.”
“Another Parselmouth?”
“No,” Harry’s breath hitched as Draco plowed into him, his thrusts coming faster and more erratically. “A Wizard. Not the Chamber.”
“Very well, Heir of Slytherin. Because the Chamber cannot be opened again, can no longer hear our commands.”
“Ever?”
“Correct. You have closed the Chamber forever. Now you must go forth, and leave me to sleep.”
“Sorry to, oh!” Harry tried to steady himself as Draco began stroking him in earnest. “Wake you.”
“You are very strange, Heir of Slytherin. Do not wake me again.”
The snake seemed to shake its head before lowering it into the edgework once more.
“Sorry…won’t.”
Draco’s hand sped up, skating over the head of Harry’s cock and down to the base again until Harry was hissing and writhing, begging him to come, to let them both come.
Harry moaned when Draco’s hips stilled, when Draco’s eyelids fluttered and his breath caught. He felt Draco’s hand speed up around his shaft and then he was spilling over it, gasping Draco’s name as he came.
Draco’s softening cock slipped free when Harry relaxed back against the stone, but Draco stayed where he was, kneeling stiffly above Harry, eyes wide open.
He sat back suddenly. “Right. Job well done, Potter.”
He stood and crossed the edge of the circle, and the candles were all extinguished.
Harry saw him reach for his trousers and pull them on, fastening them quickly and reaching for his shirt.
“You don’t do things the Malfoy way anymore, do you?”
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Harry a withering glare.
Harry propped himself up on his elbows. “I mean, the way your father did them. Just giving money and things. You’re…that would’ve been hard to do if you didn’t care about…well, about the ritual. If you hadn’t got a little bit invested.”
Draco shoved one arm and then the other through his crisply starched shirt and started on the buttons.
“And you were right, you know.”
Draco snorted
“About it being pretty alright.”
Turning to face Harry, Draco raised an eyebrow.
“Good, even.”
Draco raised the other and crossed his arms.
“Alright, okay. Shag of my life, and all that.”
Harry got to his feet, trying not to be shaken by the intensity of Draco’s gaze. He bent to retrieve the open golden ring that lay on the stone tiles. “This is yours.”
Draco reached out an open palm and Harry dropped the cock ring into it. “Nifty device.”
“It’s charmed to open at the appropriate moment.”
“Ah.” Harry shifted his weight and tried to ignore his own nudity.
“Do people really leave over your…abilities?”
“Er, yeah. They…it reminds them of the war. You know. Or just freaks them out, sometimes.”
“And it always happens?”
“Um, just about. Or, not always. But always when it’s any good. And when it’s not…”
“No use in continuing on.”
“Right.”
The weight of Draco’s attention grew uncomfortable. Harry turned to retrieve his clothes. “Guess that’s it, then.”
He’d zipped his flies when he heard a cough behind him, and was halfway to cursing himself for turning around so eagerly when Draco spoke.
“Not quite it, actually.”
“No?”
“We might need to double check. To be certain it’s worked.”
“Ah.” Harry’s heart fell. “It worked.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I, uh, was saying a lot of things about…I may have inadvertently asked the Chamber to open. The snake told me the Chamber can’t hear me anymore. All plugged up.”
“Ah. Yes. That was quite an interesting shape for a key.”
“Yeah.”
“An enterprising Wizard could think of plenty of other things to do with an item like that.”
“Pretty sure it’s in there to stay.”
“Yes, well. There are others like it.”
“S’pose so.”
“There’s also…” Draco cleared his throat. “There’s also the benefit.”
“The benefit?”
“This is the last bit of the Hogwarts reconstruction effort, remember? Once we’ve confirmed a result there’s to be a celebratory fundraising gala. Add to the library, create additional scholarship funds, that sort of thing.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a nice idea.”
“Yes.”
Harry reached for his jumper.
“Potter.”
“Yeah?”
“The benefit. Are you going t?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. They haven’t sent out invitations yet, have they?”
“No, but as a member of the committee I’m sure to get one.”
Harry shrugged into his jumper. “Right, well. Guess I’ll have to wait with the rest of the non-committee members.”
“For Salazar’s sake, Harry.” Draco sighed heavily. “I was actually joking about your lack of mental acuity. Unless it takes this long for the blood to return to your brain?”
Harry tilted his head to one side, taking Draco in with some curiosity.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
Comprehension dawned, and the edges of Harry’s mouth turned up. “Say what, exactly?”
“For goodness sake. Potter, will you go to the gala with me?”
Harry’s response was interrupted by a girlish giggle and a heavy sigh.
“Soooooooooo dreamy.” Myrtle’s transparent figure floated down from ceiling.
“Myrtle?” Harry asked weakly. “Been here long?”
“Of course I have. The portraits are all a-twitter about the two handsome young gentlemen in my bathroom. And Harry, how you’ve grown!” She squealed and dove through the floor, popping up again behind Draco. “You didn’t even try to kill each other. Though,” she flitted her eyelashes at Harry, “you’re still welcome to share my toilet.”
“Thanks, Myrtle, but I’ve got to go.”
“To the ball?”
“Yes, Potter. To the ball?”
“Er, yes. I’d like that.”
“Oooooooooh!” Myrtle clapped her ghostly hands soundlessly. “Just wait till I tell that ghastly old bat. He said it would never happen, and I said, and the Fat Lady said, and Sir Cadogan said, that he was just being a mean old grouch. Not true love, he said! Hmph.”
Draco shivered as she brushed his cheek. “You look so much better that you used to. In and out of your trousers.” She removed herself and floated through the wall. “Eat his words, he will. Hmph.”
Harry coughed after a moment. “We should probably go tell Hermione and McGonagall.”
“Yes. Well. Unless Myrtle does it first, I suppose.”
Harry cracked a smile and started for the door.
* * *
The beacon of Ron’s hair was the only thing that got Harry into the Great Hall safely and he had no idea how Draco, who’d run the same gauntlet of camera flashbulbs, wasn’t also blinking like an idiot.
“How are you so composed?” Harry whispered.
“Living with Dark Lords does wonders for one’s constitution,” Draco murmured. “And I’m just following Weasley’s head.”
Ron’s head was moving swiftly towards the bar, and Harry and Draco followed gladly, grabbing two Fawley’s from the bartender and downing them quickly.
“Careful there, mate. Don’t want to give the press even more of a field day.” Ron pointed, almost covertly, at a lime green purse sitting on the other side of the bar.
Hermione piped in beside him. “They certainly are following you both closely.”
“Putting us in on the front page for the third day in a row, Granger. The development committee is hardly complaining.”
Harry smiled at that and raised his eyebrows pointedly at Hermione, who returned the smile. The owl who’d delivered his morning Prophet had practically had to fight her way out of the house to stave off the influx of love letters, hate mail, and autograph requests, and Hermione had barely talked the Hogwarts Reconstruction Committee out of sending last-minute appeals plastered with that morning’s headline: “POTTER AND MALFOY TO HEADLINE HRC GALA.”
That Harry may have told her, confidentially, that he rather liked the paired photos of he and Draco separately shopping for robes, and that the look of concerned concentration on Draco’s face had made his morning, was mostly immaterial.
Ron missed the silent exchange entirely, and plowed ahead. “Should say not. It’s a full house, right ‘Mione?”
“It is now, yes. Though it probably wouldn’t hurt if our star attractions circulated a bit.”
Harry wrinkled his nose and gestured the bartender for refills.
