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Jun. 2nd, 2006 02:28 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nicevennTitle: Harry Potter and the Lost Grimoire 6 /?
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,455
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yura_slash
Summary: Harry attends a post-Hogwarts University where Draco Malfoy is his roommate, and secrets of an ancient evil threatening to resurface lurk within the castle walls.
Over the next couple of weeks, study sessions with Draco had become the norm. For Harry, they were an excuse to be close to Draco, to become lost in the sound of his voice and the intricacy of his scent: tangerines and green tea with just a hint of rosemary. He even noticed that despite Draco’s feigned annoyance, the blond enjoyed having someone to talk to, even if their conversations were usually limited to what they were doing in Potions or Magical Gemology. Harry would have liked to have an excuse to study for other classes with Draco—his scent really was intoxicating—but Draco knew that Hermione could help him in Runic spells, and he didn’t need help in DADA because he was the best in class.
These study get-togethers were, however, still too formal for Harry’s liking. He wanted to get to know the real Draco, not just the blossoming Potions professor. But Draco was hesitant to talk about himself or about anything not having to do with a class they had together. Harry hoped that this reluctance to talk openly was a result of their past animosity, and that it would soon pass.
One Friday night, despite Draco’s tentativeness in developing a friendship, Harry could not resist inviting him to go flying. Trials for the last remaining Quidditch team, the Manticores, were to be held the following morning, and Harry was determined to convince Draco to try out.
Now, after dragging Draco out to the pitch, Harry was circling the Quidditch Pitch on his Firebolt under a sky the color of spilled ink in search of a glowing Snitch. Draco flew up next to him every now and then to spew insults, much as he had done at Hogwarts, but sans the malice. Harry returned the taunts as best he could, what with his stomach doing backflips whenever he heard the blond’s drawl, deeper now than it had been just a couple of years ago. He was beginning to wonder if he was developing motion sickness—definitely not a favorable condition for a Seeker.
A flicker of golden light drew both Seekers’ attention to the Snitch. Draco instantly ceased his playful taunts and dove towards it, Harry following close behind. Harry hadn't planned on catching the Snitch. He wanted Draco to have the added boost of confidence that winning would give him—but he wasn’t sure he could reach it faster than his opponent it even if he'd wanted to.
As he flew behind him, he realized that Draco had improved greatly since they’d last played against each other at Hogwarts. Was it because he spent a great deal more time perfecting his flying skills now that he didn’t have a social life? Whatever the reason for Draco’s improvement—or perhaps Harry’s deterioration—Harry had a hard time keeping up with the other Seeker as he sped off after the Snitch. His awe of Draco’s swift and graceful movements didn’t help Harry’s performance either.
Despite their best efforts, the Snitch vanished out of sight for a short while. When it reappeared, straight ahead of Harry, he set off after it. But Draco turned in front of him just as he was closing in on it, closing his fingers around the glowing ball.
When they landed, Draco looked smug, but happier than Harry had seen him in a long time. Harry decided it was time to say what he had brought him out here for in the first place.
“I think you should try out tomorrow,” he said as they sat down in the bleachers.
“For the Manticores, Potter?” Draco scoffed. “They’re the worst team here. They haven’t won a game in over a decade.”
Harry was reminded of a pale, eleven year old boy with a pointed face going on about what a nightmare being sorted into Hufflepuff would be. This time, however, he actually found Draco’s reaction cute.
“Exactly,” said Harry. “Think about it. No one wants to be on their team because they’re losers. So if you try out, they might just be desperate enough to take you because they need you in order to win.”
“That’s actually kind of insulting.”
“I’m not trying to offend you,” said Harry. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Very thoughtful of you, Potter,” said Draco. “But I’m not sure I want to play Quidditch with a bunch of people who hate me.”
“Do you play it because you like it, or because you want to be around people who like you?”
“I love Quidditch,” he answered. “But the way some people treat me these days can take the fun out of anything.”
Harry could relate. It had been the same for him when he lived with the Dursleys, except that there he hadn’t been allowed to do anything fun in the first place.
