Draco and Harry's Escort Service

Chapter Three

Harry woke to the sound of the front door opening. He was somewhat surprised to find himself on the couch, but he adjusted quickly and rolled to his feet after a quick glance at the mantle clock. It was nearing midnight. He crept to the doorway and Accioed his wand from upstairs. It snapped into his hand and he silently advanced down the hallway. After a moment, it became obvious the intruder was not exactly sneaking, especially when they ran into the hall table and sent the ceramic basin crashing to the marble floor.

Harry hurried forward to find Malfoy crouched over the shards making shushing noises. The sound was so incongruous that Harry just blinked at him for a moment.

"Malfoy?"

The silver head rose and a huge grin split his face. He stood up and Harry watched in amazement as he swayed. Draco was soaking wet. The ends of his sodden hair actually dripped, as did his cloak.

"Harry Potter," Draco said in a voice most unlike his, although Harry couldn't quite define why. Malfoy stepped forward and reached out to clutch Harry's shirt. Potter's eyes widened at the onslaught of alcohol that assaulted him. "Harry Potter... damn you..."

"Malfoy! You're foxed!" Harry gripped Draco's shoulders, doubting his senses. He'd been fooled before and Malfoys never got drunk.

"You've always been bloody good at pointing out the obvious, Potter. Twenty points to Gryffindor!" Draco raised a hand and pointed to the sky in accompaniment to his outburst. If he wasn't drunk, he was putting up quite a convincing show. When he lowered his hand, he flung it firmly around Harry's neck and drew him even closer. Harry felt the wetness from Malfoy's clothing soak into his.

"Potter. You've ruined me, you know," Draco said in a conspiratorial whisper. Harry began to feel lightheaded from the fumes. He wondered where Draco had gone... and when. Malfoy continued, "I'd Crucio you, but the thought of you writhing on the ground..." Draco groaned and buried his face into Harry's hair. His lips pressed into Potter's neck just below his right ear.

Harry forced down the familiar surge of want. He was beginning to believe Draco was well and truly smashed. He put an arm around Malfoy's wet shoulders.

"Come on; let's get you upstairs before you vomit all over the floor."

"Malfoys don't vomit," Draco mumbled. He seemed to have plans other than going upstairs. He nuzzled Harry's neck and pressed himself fully against Potter, who winced as the cold wetness permeated his clothing.

"Yes, I thought Malfoys didn't get drunk, either, but you seem to have overlooked that rule, for once. Let's get you out of these wet things, to start with." Harry reached up his free hand to unfasten the clasp on Draco's cloak.

"God, yes, let's," Malfoy echoed and sighed as the sodden cloak fell to the floor with a wet slap. "Yours, too."

Harry tried to stop him--too late. Malfoy's hand snagged the front of Harry's shirt and jerked sharply. The buttons sprang off and hit wall and floor with muted plinks. Both of Draco's hands--ice cold hands!--slid over Harry's bared chest and down his ribs.

Draco caught Harry's lips in a kiss, but Potter was more concerned with how he was going to get Malfoy up the stairs. He supposed he could levitate him, but in Malfoy's current state, the motion might nauseate him. Harry broke the kiss.

"Stop it. You need to go upstairs."

"Upstairs," Draco repeated and nibbled Harry's throat. Draco's hands, warming now, were sliding over Harry's skin. He tried to ignore the tingling sensation stealing over him. Malfoy ran his tongue over Harry's collarbone. "You taste good," he murmured.

Harry tamped down his sudden, ferocious rush of desire and pried Draco's face away from his skin.

"Help me get you upstairs," Harry demanded. Malfoy's silver eyes fairly glowed and a wicked grin curved his lips. "If you're faking this, so help me I'll kill you."

He managed to maneuver Draco to the foot of the stairs--difficult since Malfoy did not relinquish his hold on Harry. They made it up a dozen or so steps before Malfoy stumbled, bringing them both down hard. Harry's hip banged into a wooden step and he hissed in pain.

Draco, who had landed atop him, was instantly solicitous.

"Want me to kiss it better?" he whispered and dropped down to blaze a path of wet kisses down Harry's abdomen. Harry laughed when it unexpectedly tickled.

"No!" he said sharply. He grabbed Draco by a large handful of hair and pulled him away. Malfoy didn't even flinch.

"Want to play rough, eh, Harry?" he murmured and clamped his lips onto Harry's. The kiss was bruising--almost painful, but Harry had never had any resistance to Draco's kisses and this was no exception. Before he turned into Malfoy's helpless puppet, Harry dredged up his reserves of strength and pushed Draco away firmly.

"Not here--let's go to bed," he said. As he'd hoped, the word got Draco's attention. "The nice, soft bed," he added.

Malfoy nodded and Harry sighed in relief when they made it up the remainder of the steps. Harry steered him into his own room--Malfoy had one down the hall, but he wasn't sure they would make it that far. Draco released him and allowed Harry to pull the wet shirt over his head. Harry steeled himself and unbuttoned Malfoy's black trousers, trying to ignore the hands that were now tangled in his hair. Draco watched him through half-lidded eyes and his lips were slightly parted. The light from the single candle Harry had lit gleamed on Malfoy's pale skin.