“Bit late to play the blushing saviour, Potter. “
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.”
“Thought you were rather looking forward to the reminder.”
Harry grinned. Draco quirked an eyebrow. Ron coughed. Loudly.
“Need a good slap to the back, Weasley?”
“Not if you’re saving them for Harry, thanks.”
“Ron!” Hermione interjected, “That’s…well. Not when there are reporters around, alright?”
Ron grinned down at her. “So you’ll want to discuss it more later, then?”
“I think we need to circulate.” Harry took Draco’s arm and waved goodbye to his friends, trying not to let his vodka splash over the sides of his glass.
He plastered a smile on his face and dragged Draco towards a circle of friendly faces lingering near the front of the Hall.
Then, with a tug of his arm, he felt himself pulled into the crowd. “Draco, what?”
“Shhhhh,” Draco hissed. “They might not have seen us.” He pulled Harry around a plump Wizard in an unusually tall hat. ”Just stay quiet and we can get to the door without –“
Draco pulled up abruptly. “Mother. Father. How good to see you.”
“Draco,” Narcissa smiled. Lucius’ curt nod avoided Harry entirely.
“Surely you remember Harry Potter.”
Lucius looked a bit like he'd been served Hippogriff droppings for breakfast. “Indeed.”
“Mister Potter,” Narcissa intoned. “It’s lovely to see you again. I trust you’ve been well?”
“Quite well, thank you. And you, Mrs. Malfoy?”
“Very well, thank you. Though not nearly as impressive as your recent contributions to the committee. We’ve heard all about your deep dedication to the rebuilding cause.”
Draco whispered “Snape” out of the corner of his mouth and Harry smiled tightly. “Yes, well. Your son was very dedicated as well. I mean – I just mean that when he and Hermione Granger brought it to my attention, its importance was obvious. It would have been irresponsible of me not to, really.”
“Always a do-gooder, weren’t you, Potter?” Lucius interjected with just the faintest hint of bitterness.
“Darling,” Narcissa soothed, “go get a drink, why don’t you? Then perhaps a turn past the portraits in the dungeons?”
Lucius nodded curtly and excused himself.
Narcissa hummed contentedly. “He’s become so adept at taking orders since Severus became a portrait.”
She smiled at Harry’s bewilderment and Draco’s appalled understanding. “Well, I’ll leave you two boys to it. Though Draco, I must say, you looked lovely on the cover of the Prophet this morning. Blue really does suit you. Now, have either of you seen Aurora? We were discussing family naming traditions last night and got so terribly off-topic. Quite rude to leave such a good story unfinished.”
Harry worked his mouth open and shut. Draco pointed towards the head table.
“Thank you, darling. Do say goodnight before you leave, would you? If I’m still here, that is.” With a polite smile, she swept towards the front of the room.
“Was that just –? Professor Sinistra? Are they –? Do they both?”
Draco nodded grimly. “Pureblood arranged marriages. Everyone’s against them, no one stops to think about what they were arranged for.”
“They—you mean to say that – for how long?”
“Since they were first engaged, Potter. Their families made the match for a reason. Though romancing portraiture is a fairly unusual choice, even for the pureblood elite.”
“Are you going to – you know?”
“Marry a rich young witch and dally with professors and portraits?”
Harry nodded.
“No, I expect not. Not doing things the Malfoy, pureblood way, remember? Even if it does have occasional benefits.”
“Benefits?”
“You didn’t seem too distraught over our exploration of archaic pureblood tradition.”
“No, I guess I wasn’t.”
“One might even say you seemed to enjoy it.”
“One might. That same one might say that you did too.”
“Yes,” Draco conceded. “I did.”
A pair of whispering ghosts floated past them, snickering into their hands.
“Seems the word is out,” Harry sighed.
“Yes. Hopefully Skeeter won’t think to interview Myrtle.”
“Oh, god.” Harry gulped. “Can you imagine?”
“Malfoy Revives Slither-In Reputation.”
Harry laughed. “Potter Potty in Hogwarts Potties.”
Draco grinned. “Parselporn takes Ghosts by Storm.”
“Malfoy: Bigger than a Basilisk?”
“Potter’s Chamber of Secrets, Revealed!”
“Heir of Slytherin Charms Slytherin Heir.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. They fell silent and surveyed the room.
“Do you know, Potter, what I find strangest of all?”
“That we’re at a banquet, together, in honor of the successful deployment of my arse and your cock in thousand-year-old magical ritual?”
“No.”
“That Hermione, Ron, your parents, the Hogwarts ghosts, the Hogwarts portraits, and most of the wizarding world know we’re here together, and no one’s tried to hex us yet?”
“Not what I had in mind.”
“That your father is getting off with a rumormongering portrait?”
“Certainly not.”
“Stranger?”
“Yes.”
“Oh?”
“I seem to be enjoying your company, though you’re neither bent over nor hissing.”
“Ah. Yes, that is strange.”
“Mmm.”
“Is it more or less strange that I’m enjoying yours as well?”
“More, surely.”
“Hmm. Any idea what’s brought this on?”
“It seems you’re tolerably well behaved and reasonably clever.”
Harry snorted and raised his glass. “Best watch your compliments. My head might explode under the influence of such effusive praise.”
“Didn’t think that’s what made your head explode.”
Harry coughed on his drink. “Thanks for that.”
“Not at all.”
Harry cleared his throat. “You know, we’ve really no idea how long this’ll go on. You liking me without the hissing and whatnot.”
“I suppose not, no.”
“So, we probably shouldn’t push it, really.”
A hungry grin crossed Draco’s face. “Think we could make it to the bathrooms and back before McGonagall’s speech?”
“While avoiding Skeeter, the photographer, Myrtle, and your parents?”
“Yes.”
“So that you can fuck me over the sinks till I’m hissing your name?”
“Quite.”
Harry grinned and took Draco’s hand. “Only one way to find out.”
Author:
dicta_contrionRating: NC-17
Word Count: 17.5k
Warning(s): (highlight for details): *mild dubcon – Harry is pressured to have sex to help Hogwarts/Hermione.*
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Hogwarts’ future depends on Malfoy’s texts. Too bad the key is up Potter’s arse.
Return to Part 1 or read the whole thing on AO3 here
There was a pinch, a groan, and a cough, and even after Harry’s eyes flew open it took him a moment to figure out where each was coming from.
The first was the easiest to discover. His neck was aching and twinged when he tried to lift his head, which was at an odd angle on an unfamiliar armrest.
Unfamiliar because it was, in fact, Draco Malfoy’s armrest. Draco lifted his head off of Harry’s chest, blinking the sleep out of his eyes and, as soon as they were open, groaned again, lifting a hand from Harry’s bare thigh to cover his face.
Then the cough came again, and they both paused at the realisation that it wasn’t coming from either one of them.
Draco, peeking between his fingers, looked towards the bar and let out a plaintive moan, flattening himself over Harry to, it seemed, try to hide behind the arm of the settee.
“Draco? What –?”
“Shhhhh, Potter,” he hissed, “don’t move, maybe he’ll go away.”
Harry followed along, though perhaps more due to the proximity of Draco’s hip to his morning wood than to any interest in obeying a Malfoy.
His erection rapidly ceased to be a problem when a terrifyingly familiar voice issued an acerbic rebuke from behind the bar.
“Hiding in the presence of Gryffindors? Really, Draco, must you fulfill only the worst parts of the Slytherin reputation?”
Harry worked his mouth open and shut helplessly and Draco, otherwise unmoving, reached a hand up to cover it.