“Well,” he said, “I’m sure they’ll be too happy to have someone as good as you to say anything rude. Besides, they’ll warm up to you once you start winning games for them.”
“I suppose.”
“So you’ll do it?”
Draco shrugged. “I guess I have nothing to lose by trying out.”
Draco’s saturnine expression made Harry’s heart swell, and that pouting mouth just begged to be kissed. The blond was looking down when Harry leaned in, and didn’t turn away this time, perhaps because he hadn’t realized what was happening quickly enough. When their lips met, Draco gasped in surprise. Harry could have used the opportunity to slip his tongue into Draco’s mouth, but he didn’t—their friendship was fragile, and he didn’t want to be too insistent. He settled, instead, for just pressing his lips lightly against the blonde’s to see his reaction.
To his surprise, Draco didn’t pull away, and when Harry wrapped his arms around him he relaxed into the embrace. Harry took this as a cue to proceed and darted his tongue out to trace Draco’s lips. He savored their sweetness, like spiced honey, as Draco trembled lightly in his arms. When Draco responded by taking Harry’s lower lip in between his teeth and tugging gently, Harry’s head began to spin.
Draco let go of his lip and swept his tongue across it. Then he delved into Harry’s eagerly awaiting mouth and Harry felt his pants tighten almost instantaneously as their tongues met for the first time. The kiss was gentle and tentative, yet playful. As Draco’s tongue continued to swirl inside of his mouth, Harry decided it was expert at more than just lashing out witty remarks.
Under the assault of that wiked tongue, he submitted fully to Draco, afraid to turn him away by being to forceful or even trying too hard to please. But Harry’s worst fear was realized when, despite his cautions, Draco suddenly pulled away.
“We should go. It’s beginning to rain,” he mumbled, avoiding Harry’s eyes. Then he stood up from the bleachers and picked up his broom. Indeed, a drop of water landed on Harry’s glasses, but he was sure the rain wasn’t the reason Draco wanted to leave. Not another word was exchanged between them as they walked back to the castle and headed for their room.
*****
Draco made no mention of what had happened out on the Quidditch Pitch, nor did he show any signs of regret or embarrassment. He acted as if nothing at all had happened between them, and it was driving Harry insane.
He considered leaving the room to find Ron, just to get away, but he wasn’t really in the mood for company. Instead, he stripped down to his boxers and started getting into bed. He was just slipping under the covers when he noticed that Draco, who was already lying down in nothing but a pair of sport briefs, was touching himself.
Harry paused and his eyes glued themselves to the pale figure on the other mattress. The storm was raging outside, but all he noticed was that Draco was circling his nipple with his finger from the outside in. Then he pinched it and tugged at it until it became fully erect. His other hand was running up his inner thigh, stopping just short of his groin to draw lazy patterns on his porcelain skin.
Harry tore his eyes away, taking deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. Did he really just see what he thought he saw? He looked again. Draco’s eyes were closed, his pink mouth parted. His cock was hard and straining against the green and white cotton of his briefs.
Draco’s left hand was now fondling his other nipple, while the other moved ever closer to that mouth-watering bulge. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. It wasn’t right to watch. He knew he should just close the hangings around his bed, but the display was just too titillating. And why the hell was Draco touching himself right in front of him?
“Most people would close the curtains,” said Harry, his voice quivering with barely contained desire.
“I don’t care if you watch,” whispred Draco huskily. His hand covered the bulge in his briefs and he began rubbing his cock through the cotton.
As he watchd, Harry continued to observe as if in a trance. His mouth went dry when Draco darted out his tongue to moisten his lips. Then the blond pulled down his underwear and Harry found himself digging his palm into his own hardness.
Draco began caressing his cock in long, slow strokes. Harry felt like a thirteen-year-old watching a porn video, but he didn’t care, the sight before him was more erotic than any dream or fantasy.
The blond brought a hand to his lips, and Harry held his breath when he sucked two fingers into his mouth as he continued to pump his cock. Then he pulled out the digits, now glistening with saliva, and they disappeared in between his legs.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t actually see what Draco was doing with his other hand from the angle at which he was sitting, but there was no question that he was fingering his arse.