Harry, already aroused from the encounter on the stairs, felt himself grew rock hard with lust. His hands shook and he clumsily undid the last of the buttons before carefully sliding the damp slacks down over Draco's hips and thighs.

Malfoy swayed and nearly fell when he stepped out of the clothing, but his hands on Harry's head steadied him. When Harry stood, Draco tried to kiss him again, but he avoided the incendiary lips and steered him next to the bed before shoving the blankets back.

"Into bed," he ordered. Draco obediently tumbled into bed, but dragged Harry down with him.

"Draco, you won't remember any of this tomorrow."

He pushed himself up, but Malfoy's hands tightened on his shoulders.

"Just stay with me, Harry," Draco said softly. Harry groaned. He had fully intended to go sleep in Malfoy's room. The two of them had never slept together, likely fearing the intimacy of non-sexual contact. "Please."

The word was Harry's undoing. Draco never pleaded. He sighed and dropped next to Malfoy and tugged the blankets over them both. Draco relaxed immediately and Harry could tell he was thankfully drifting off to sleep. He moved slightly and Draco's arm tightened around him reflexively.

"Don't leave me," Draco mumbled and Harry laid his head on Malfoy's chest and pressed himself against Draco's side.

"I'll never leave you," he whispered, knowing it was true. Even if Malfoy left him, a part of Harry would be with him always.

ooOoo

Draco cracked his eyes open and instantly regretted the action. Pain lanced into his brain with every speck of light. He quickly clamped them shut again, but the pounding did not subside.

He tried to raise a hand to remove the daggers that someone had obviously slammed into his skull, but found his arm trapped. Draco froze, trying to send his mind back through the painful fog to locate a memory. What the hell?

He felt soft breath against his chest from the head that lay upon his shoulder. An arm was thrown across his abdomen.

Draco suddenly remembered going out into the storm. He recalled the three buxom beauties plying him with drink and then kisses. He remembered trying to drive Potter out of his mind... did he sleep with one of those girls?

No... he vaguely remembered a dull disappointment that the girls' lips were too soft... their eyes not expressive enough... or green enough... He had staggered out into the night.

The head shifted slightly and Draco caught the comforting scent of Harry's hair. He was both relieved and alarmed. What had happened last night? He semi-recalled Potter on the stairs, threatening and cajoling, and Draco wanting nothing more than to wrap himself in Harry.

I'll never leave you. Had he dreamed that? He must have, but why was Potter here, now?

He remained still for a long time, listening to Harry's rhythmic breathing and watching the room brighten around them.

Draco knew the exact moment that Harry woke up. There was no obvious change--just a slight altering of his breathing and the tiniest shift of his head that sent a miniscule brush of soft hair tickling across Draco's collarbone. Shortly thereafter, Potter's entire body tensed like a snared rabbit. Draco's jaw clenched, but he berated himself. What had he expected? A big hug and sweet morning kiss? He thought it best not to dwell on the idea.

Potter's head rose with a shiver-inducing sweep of hair sliding over Draco's skin. Malfoy kept his eyes shut as Harry levered himself to look into Draco's face. Malfoy planned to fake sleep, but Harry's hand suddenly slipped from Draco's ribs to glide upwards in a delicate caress that ended on Malfoy's chest, leaving a crop of gooseflesh springing in its wake.

"You are awake," Potter said.

"No, I think I'm dead," Draco admitted. "Did you impale my head with train spikes somewhere behind my eyes while I slept?"

"You did that to yourself. Prior to sleeping."

"Bloody hell."

"Welcome to the aftereffects of too much drink."

"Is there a cure?"

"How should I know? I've never been drunk," Harry replied, somewhat smugly.

Malfoy huffed, an action that shifted Harry slightly on his chest.

"Of course not. How silly of me. The Boy Who Abstained."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry said sharply. "I've had plenty of alcohol. Just not enough to get myself to the point... where you were last night."

"I wasn't drunk," Malfoy lied.

"Well, you were doing a damned fine impression of it, then!"

"Do you really need to shout?"

"I'm not even talking loudly."

"Your voice feels like a bludgeon."

"I suppose I can try to locate a spell or potion to help you," Harry offered.

"Wouldn't you rather watch me suffer?"

Harry chuckled. "No. It's not as amusing as expected." Draco braved a glance at Potter, to find those guileless green eyes sparkling at him. He groaned and clamped his eyes shut again.

A fluttering sound caused him to crack them open again. Harry's white owl perched on the end of the bed, accompanied by a smaller, darker owl. The sight caused Harry to scramble out of bed. Malfoy kept his eyes open to peruse Potter's near-naked form as he detached the message from the dark owl's leg.

Harry unrolled it and then grinned happily at Draco.

"We have a job! And look, the weather has cleared."

"I assumed that from the shards of light torturing me."

With Harry gone, Draco found no reason to lie abed wallowing in self-induced pain. He swung his feet over the edge of the mattress and sat up. His headache increased fivefold at the movement. He leaned over and buried his face in his hands.

"What's the job?" he muttered to take his mind off the pounding.

"It's from Luna Lovegood. Remember her? We're to escort her and a teacher to Hogwarts. Easy job, eh?"

Draco vaguely recalled Lovegood.

"Which teacher?"

"Doesn't say, but they want to leave today. They were already delayed by the storm."

"Great. As soon as I get this Hippogriff to stop gnawing on my skull, we can leave."