“Your arse looks even more like your father’s than the last time you engaged in this particular sort of debauchery.” When Draco didn’t emerge, he continued. “Or is that you, Lucius? Perhaps we can reminisce a bit. Do you remember that stakeout in Manchester? Dead of winter, ‘79, was it? No heating charms allowed anywhere in the warehouse on penalty of Cruciatus, and you’d only share your fur-lined cloak if I got on my knees for it? Though,” he chuckled bitterly, and Draco cringed, “if I recall correctly, you were rather too warm to keep it on by the time I –“
“Enough!” Draco yelled, popping over the seatback and glaring fiercely. “You know perfectly well my father’s arse is neither this pert nor this firm, and I’ll thank you to keep the details to yourself.”
“Why, Draco. Good morning. Deigning to raise your head out of the upholstery to greet the peasants – how kind.”
Harry, pinned down by Draco’s legs, could practically feel the scowl, though the voice that followed was gravelly with fatigue and dehydration. “Is there a particular reason you’re gracing the parlor this morning?”
“Glover Hipworth took a turn through the Savannah last night on his way to the laboratory in the library. When I met him there he said he’d heard the unmistakable sounds of Parseltongue in this neck of the woods. I, of course, was terribly curious as to what the only living Parselmouth would be doing here. Sadly for all of us, Hipworth has good enough sense to have omitted a report of the other sounds he must have heard.”
“You were here all night?”
“Whilst I am not under the impression that portraits can lose their eyesight, it’s not the sort of claim I wish to test empirically. The single eyeful was quite enough. Though I’ll concede, Draco, that my curiosity remains. And since Potter is hardly the type to make an ungallant middle-of-the-night exit, I’d wager he’s still between your legs. Am I correct?”
With an embarrassed groan, Harry raised his hand over the back of the sofa and gave a feeble wave.
“Mister Potter. Is the rest of you here as well, or did Draco make do with your hand alone?”
“Thought you’d already know that.”
“Impertinence, Potter. I assure you, I’ve done my best to forget.”
Kicking free of Draco’s legs, Harry took a soothing breath and joined Draco in kneeling on the cushion, finding himself behind the seatback as he faced Severus Snape, backed by tall grasses and a few Baobab trees.
“Good morning, Professor.”
“I see you’ve forgotten your tie, Mr. Potter. If only the dead could take points. Or,” he drawled, “if only the living were in possession of their full faculties. Draco, what is the meaning of this? And do stopping staring at Potter’s rear end.”
Draco snapped his eyes to Snape’s portrait, and Harry couldn’t help a tiny smile at the realisation that they’d wandered. “Buggery and depravity, sir. I thought you were rather well acquainted.”
“Parseltongue, Draco? Really? A Parselmouth terrorises your home for a year and you come away with a new fetish.” Snape rolled his eyes and sighed. “Only a Malfoy.”
Harry was suddenly indignant. “You’re one to talk! Stalking around, watching other people…you know.” He trailed off, embarrassed, and tried to regroup. “And why aren’t you at Hogwarts, anyway?”
“My whereabouts are hardly your concern. Though, now that you mention, I do have other portraits to visit.” Snape turned to Draco with a tight smirk. “The one in Paris, for example. Any messages to convey to your father? Beyond the obvious, of course.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“And miss the opportunity to provoke your father’s competitive spirit? No, I think I’d best be off.”
With a swirl of his oil-painted cloak, Snape swept from the frame, and Draco sank down on the seat and let out a noise halfway between a groan and a whimper.
“Is it really that bad?” Harry asked, dropping down beside him. “Snape telling your father, I mean?”
“No, no. Lucius will hardly be surprised by the general sort of activity. The choice of partner, on the other hand. Not to mention the noble intentions behind it… well, let’s hope he never finds out about that bit.”
“Uh, isn’t he underwriting the committee?”
Draco sprawled out on the couch, resting his head on the back of the seat and giving Harry a clear view of his prick, substantial and inviting even lying soft over his bollocks.
“Up here, Potter.” Harry blushed as Draco continued. “Of course he is. What was it you said? ‘Throwing money at things and holding on to dark books’? The Malfoy way?”
“Is that what you’re doing, then?”
“Well,” Draco surveyed Harry, whose skin heated, “it’s not as though I’m not getting anything out of it.”
“S’pose not,” Harry muttered. “Do you really have a Parseltonuge thing?”
Draco stood and went in search of his trousers. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”
“I’m not.”
Draco stiffened. “Pardon?”
“I wasn’t complaining.” Harry grinned at his back. “Just curious about whether you meant it.”
“Surely that much is obvious by this point.”
Yanking on his jeans, Harry went to stand behind Draco. “Then you might be interested in what the snake had to say.”
Draco, pale and standing ramrod straight, turned to face Harry, his trousers still undone and framing a few curly, dark blond hairs against the pale skin. Harry was so entranced he had to ask him to repeat his response.
“Academically, of course.” His voice was formal and clipped and – like his arse, apparently – rather resembled Lucius’.
“Academically?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh, for – What is it, Potter?”
“The snake said it doesn’t have the plans, it has a key. And it’ll show me if I take it to the Chamber.”
“Take it to the Chamber? What do you mean, exactly?”
“The box is its home, so we have to take it there, and it said something about drawing the sign of the Heir? And honoring its ancestors? Or ours – its and mine, I mean – I guess.”
“Merlin. What did you tell it, exactly?”
“That we needed to see the plans, and when it asked why – well, I didn’t think it would be that keen on having the Chamber closed forever, so I might’ve told it that we were protecting the Basilisk bones. It made me promise to do that, and then said it’d tell me the rest once I took it there. Why? Is that a problem?”
“That’s not exactly the ritual Granger and I had researched. The sign bit, yes, but having you there, not having the plans in advance…”
“Is that a problem?”
“There’s a reason Granger and I are the only two members of the Reconstruction willing to perform the ritual. It could be a bit dangerous. The element of unpredictability only adds to that. We’d assumed it required two people, but it may be, if it has to be present, that the snake counts as one. Having a third shouldn’t be problematic, but it does raise the issue of the particular requirements involved in having you talk to the snake.”
Harry shuddered. “Don’t exactly fancy doing that in front of Hermione. What if we tried again beforehand?
“And tell the snake you won’t be keeping your promise? Does that strike you as a wise course of action?”
“No.” Harry sighed. “What if you and I did the ritual together, instead?”
“Did you miss the part about it being too dangerous for anyone else to be willing?”
“Yeah, cause I’ve never done anything dangerous near the Chamber of Secrets. Can’t possibly imagine what that would be like.”
Draco quirked his lips. “I suppose you make an uncharacteristically clever point.”
“Was that a compliment, or did the drinks get to your head?”
“The drinks, obviously.” Draco’s lips were threatening a proper smile. “It will be quite perilous, you realise.”
“You don’t say.”
“And very complicated.”
“A magical ritual designed by the original Slytherin? Never would’ve guessed.”
“And I’ll have to bugger you again, of course.”
“Noticed that bit, did you?”
“Though,” Draco frowned, “We don’t know how long it’ll take, for you to translate and for us to do what the snake tells you.”
“You might have to keep it up for quite a while. So to speak, of course. Not up to the challenge?”
“You wish, Potter. Your arse is mine.”
“We’ll see about that.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not that last night was too shabby, but you’ll have to do a fair sight better.”
“Better? That was the shag of your life.”