The blond moaned softly as his hand began to move. He must have brushed a spot that felt good because he arched off of the bed and cried out in pleasure, almost as if he had climaxed. Harry had never stuck his fingers up his own backside, so he could only imagine what Draco was feeling.
“You can touch yourself, you know,” drawled Draco. “Or better yet, fuck me.”
Harry was so shocked he nearly fell off the edge of his bed. His voice cracked as he asked, “What?”
“I want you, Harry,” Draco panted. “Fuck me.”
Harry was beginning to wonder if he was hallucinating. Draco Malfoy was lying naked on his bed, writhing and begging for him.
“Please, Harry. I need to feel you inside me.”
Harry knew shagging Draco now wasn’t a good idea. They were just beginning to get along, and with a past like theirs, giving into carnal desires this early would do nothing to stabilize their relationship. His cock, however, was eager to succumb to Draco’s pleas; after a brief moment of indecision, Harry hopped into Draco’s bed and was on his elbows and knees above the blond, snogging him.
It happened in a flash of lightening. Harry saw white as a crippling pain tore through his nether regions. He was thrown off the bed and, with a thud, he landed on the floor, curled up in agony.
“The fuck was that for!?”
“You were trying to climb on top of me,” yelled Draco.
“If I’m not mistaken, Draco, you asked me to fuck you. I can’t possibly do it from across the room!” Harry was furious. Getting a kick in the nuts for accepting an invitation was definitely something that could only happen to him.
“So you’d fuck anyone who asked you to?”
Harry was baffled. “Were you testing me to see if I would?”
Draco’s expression showed that his anger was seeped with sadness. “I just wanted to see what your intentions were.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to know why you were being nice to me-- if you really had feelings for me, or if you just wanted to play hero again.”
“You think I want to play hero?” asked Harry incredulously.
“Yeah, that’s what I think. You want to feed your ego by making me feel like I have a friend. If you get a shag out of it, so much the better.”
“And you figured all of this out by putting yourself on display and judging my reaction?”
Draco nodded.
Harry’s hands were curled into fists at his sides. He could not find the words to express his anger.
“How… Slytherin of you,” he said at a last. As he pulled back the covers of his bed to get in, a heavy book fell onto the floor. Surprised, Harry bent down to pick it up. It wasn’t a book he recognized, and was bound in garnet-colored leather and decorated with runes and symbols that he wasn’t familiar with.
This must be yours,” he said, handing the book to Draco.
“No it isn’t,” said Draco without looking. “What would my stuff be doing in your bed?”
“Well, it’s not mine,” said Harry, “and I didn’t have anyone over, so…”
“Fine, let me see it.” Draco snatched the book out of Harry’s hands. Harry heard a sizzling sound and his roommate dropped the book as if it were a rabid Monster Book of Monsters.
“What the hell are you trying to do, Potter?” yelled Draco, holding his burned hand by the wrist.
“Are you okay?” What happened?” Harry came closer to inspect Draco’s hand.
“Take your evil book and get away from me!” Draco shouted as he shut the curtains.
Harry stood there for a moment, completely flummoxed, but then took the mysterious book and went to sit on his own bed. Cautiously, he examined its cover, wondering why it had burned Draco, but didn’t harm him. He opened the front page, and noticed that it was brittle with age. The Book of Shadows was the title, but there were no names, neither of author, publisher, nor owner. There was no university library stamp, either.
Frustrated, Harry tossed the book onto his bedside table. He was too angry and tired to care what it was or how it came into his possession. Tomorrow, he would turn it into the Lost and Found. After the book landed, however, it opened itself to the center. Intrigued, Harry picked it, back up to see what was on the page.
The Veil of Death
The Veil of Death is a portal to the otherworld.
Harry’s heart began to hammer wildly in his chest. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be… could it?
…those who pass through the gateway are lost forever. Only a summoning ritual performed by one in possession of the Veil of Life can bring a soul back to the world of the living.
Harry traced the calligraphy with his fingers as if it were an epiphany, his anger forgotten. Tears of joy gathered in his eyes. He could bring Sirius back—there was a way.