Harry shrugged. “Like I said, not too shabby. But a ritual in the Chamber…well. You know what my arse can do,” he grinned and advanced, “twice. Is your cock up to the challenge?”
Draco stepped forward, bringing them almost chest-to-chest. “Slytherin’s snake won’t be the only one you’re begging for more.”
“We’ll see about that. Time and place.”
“This Sunday. Half two. Hogwarts.”
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
“Mr. Potter, did you really obtain your NEWTS without learning how to cast an adequate Impervius?”
Harry grinned sheepishly at McGonagall and shook the water from his hair, missing Draco’s scowl when some of it landed on his jumper. “Sorry, Professor. You know Hermione’s always been the Charms wiz.”
“Well, come in from the rain, all of you, and never mind about the charms right now. At least Granger and Malfoy wont leave puddles as we go.”
McGonagall turned and began to lead Harry, Hermione, and Draco past the Great Hall and up the staircase. Hermione fell into step with her and began describing the ritual while Draco and Harry trailed behind, not looking at each other and refusing to acknowledge the glares of Snape’s portrait, which followed them through the final corridor.
They drew to an abrupt halt in front of Myrtle’s bathroom and Harry had to jump aside to avoid stepping on Hermione’s heel.
After a stern pause, McGongall took up again. “I believe this to be our best chance yet at closing the Chamber and securing our students’ safety. Your work is appreciated and not, I understand, without risk. While we are all eager to close the books on this era of Hogwarts’ history, it is not worthwhile if it comes with additional loss of life or limb. Merlin knows we’ve all seen quite enough of that. If things take a wrong turn, you are to stop immediately. Am I understood?”
They nodded.
“Excellent. Quidditch begins in fifteen minutes and will minimise the possibility of unwelcome student interruptions. The game may take some time in weather like this – hopefully Bellweather will keep his head on straight regardless, that child… In any event, Miss Granger will cast all the necessary repelling charms just in case. Malfoy, Potter, you are to send me a Patronus immediately at the first sign of anything unexpected. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a game to attend. Best of luck to you all.’
The tension that built between Harry and Draco at McGonagall’s departure was interrupted by a thunderclap. They all jumped, and Hermione picked up where the headmistress had left off, casting several charms and turning to them. “Right then. We’ve reviewed the ritual and established as many safety precautions as possible. I’ll be in the library and have spare supplies if you need anything.” She patted a well-worn beaded bag. “If you need to send a Patronus to McGonagall, you’d better send one to me, too. Though at this point, nothing should go wrong. We’ve run through all the possibilities, and –“
“Yes, Granger, we have. We’ve got charts and supplies and the box and one happily willing Parselmouth. We’re as well prepared as Ravenclaws on the eve of an exam.”
Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, but Harry interrupted. “Really. We’ll be fine.”
“Promise you’ll let me know the second anything strange happens? Or, unusually strange, anyway?”
Harry laughed. “Yes. Promise.”
“And you’re okay to…you know.”
Nothing helped Harry suppress a blush like Draco’s rolled eyes. “Yeah, ‘Mione. It’s fine.”
“Alright then. Do try not to destroy anything, would you?”
Harry nodded and hugged her, gently guiding her away from the bathroom in the process. “Not if we can help it, promise. And we’ll come find you as soon as it’s done.”
“Alright. Be careful. Both of you.”
Draco returned her nod, and then she was off, leaving the two of them in the middle of the hallway.
As soon as she was out of sight, Harry turned and strode into the bathroom. He poked his head around the doorway when Draco didn’t follow, only to be met with a teasing smirk. “Who’s eager now?”
With an exaggerated sigh, Harry grabbed Draco’s robes and yanked him inside, leaning back against the stone wall and pulling him into a kiss.
Harry felt something hard and heavy press against his hip and rolled up against it.
He was panting heavily by the time Draco pulled away, grinning. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, Potter, but that’s a ritual candle you’re humping.” He laughed, breathy and low, at Harry’s confusion. “I do appreciate the enthusiasm, but perhaps you’d best save it for the ritual.”
“Oh. Right.” Harry carded his hair. “What’s next, then?”
Draco drew his wand and marked a giant, shimmering “S” on the floor, with one end at their feet and the other a few feet from the pipes under the sinks. He set a ring of unlit green pillar candles around the symbol, wide enough so that the last two sat to either side of the non-functioning tap.
Finally, he took the box out of his robes, laid it on the floor at the edge of the symbol closest to the sinks, and turned back to Harry.
“That’s all we’ve been able to discern from what we’ve gotten so far. Now you strip, I fuck you, and we hope the snake tells us the rest.”
“We just…go to it?”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. “I’d ask if you need a diagram, but Granger did actually draw you one.”
“And I did actually read it. So sorry for double-checking,” Harry scoffed. “Can’t imagine why I’d want to make sure there aren’t any extra steps in the dark ritual.”
Turning towards the taps and away from Harry, Draco huffed, “Yes, it’s entirely likely that either Granger or I left something out just for fun. Since this isn’t especially important to either of us.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Rain against the windows filled the silence between them.
“Really, I didn’t. I’m nervous, alright? But it’s not that I don’t trust you or anything like that.”
“Fine.”
“Really. Do you think I’d be here if I thought you were up to something?”
Draco’s posture softened, though he didn’t turn to face Harry. “Self-preservation has never been your strong suit.”
“I’ve only died twice.”
“But thrice would be a bridge too far?”
“Exactly.” Harry crossed the room and put a hand on Draco’s arm. “Draco, come on. “ When Draco didn’t turn, he continued. “Unless you’re not actually up for the challenge. In which case, I’ve brought you a present from the Muggle world.”
Harry pulled a silicone ring from his pocket and slipped it into Draco’s hand.
Draco rolled it between his fingers, but still didn’t turn.
“Are you not going to talk to me at all? Shall we leave the room and start over?”
After another’s moment’s pause, Harry started heading for the door.
“Wait.” Draco turned. “You can’t leave the circle now you’ve entered it.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Are you sure you read the diagram?”
“Yes,” Harry retorted, then paused. “I might’ve gotten a bit distracted just then, is all.”
“You’re not even naked yet.”
“Well, you were just standing there not saying anything. It’s a bit unnerving, you know.”
“Yes, well. It’s not every day the boy wonder confides his trust.” Draco rushed on when Harry smiled. “Or when I’m presented with some ridiculous Muggle – I’m assuming this is a sex toy?”
“You’ve never seen one?”
“Not made of this ridiculous material. Please,” Draco threw it to Harry and dipped a hand into the pocket of his robes to retrieve a broad, ridged gold band. “Wizarding toys, Potter. You’ve never seen one?”
Harry licked his lips. “How’re you going to get that on, exactly?”
“Who said I was going to?”
“You mean,” Harry looked down, “me?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “No, no. As you so kindly pointed out last time, this ritual may require exceptional endurance. And, well. Your arse is rather tight. And it’s necessary to take all due precautions.” Harry looked at him, brow furrowed. “Oh, never mind. I’ll put it on myself.”
“Oh!” Harry’s eyes lit and he grabbed the ring from Draco’s hand. “No need. I – sorry, bit slow.”
“That’s not exactly news.”
“Though…if I’m going to put it on you, you’ll have to take off your robes.”
Draco sighed, “Yes, Potter. Have you already forgotten that I told you to strip?”
“Just…strip?”
“So that it doesn’t get in the way of the ritual if we stop to take clothes off later.”
“We? So, you’re going to, too?”
In response, Draco unhooked the clasp on his robes and levitated them to a hook inside one of the stalls. “Make sure everything lands outside of the circle.”
Draco moved to the buttons of his waistcoat and Harry slipped the ring over his thumb to tug at his trainers, stuffing them with his socks and tossing them clear of the candles.
His jumper followed, and then Harry stripped off his jeans and pants in one go, almost stumbling over the waistband and hoping Draco hadn’t noticed. He balled it all up and aimed for a far corner, grinning when he made it.
Harry was naked, with a gold cock ring in one hand and his wand in the other, before he realised that Draco, whose shoes had just landed side by side under his robe and shirt, was still half dressed.
Draco’s fingers moved to his waistband and he flicked the top button free, then the next, and the next, and Harry’s eyes widened ever so slightly as Draco pushed the fabric over the rise of his hipbones, stepped out of his trousers, and levitated them to rest over the stall door.
Draco’s cock was half hard, head just slipping free of his foreskin, nestled in a bed of curls that descended from Draco’s abdomen, and Harry startled when Draco interrupted his attempt to memorise the image.
“Well, Potter?” Draco nodded at Harry’s hand.
“Right! Right.” Harry took a step forward, looked into Draco’s eyes, and grinned. “So, if we diverge from the ritual a little…”
“Diverge?”
“If, for instance, I put this on you with my mouth.”
Draco swallowed. “Probably not a good idea. Too much of a risk to go off-plan.”
“Too bad.”
“Rather.”
“Rain check?”
“Mmm.”
“Then why don’t you let me watch instead? Avoid the temptation to diverge.”
Draco took it from Harry and slid it over the head of his cock. Harry was hypnotized as Draco slipped it towards his pelvis, his cock and bollocks standing even further from his body as he settled the ring around them and exhaled. “Right, then.”
“Right. So.” Harry tore his eyes away. “The ritual.”
“Yes. The ritual.” Composing himself, Draco shook his head and blinked. “We need to bisect Slytherin’s mark. Usually you’d stand on the center of it and face the sinks, but there are two of us. You still need to face the sinks, but may not want to stay standing the whole time, so it’s best if you’d kneel, facing the sinks.”
“Just, right there?”
“Yeah.”
Harry turned and walked to centre of the circle and, with a last grin over his shoulders, dropped to all fours and spread his legs. “What next?”
Draco came to kneel behind him, running a hand down his back and coming to rest at his hip. “The snake tells us the rest.”
Harry was about to respond when he felt warm lips on his back, kissing a trail down his spine and to the small of his back. He arched into Draco’s mouth and whimpered when the tip of Draco’s tongue traced a path towards his arsehole.
“What are you doing?” Harry whispered.
“You asked if I was up to the challenge,” Draco hummed, lifting his head while dragging his nails down Harry’s back. “A Malfoy is always prepared.”
Harry gasped as Draco’s tongue slid towards its quarry, as Draco ran it around the rim of his hole and then slid over it. Fingernails raked down his back again, and he gasped and keened when the trail ended in a hard slap against his arse. And then Draco was lapping at him, and Harry’s arsehole clenched in an effort to pull him in deeper.
“Patience, Potter.” Harry could feel the smirk in his voice and tried to hold still.
He gave up and started grinding against his face when Draco worked his tongue inside of Harry. Draco purred contentedly, and the vibrations sent Harry reeling.
He choked back a moan when Draco’s hand wrapped around his cock and struck up a slow rhythm, bucking his hips forward instead, jerking into Draco’s fist.
Then Draco pulled away and Harry whimpered, bereft, stopping only when he felt the head of Draco’s cock press against him, and Draco’s body fold over his owns. “Ready?”
“Yes,” Harry panted.
Draco’s free hand slid up Harry’s side. “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”
“Yes, Merlin, yes.”
“Are you going to talk to the snake for me?”
Harry nodded furiously.
He heard Draco murmur a charm, and could feel warm wetness dripping from his hole. “You’re gonna be so tight, aren’t you?”
Harry rolled his hips against Draco, searching for the head of his cock.
“Is this what you’re looking for?” Draco slid his cock into the crevice of Harry’s arse. “D’you want me to fuck you?”
Harry nodded again.
“Say it.”
“Fuck me. Please, Draco.”
“Merlin,” Draco breathed, and Harry felt the head of Draco’s cock come to rest against his hole.
“Want you. I want you.”
“Do you?” Draco had stopped.
Harry sat onto his knees, stretching around to find Draco staring at him. He looked a bit more contemplative than Harry was used to at this particular point in the proceedings and, Harry thought, a bit lost.
He took in Draco’s furrowed brow, the tightness in his shoulders, the way his bottom lip was stretched between his teeth, and he grabbed Draco’s head and pulled him into a searing kiss.
He didn’t relent until he felt Draco relax, felt his shoulders fall back and his hips push forward. Until Draco’s nipples were hard between his fingertips and Draco was breathing raggedly into his mouth. “Of course I do, you fucking arsehole.” He pulled away, looking Draco in the eye. “Fuck me, would you?”
Draco nodded, still short of breath, and pulled Harry into another kiss. Harry moaned into his mouth and returned it, pulling away only to nip at Draco’s ear and whisper “I want you, Draco.”
Draco closed his eyes and drew a deep, ragged breath, followed by a smooth exhale.
When he opened them again, Draco’s were filled with a sort of steely determination that Harry hadn’t seen in an age. Draco leaned forward as though to whisper some encouragement in Harry’s ear. Harry’s breath caught when Draco licked his way up Harry’s neck instead, not pausing until he was rolling Harry’s earlobe between his teeth.
Then he was grasping Harry’s shoulders and pushing him down onto all fours again, and his cock was at Harry’s hole, and he was sliding inside, and the burning heat, the fullness of it, the desperate sob that came from Draco’s chest sent Harry’s head spinning.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Harry groaned his agreement. “I want to hear you talk.”
Harry forced his eyes open and tried to focus. Draco’s cock was fuller and larger than the last time, and he was rolling his hips so that it brushed Harry’s prostate on each stroke, so that Harry wasn’t sure whether lightning or Draco was responsible for his flickering vision. He stared at the snake and felt the world slipping away. He let his mouth fall open, his gasps coming in time with Draco’s strokes, and then words began to issue from his lips.
“Snake of Slytherin, I call to you.”
Draco’s fingernails dug into his hips.
“Oh, mighty snake, I have brought you to honour our ancestors. Awaken and instruct me.”
The snake began to uncoil and lifted its head to stare at Harry. “You return, Heir of our father. Have you brought me to the bones of our brethren?”
“Yes, great snake. I have done as I promised. Please, will you show me how to protect the bones from those who seek to disturb them?”
Draco drove into him, seating himself so deeply that Harry could feel the cool metal of the top of his cock ring against his arse.
“I will do this, yes.”
“What must I do, great snake?”
The candles around them flared to life, bathing the room in soft, flickering light. The snake raised its head, slithering towards Harry and flicking its tongue to taste the air.
“The Chamber behind me. You must open it.”
“And then?”
“We will say goodbye and I will show you the key.”
Harry nodded. “Draco?”
“Yeah?” Draco’s breaths came in short gasps.
“I’m going to open it, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Draco?”
“Yeah?”
“You feel really fucking good.”
Draco grunted and bucked his hips so that he was buried entirely in Harry, who opened his knees even wider to take it.
Swallowing, Harry tried to focus his attention on the sink. “Open,” he hissed.