Tbc…
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 2,455
Beta:
yura_slashSummary: Harry attends a post-Hogwarts University where Draco Malfoy is his roommate, and secrets of an ancient evil threatening to resurface lurk within the castle walls.
Over the next couple of weeks, study sessions with Draco had become the norm. For Harry, they were an excuse to be close to Draco, to become lost in the sound of his voice and the intricacy of his scent: tangerines and green tea with just a hint of rosemary. He even noticed that despite Draco’s feigned annoyance, the blond enjoyed having someone to talk to, even if their conversations were usually limited to what they were doing in Potions or Magical Gemology. Harry would have liked to have an excuse to study for other classes with Draco—his scent really was intoxicating—but Draco knew that Hermione could help him in Runic spells, and he didn’t need help in DADA because he was the best in class.
These study get-togethers were, however, still too formal for Harry’s liking. He wanted to get to know the real Draco, not just the blossoming Potions professor. But Draco was hesitant to talk about himself or about anything not having to do with a class they had together. Harry hoped that this reluctance to talk openly was a result of their past animosity, and that it would soon pass.
One Friday night, despite Draco’s tentativeness in developing a friendship, Harry could not resist inviting him to go flying. Trials for the last remaining Quidditch team, the Manticores, were to be held the following morning, and Harry was determined to convince Draco to try out.
Now, after dragging Draco out to the pitch, Harry was circling the Quidditch Pitch on his Firebolt under a sky the color of spilled ink in search of a glowing Snitch. Draco flew up next to him every now and then to spew insults, much as he had done at Hogwarts, but sans the malice. Harry returned the taunts as best he could, what with his stomach doing backflips whenever he heard the blond’s drawl, deeper now than it had been just a couple of years ago. He was beginning to wonder if he was developing motion sickness—definitely not a favorable condition for a Seeker.
A flicker of golden light drew both Seekers’ attention to the Snitch. Draco instantly ceased his playful taunts and dove towards it, Harry following close behind. Harry hadn't planned on catching the Snitch. He wanted Draco to have the added boost of confidence that winning would give him—but he wasn’t sure he could reach it faster than his opponent it even if he'd wanted to.
As he flew behind him, he realized that Draco had improved greatly since they’d last played against each other at Hogwarts. Was it because he spent a great deal more time perfecting his flying skills now that he didn’t have a social life? Whatever the reason for Draco’s improvement—or perhaps Harry’s deterioration—Harry had a hard time keeping up with the other Seeker as he sped off after the Snitch. His awe of Draco’s swift and graceful movements didn’t help Harry’s performance either.
Despite their best efforts, the Snitch vanished out of sight for a short while. When it reappeared, straight ahead of Harry, he set off after it. But Draco turned in front of him just as he was closing in on it, closing his fingers around the glowing ball.
When they landed, Draco looked smug, but happier than Harry had seen him in a long time. Harry decided it was time to say what he had brought him out here for in the first place.
“I think you should try out tomorrow,” he said as they sat down in the bleachers.
“For the Manticores, Potter?” Draco scoffed. “They’re the worst team here. They haven’t won a game in over a decade.”
Harry was reminded of a pale, eleven year old boy with a pointed face going on about what a nightmare being sorted into Hufflepuff would be. This time, however, he actually found Draco’s reaction cute.
“Exactly,” said Harry. “Think about it. No one wants to be on their team because they’re losers. So if you try out, they might just be desperate enough to take you because they need you in order to win.”
“That’s actually kind of insulting.”
“I’m not trying to offend you,” said Harry. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Very thoughtful of you, Potter,” said Draco. “But I’m not sure I want to play Quidditch with a bunch of people who hate me.”
“Do you play it because you like it, or because you want to be around people who like you?”
“I love Quidditch,” he answered. “But the way some people treat me these days can take the fun out of anything.”
Harry could relate. It had been the same for him when he lived with the Dursleys, except that there he hadn’t been allowed to do anything fun in the first place.
“Well,” he said, “I’m sure they’ll be too happy to have someone as good as you to say anything rude. Besides, they’ll warm up to you once you start winning games for them.”