A white light emanated from the tap and it began to twirl until it was spinning so quickly as to be a glowing blur. Porcelain scraped stone as the basin began to sink. It disappeared, leaving behind a wide, metallic opening. The entrance to the Chamber.
Draco stilled for a moment. “Is that it?”
Harry nodded. “Don’t stop now.”
Draco’s bent forward and gripped Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t stop, yourself.”
Grinning, Harry nodded and shoved himself back onto Draco, rocking back to encourage a rhythm. “No chance.”
“Heir of Slytherin, you speak the language of Wizards.”
“Sorry, er. Sorry, great snake. I have opened the Chamber. Will you reveal your key?”
“First, we honour our ancestors.”
“Right.” Harry grunted as Draco thrust forward with renewed force. “How?”
The snake began to slither towards Harry, breaking free of the box entirely when its head reached Harry’s shoulder. It coiled around his arm and hovered by his ear. “We must mourn it. We must tell it of our sorrow at its death.”
“Will you, oh! ” Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he suppressed a moan as Draco shoved into him fast and hard. “Show me how?”
The snake turned to the faucet and hissed, low and quickly, too fast and quiet for Harry to make it out, then turned to him. “You must tell it your sorrows, your regrets.”
“My regrets?” Harry stilled and Draco followed suit.
“Alright?”
“Yeah. Just…yeah.”
“Heir of Slytherin, speak now.”
Harry took a deep breath and continued. “Oh, Snake of Slytherin. I come to mourn your past. I’m sorry you were not allowed to grow freely. I’m sorry you were made to hurt, to kill. I’m sorry your light is a secret to so many. I’m sorry that you were consigned to the dark by those who doubt your goodness.” The words flew from his mouth, accelerating as he went on as though urged forth by something outside of him “I am sorry I could not care for you. I’m sorry I never knew you. I’m sorry I did not find you in your youth.” Harry’s chest heaved as he fought for breath, his eyes beginning to burn. “I am sorry that I could not save you when it mattered. We were young and afraid, but I know now that you were so much more. Snake of Slytherin, forgive me.”
The snake, its eyes closed and tongue flickering, brushed Harry’s face. “You are salty, Heir. You mourn our brethren with honour.”
“I do,” Harry whispered. “And seek to honour his life in mine.”
“Then I shall show you my key.”
The snake began to move towards its box, its body blending with the dark wood.
Harry felt Draco’s fingers against his shoulder. “Is it working?”
Harry half laughed, half sobbed. “You could say that.”
The snake sank its fangs into the edge of the box and it slid open to reveal a short, oblong, piece of rounded marble, maybe three inches long and two inches around.
“Take my key, Heir of Slytherin.”
Harry balanced himself on one arm as Draco slowed to aid his stability. He lifted it out of the box and it glinted in the candlelight.
“This is the key?”
“Harry, is that a –?”
“This is the key. You must close the Chamber and seal the opening.”
“No,” Harry panted. “Looks like it though. It’s the key. Gotta close the…fuck. Slow, yeah?”
Draco doubled over, and Harry could feel him nod against his back.
“You hold the key to the Chamber. Close it now.”
“Close!” Harry shouted, and the basin began to re-emerge, and the tap spun back into existence.
“Now you must fill the entrance.”
“Fill…yes, fill it.” Harry paused, and Draco’s thrust grew slower and shallower behind him. “If I stand, I may not be able to speak to you any longer.”
“There is no more to say, Heir of Slytherin. Close the door, protect our ancestor, do honor to great Slytherin. Will you do these things?”
“Yes,” Harry promised.
“Stand, then, and go forth.”
The snake bit into the box again and the lid slid closed. It slithered into the border and took up its position across the top again.
“Stop for a second.”
Draco froze. “Stop? Is that –?”
“I have to fill the thing.”
“Ah. Right.” Draco gripped the base of his cock and pulled it free of Harry, who rocked backwards and tried to follow. Draco smacked his arse. “Duty, Potter.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Harry stood shakily and walked to the sink. He rested the tip of the marble against the faucet and pressed it upwards. The tap glowed again and seemed to absorb the stone as Harry pressed it upwards.
The candles flared and Harry almost jumped when a thunderclap rattled the windows. When he looked back, the key had been absorbed into the tap, filling the opening so its edges were flat.
The candles dimmed again and their crackling faded, and Slytherin’s mark had disappeared, so that Draco and Harry were left, once again, with only the rain to fill the space between them.
Draco cleared his throat. “Is that it?”
Harry nodded slowly. “Yeah.”
“Did it work?”
“Yeah.”
“Well. Good.” Draco rocked back on his heels and stood, turning away from Harry and towards the stall that held his clothes.
“Yeah.”
Draco reached for his trousers.
“Wait.”
Draco’s hand fell to his side, but he didn’t turn. “Yes?”
Harry, unable to find the right words, crossed the room, cupped Draco’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Draco kissed back fiercely and Harry pulled him back into the circle. He broke away when Harry began to tug him down. “What are you doing?”
“I –“ Harry paused. “I want you.”
“We did the ritual.”
“Yeah.”
“You said it worked.”
“Yeah. It did.”
“So?”
“Um. Test drive? Just to make sure? Or…” Harry trailed off, then squared his shoulders and kissed Draco again.
Draco was still until Harry’s tongue met his, and then his hands were on Harry’s back and in Harry’s hair, and Harry pulled him down until Draco’s weight covered him, his back arching towards Draco and away from the cold stone floor.
Harry crossed his ankles around Draco’s back, pulling him in so that he was pressed against Harry’s arse. “You’re still hard.”
“Yes.”
“Fuck me.” Harry reached between his legs to grab Draco’s cock, lining it up and stroking it slowly. “Come inside me.”
Draco kissed him urgently, grasping at the floor and rocking forward until the head of his cock slipped past the edge of Harry’s slick, open arse.
Desperate for more, Harry snapped his hips upwards to take Draco’s cock. “More,” he whispered.
“You sure?”
“Yes,” Harry hissed, slipping into Parseltongue when Draco grazed his prostate. “I want you, Draco. Want you.”
Draco slammed forward, driving into Harry with renewed force and dipping his head to Harry’s neck.
Harry arched, baring his pulse point and releasing a guttural sigh when Draco started suckling at it.
“Tell me.”
Harry nodded into his neck. “Yes, want to feel you. Fuck me. You feel so good.”
Draco jerked his hips, building up speed, and Harry writhed beneath him. “Yes, fuck, Draco. Never knew…never knew you. So sorry. Want you, want you now.”
Harry pulled Draco towards him and rolled them over, so he was straddling Draco’s hips. “Want you.”
Draco’s pupils were dilated, his breath shallow and quick.
Harry pulled away and sank down again, impaling himself until Draco’s cock ring rested against his arse. “You’re so fucking hard, Draco. You’re so fucking good.”
Draco moaned when Harry rolled his hips and flicked Draco’s nipples. He bent over to take one into his mouth, rolling the other between his fingertips and smiling when Draco buried his fingers in Harry’s hair.
Harry’s sweat-slicked chest slid against Draco’s when he moved up for another kiss. Draco moaned at the skin-to-skin contact, and again when Harry withdrew, still hissing. “So beautiful. So fucking hot, you’re so fucking…waited too long. Too long before you…fuck. Fuck me.”
Without translating, Harry began to ride him in earnest, pulling Draco up to sit facing him and twining his fingers through Draco’s hair as he bore down on the hard cock below him. “Want to take you in, want to know you, fuck, Draco.”