“I suppose.”
“So you’ll do it?”
Draco shrugged. “I guess I have nothing to lose by trying out.”
Draco’s saturnine expression made Harry’s heart swell, and that pouting mouth just begged to be kissed. The blond was looking down when Harry leaned in, and didn’t turn away this time, perhaps because he hadn’t realized what was happening quickly enough. When their lips met, Draco gasped in surprise. Harry could have used the opportunity to slip his tongue into Draco’s mouth, but he didn’t—their friendship was fragile, and he didn’t want to be too insistent. He settled, instead, for just pressing his lips lightly against the blonde’s to see his reaction.
To his surprise, Draco didn’t pull away, and when Harry wrapped his arms around him he relaxed into the embrace. Harry took this as a cue to proceed and darted his tongue out to trace Draco’s lips. He savored their sweetness, like spiced honey, as Draco trembled lightly in his arms. When Draco responded by taking Harry’s lower lip in between his teeth and tugging gently, Harry’s head began to spin.
Draco let go of his lip and swept his tongue across it. Then he delved into Harry’s eagerly awaiting mouth and Harry felt his pants tighten almost instantaneously as their tongues met for the first time. The kiss was gentle and tentative, yet playful. As Draco’s tongue continued to swirl inside of his mouth, Harry decided it was expert at more than just lashing out witty remarks.
Under the assault of that wiked tongue, he submitted fully to Draco, afraid to turn him away by being to forceful or even trying too hard to please. But Harry’s worst fear was realized when, despite his cautions, Draco suddenly pulled away.
“We should go. It’s beginning to rain,” he mumbled, avoiding Harry’s eyes. Then he stood up from the bleachers and picked up his broom. Indeed, a drop of water landed on Harry’s glasses, but he was sure the rain wasn’t the reason Draco wanted to leave. Not another word was exchanged between them as they walked back to the castle and headed for their room.
*****
Draco made no mention of what had happened out on the Quidditch Pitch, nor did he show any signs of regret or embarrassment. He acted as if nothing at all had happened between them, and it was driving Harry insane.
He considered leaving the room to find Ron, just to get away, but he wasn’t really in the mood for company. Instead, he stripped down to his boxers and started getting into bed. He was just slipping under the covers when he noticed that Draco, who was already lying down in nothing but a pair of sport briefs, was touching himself.
Harry paused and his eyes glued themselves to the pale figure on the other mattress. The storm was raging outside, but all he noticed was that Draco was circling his nipple with his finger from the outside in. Then he pinched it and tugged at it until it became fully erect. His other hand was running up his inner thigh, stopping just short of his groin to draw lazy patterns on his porcelain skin.
Harry tore his eyes away, taking deep breaths to calm his pounding heart. Did he really just see what he thought he saw? He looked again. Draco’s eyes were closed, his pink mouth parted. His cock was hard and straining against the green and white cotton of his briefs.
Draco’s left hand was now fondling his other nipple, while the other moved ever closer to that mouth-watering bulge. Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. It wasn’t right to watch. He knew he should just close the hangings around his bed, but the display was just too titillating. And why the hell was Draco touching himself right in front of him?
“Most people would close the curtains,” said Harry, his voice quivering with barely contained desire.
“I don’t care if you watch,” whispred Draco huskily. His hand covered the bulge in his briefs and he began rubbing his cock through the cotton.
As he watchd, Harry continued to observe as if in a trance. His mouth went dry when Draco darted out his tongue to moisten his lips. Then the blond pulled down his underwear and Harry found himself digging his palm into his own hardness.
Draco began caressing his cock in long, slow strokes. Harry felt like a thirteen-year-old watching a porn video, but he didn’t care, the sight before him was more erotic than any dream or fantasy.
The blond brought a hand to his lips, and Harry held his breath when he sucked two fingers into his mouth as he continued to pump his cock. Then he pulled out the digits, now glistening with saliva, and they disappeared in between his legs.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He couldn’t actually see what Draco was doing with his other hand from the angle at which he was sitting, but there was no question that he was fingering his arse.