Draco’s pupils were almost black when his eyes met Harry’s. They both stilled.
“What are you saying?”
Harry set his arms on Draco’s shoulders in a loose embrace. “Telling you. That I want you.” He swallowed. “Tell me, now?”
“That I want you?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Oh.” Harry could feel Draco’s shoulders tighten under his arms. “I want you.”
“Yeah?”
Draco nodded and reached for Harry’s cock. “Yeah. Want you riding my cock just like this.”
“Yeah?”
“Want you spread open on your knees like you were, with your arse in the air.”
“Want that. Want you.”
“Want to suck your hole until you're open for me.”
“Open, open for you.”
“On your knees begging for it, so greedy.”
“Yes, more. More.”
Draco bucked forward, throwing Harry off balance. Draco grabbed his knees and pushed him onto his back.
The pale skin glistened in the candlelight, almost reflecting against Harry’s own when Draco slipped Harry’s legs over his shoulder. Harry canted his hips to open himself for Draco and repeated, “Yes, Draco. Open, so open for you.”
Draco was trembling when he drove back into Harry, and Harry heard the telltale clatter of metal against the floor, closely followed by Draco’s relieved moan. “Gonna come. Want to come in your arse.”
“Fuck, yes. Come for me.”
A voice emerged from Harry’s left. “Very strange, Heir of Slytherin. You close the Chamber yet would call for it to open.”
Startled, Harry’s hips crashed against Draco’s as he searched for a response. “No, not trying to open it. Just talking to someone else.”
“Another Parselmouth?”
“No,” Harry’s breath hitched as Draco plowed into him, his thrusts coming faster and more erratically. “A Wizard. Not the Chamber.”
“Very well, Heir of Slytherin. Because the Chamber cannot be opened again, can no longer hear our commands.”
“Ever?”
“Correct. You have closed the Chamber forever. Now you must go forth, and leave me to sleep.”
“Sorry to, oh!” Harry tried to steady himself as Draco began stroking him in earnest. “Wake you.”
“You are very strange, Heir of Slytherin. Do not wake me again.”
The snake seemed to shake its head before lowering it into the edgework once more.
“Sorry…won’t.”
Draco’s hand sped up, skating over the head of Harry’s cock and down to the base again until Harry was hissing and writhing, begging him to come, to let them both come.
Harry moaned when Draco’s hips stilled, when Draco’s eyelids fluttered and his breath caught. He felt Draco’s hand speed up around his shaft and then he was spilling over it, gasping Draco’s name as he came.
Draco’s softening cock slipped free when Harry relaxed back against the stone, but Draco stayed where he was, kneeling stiffly above Harry, eyes wide open.
He sat back suddenly. “Right. Job well done, Potter.”
He stood and crossed the edge of the circle, and the candles were all extinguished.
Harry saw him reach for his trousers and pull them on, fastening them quickly and reaching for his shirt.
“You don’t do things the Malfoy way anymore, do you?”
Draco looked over his shoulder and gave Harry a withering glare.
Harry propped himself up on his elbows. “I mean, the way your father did them. Just giving money and things. You’re…that would’ve been hard to do if you didn’t care about…well, about the ritual. If you hadn’t got a little bit invested.”
Draco shoved one arm and then the other through his crisply starched shirt and started on the buttons.
“And you were right, you know.”
Draco snorted
“About it being pretty alright.”
Turning to face Harry, Draco raised an eyebrow.
“Good, even.”
Draco raised the other and crossed his arms.
“Alright, okay. Shag of my life, and all that.”
Harry got to his feet, trying not to be shaken by the intensity of Draco’s gaze. He bent to retrieve the open golden ring that lay on the stone tiles. “This is yours.”
Draco reached out an open palm and Harry dropped the cock ring into it. “Nifty device.”
“It’s charmed to open at the appropriate moment.”
“Ah.” Harry shifted his weight and tried to ignore his own nudity.
“Do people really leave over your…abilities?”
“Er, yeah. They…it reminds them of the war. You know. Or just freaks them out, sometimes.”
“And it always happens?”
“Um, just about. Or, not always. But always when it’s any good. And when it’s not…”
“No use in continuing on.”
“Right.”
The weight of Draco’s attention grew uncomfortable. Harry turned to retrieve his clothes. “Guess that’s it, then.”
He’d zipped his flies when he heard a cough behind him, and was halfway to cursing himself for turning around so eagerly when Draco spoke.
“Not quite it, actually.”
“No?”
“We might need to double check. To be certain it’s worked.”
“Ah.” Harry’s heart fell. “It worked.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I, uh, was saying a lot of things about…I may have inadvertently asked the Chamber to open. The snake told me the Chamber can’t hear me anymore. All plugged up.”
“Ah. Yes. That was quite an interesting shape for a key.”
“Yeah.”
“An enterprising Wizard could think of plenty of other things to do with an item like that.”
“Pretty sure it’s in there to stay.”
“Yes, well. There are others like it.”
“S’pose so.”
“There’s also…” Draco cleared his throat. “There’s also the benefit.”
“The benefit?”
“This is the last bit of the Hogwarts reconstruction effort, remember? Once we’ve confirmed a result there’s to be a celebratory fundraising gala. Add to the library, create additional scholarship funds, that sort of thing.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a nice idea.”
“Yes.”
Harry reached for his jumper.
“Potter.”
“Yeah?”
“The benefit. Are you going t?”
“Oh, uh, I don’t know. They haven’t sent out invitations yet, have they?”
“No, but as a member of the committee I’m sure to get one.”
Harry shrugged into his jumper. “Right, well. Guess I’ll have to wait with the rest of the non-committee members.”
“For Salazar’s sake, Harry.” Draco sighed heavily. “I was actually joking about your lack of mental acuity. Unless it takes this long for the blood to return to your brain?”
Harry tilted his head to one side, taking Draco in with some curiosity.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
Comprehension dawned, and the edges of Harry’s mouth turned up. “Say what, exactly?”
“For goodness sake. Potter, will you go to the gala with me?”
Harry’s response was interrupted by a girlish giggle and a heavy sigh.
“Soooooooooo dreamy.” Myrtle’s transparent figure floated down from ceiling.
“Myrtle?” Harry asked weakly. “Been here long?”
“Of course I have. The portraits are all a-twitter about the two handsome young gentlemen in my bathroom. And Harry, how you’ve grown!” She squealed and dove through the floor, popping up again behind Draco. “You didn’t even try to kill each other. Though,” she flitted her eyelashes at Harry, “you’re still welcome to share my toilet.”
“Thanks, Myrtle, but I’ve got to go.”
“To the ball?”
“Yes, Potter. To the ball?”
“Er, yes. I’d like that.”
“Oooooooooh!” Myrtle clapped her ghostly hands soundlessly. “Just wait till I tell that ghastly old bat. He said it would never happen, and I said, and the Fat Lady said, and Sir Cadogan said, that he was just being a mean old grouch. Not true love, he said! Hmph.”
Draco shivered as she brushed his cheek. “You look so much better that you used to. In and out of your trousers.” She removed herself and floated through the wall. “Eat his words, he will. Hmph.”
Harry coughed after a moment. “We should probably go tell Hermione and McGonagall.”
“Yes. Well. Unless Myrtle does it first, I suppose.”
Harry cracked a smile and started for the door.