The blond moaned softly as his hand began to move. He must have brushed a spot that felt good because he arched off of the bed and cried out in pleasure, almost as if he had climaxed. Harry had never stuck his fingers up his own backside, so he could only imagine what Draco was feeling.
“You can touch yourself, you know,” drawled Draco. “Or better yet, fuck me.”
Harry was so shocked he nearly fell off the edge of his bed. His voice cracked as he asked, “What?”
“I want you, Harry,” Draco panted. “Fuck me.”
Harry was beginning to wonder if he was hallucinating. Draco Malfoy was lying naked on his bed, writhing and begging for him.
“Please, Harry. I need to feel you inside me.”
Harry knew shagging Draco now wasn’t a good idea. They were just beginning to get along, and with a past like theirs, giving into carnal desires this early would do nothing to stabilize their relationship. His cock, however, was eager to succumb to Draco’s pleas; after a brief moment of indecision, Harry hopped into Draco’s bed and was on his elbows and knees above the blond, snogging him.
It happened in a flash of lightening. Harry saw white as a crippling pain tore through his nether regions. He was thrown off the bed and, with a thud, he landed on the floor, curled up in agony.
“The fuck was that for!?”
“You were trying to climb on top of me,” yelled Draco.
“If I’m not mistaken, Draco, you asked me to fuck you. I can’t possibly do it from across the room!” Harry was furious. Getting a kick in the nuts for accepting an invitation was definitely something that could only happen to him.
“So you’d fuck anyone who asked you to?”
Harry was baffled. “Were you testing me to see if I would?”
Draco’s expression showed that his anger was seeped with sadness. “I just wanted to see what your intentions were.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wanted to know why you were being nice to me-- if you really had feelings for me, or if you just wanted to play hero again.”
“You think I want to play hero?” asked Harry incredulously.
“Yeah, that’s what I think. You want to feed your ego by making me feel like I have a friend. If you get a shag out of it, so much the better.”
“And you figured all of this out by putting yourself on display and judging my reaction?”
Draco nodded.
Harry’s hands were curled into fists at his sides. He could not find the words to express his anger.
“How… Slytherin of you,” he said at a last. As he pulled back the covers of his bed to get in, a heavy book fell onto the floor. Surprised, Harry bent down to pick it up. It wasn’t a book he recognized, and was bound in garnet-colored leather and decorated with runes and symbols that he wasn’t familiar with.
This must be yours,” he said, handing the book to Draco.
“No it isn’t,” said Draco without looking. “What would my stuff be doing in your bed?”
“Well, it’s not mine,” said Harry, “and I didn’t have anyone over, so…”
“Fine, let me see it.” Draco snatched the book out of Harry’s hands. Harry heard a sizzling sound and his roommate dropped the book as if it were a rabid Monster Book of Monsters.
“What the hell are you trying to do, Potter?” yelled Draco, holding his burned hand by the wrist.
“Are you okay?” What happened?” Harry came closer to inspect Draco’s hand.
“Take your evil book and get away from me!” Draco shouted as he shut the curtains.
Harry stood there for a moment, completely flummoxed, but then took the mysterious book and went to sit on his own bed. Cautiously, he examined its cover, wondering why it had burned Draco, but didn’t harm him. He opened the front page, and noticed that it was brittle with age. The Book of Shadows was the title, but there were no names, neither of author, publisher, nor owner. There was no university library stamp, either.
Frustrated, Harry tossed the book onto his bedside table. He was too angry and tired to care what it was or how it came into his possession. Tomorrow, he would turn it into the Lost and Found. After the book landed, however, it opened itself to the center. Intrigued, Harry picked it, back up to see what was on the page.
The Veil of Death
The Veil of Death is a portal to the otherworld.
Harry’s heart began to hammer wildly in his chest. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be… could it?
…those who pass through the gateway are lost forever. Only a summoning ritual performed by one in possession of the Veil of Life can bring a soul back to the world of the living.
Harry traced the calligraphy with his fingers as if it were an epiphany, his anger forgotten. Tears of joy gathered in his eyes. He could bring Sirius back—there was a way.
Tbc…
Previous Chapters:
Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1