* * *
The beacon of Ron’s hair was the only thing that got Harry into the Great Hall safely and he had no idea how Draco, who’d run the same gauntlet of camera flashbulbs, wasn’t also blinking like an idiot.
“How are you so composed?” Harry whispered.
“Living with Dark Lords does wonders for one’s constitution,” Draco murmured. “And I’m just following Weasley’s head.”
Ron’s head was moving swiftly towards the bar, and Harry and Draco followed gladly, grabbing two Fawley’s from the bartender and downing them quickly.
“Careful there, mate. Don’t want to give the press even more of a field day.” Ron pointed, almost covertly, at a lime green purse sitting on the other side of the bar.
Hermione piped in beside him. “They certainly are following you both closely.”
“Putting us in on the front page for the third day in a row, Granger. The development committee is hardly complaining.”
Harry smiled at that and raised his eyebrows pointedly at Hermione, who returned the smile. The owl who’d delivered his morning Prophet had practically had to fight her way out of the house to stave off the influx of love letters, hate mail, and autograph requests, and Hermione had barely talked the Hogwarts Reconstruction Committee out of sending last-minute appeals plastered with that morning’s headline: “POTTER AND MALFOY TO HEADLINE HRC GALA.”
That Harry may have told her, confidentially, that he rather liked the paired photos of he and Draco separately shopping for robes, and that the look of concerned concentration on Draco’s face had made his morning, was mostly immaterial.
Ron missed the silent exchange entirely, and plowed ahead. “Should say not. It’s a full house, right ‘Mione?”
“It is now, yes. Though it probably wouldn’t hurt if our star attractions circulated a bit.”
Harry wrinkled his nose and gestured the bartender for refills.
“Bit late to play the blushing saviour, Potter. “
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.”
“Thought you were rather looking forward to the reminder.”
Harry grinned. Draco quirked an eyebrow. Ron coughed. Loudly.
“Need a good slap to the back, Weasley?”
“Not if you’re saving them for Harry, thanks.”
“Ron!” Hermione interjected, “That’s…well. Not when there are reporters around, alright?”
Ron grinned down at her. “So you’ll want to discuss it more later, then?”
“I think we need to circulate.” Harry took Draco’s arm and waved goodbye to his friends, trying not to let his vodka splash over the sides of his glass.
He plastered a smile on his face and dragged Draco towards a circle of friendly faces lingering near the front of the Hall.
Then, with a tug of his arm, he felt himself pulled into the crowd. “Draco, what?”
“Shhhhh,” Draco hissed. “They might not have seen us.” He pulled Harry around a plump Wizard in an unusually tall hat. ”Just stay quiet and we can get to the door without –“
Draco pulled up abruptly. “Mother. Father. How good to see you.”
“Draco,” Narcissa smiled. Lucius’ curt nod avoided Harry entirely.
“Surely you remember Harry Potter.”
Lucius looked a bit like he'd been served Hippogriff droppings for breakfast. “Indeed.”
“Mister Potter,” Narcissa intoned. “It’s lovely to see you again. I trust you’ve been well?”
“Quite well, thank you. And you, Mrs. Malfoy?”
“Very well, thank you. Though not nearly as impressive as your recent contributions to the committee. We’ve heard all about your deep dedication to the rebuilding cause.”
Draco whispered “Snape” out of the corner of his mouth and Harry smiled tightly. “Yes, well. Your son was very dedicated as well. I mean – I just mean that when he and Hermione Granger brought it to my attention, its importance was obvious. It would have been irresponsible of me not to, really.”
“Always a do-gooder, weren’t you, Potter?” Lucius interjected with just the faintest hint of bitterness.
“Darling,” Narcissa soothed, “go get a drink, why don’t you? Then perhaps a turn past the portraits in the dungeons?”
Lucius nodded curtly and excused himself.
Narcissa hummed contentedly. “He’s become so adept at taking orders since Severus became a portrait.”
She smiled at Harry’s bewilderment and Draco’s appalled understanding. “Well, I’ll leave you two boys to it. Though Draco, I must say, you looked lovely on the cover of the Prophet this morning. Blue really does suit you. Now, have either of you seen Aurora? We were discussing family naming traditions last night and got so terribly off-topic. Quite rude to leave such a good story unfinished.”
Harry worked his mouth open and shut. Draco pointed towards the head table.
“Thank you, darling. Do say goodnight before you leave, would you? If I’m still here, that is.” With a polite smile, she swept towards the front of the room.
“Was that just –? Professor Sinistra? Are they –? Do they both?”
Draco nodded grimly. “Pureblood arranged marriages. Everyone’s against them, no one stops to think about what they were arranged for.”
“They—you mean to say that – for how long?”
“Since they were first engaged, Potter. Their families made the match for a reason. Though romancing portraiture is a fairly unusual choice, even for the pureblood elite.”
“Are you going to – you know?”
“Marry a rich young witch and dally with professors and portraits?”
Harry nodded.
“No, I expect not. Not doing things the Malfoy, pureblood way, remember? Even if it does have occasional benefits.”
“Benefits?”
“You didn’t seem too distraught over our exploration of archaic pureblood tradition.”
“No, I guess I wasn’t.”
“One might even say you seemed to enjoy it.”
“One might. That same one might say that you did too.”
“Yes,” Draco conceded. “I did.”
A pair of whispering ghosts floated past them, snickering into their hands.
“Seems the word is out,” Harry sighed.
“Yes. Hopefully Skeeter won’t think to interview Myrtle.”
“Oh, god.” Harry gulped. “Can you imagine?”
“Malfoy Revives Slither-In Reputation.”
Harry laughed. “Potter Potty in Hogwarts Potties.”
Draco grinned. “Parselporn takes Ghosts by Storm.”
“Malfoy: Bigger than a Basilisk?”
“Potter’s Chamber of Secrets, Revealed!”
“Heir of Slytherin Charms Slytherin Heir.”
Draco quirked an eyebrow. They fell silent and surveyed the room.
“Do you know, Potter, what I find strangest of all?”
“That we’re at a banquet, together, in honor of the successful deployment of my arse and your cock in thousand-year-old magical ritual?”
“No.”
“That Hermione, Ron, your parents, the Hogwarts ghosts, the Hogwarts portraits, and most of the wizarding world know we’re here together, and no one’s tried to hex us yet?”
“Not what I had in mind.”
“That your father is getting off with a rumormongering portrait?”
“Certainly not.”
“Stranger?”
“Yes.”
“Oh?”
“I seem to be enjoying your company, though you’re neither bent over nor hissing.”
“Ah. Yes, that is strange.”
“Mmm.”
“Is it more or less strange that I’m enjoying yours as well?”
“More, surely.”
“Hmm. Any idea what’s brought this on?”
“It seems you’re tolerably well behaved and reasonably clever.”
Harry snorted and raised his glass. “Best watch your compliments. My head might explode under the influence of such effusive praise.”
“Didn’t think that’s what made your head explode.”
Harry coughed on his drink. “Thanks for that.”
“Not at all.”
Harry cleared his throat. “You know, we’ve really no idea how long this’ll go on. You liking me without the hissing and whatnot.”
“I suppose not, no.”
“So, we probably shouldn’t push it, really.”
A hungry grin crossed Draco’s face. “Think we could make it to the bathrooms and back before McGonagall’s speech?”
“While avoiding Skeeter, the photographer, Myrtle, and your parents?”
“Yes.”
“So that you can fuck me over the sinks till I’m hissing your name?”
“Quite.”
Harry grinned and took Draco’s hand. “Only one way to find out.”