Draco and Harry's Escort Service

Chapter Ten

Draco's bedroom was nothing like the one in his stark, white flat in London. This one was all dark wood, rich fabrics, and luxurious comfort. The four poster bed was huge, as Harry discovered when Draco tossed him on it and immediately sprawled over him.

The long-awaited kiss was sheer bliss. Harry felt reality slipping away until Malfoy raised himself on his arms to look down at him.

"I like what you did to my pants, Potter. Your turn."

He snagged Harry's wand and spent the next few minutes leisurely slicing away Harry's jeans in a seductive reproduction of Harry's action downstairs. He didn't stop at the jeans, however. When Harry was nude below the waist, Draco surveyed him with a wicked smirk and reached for him, but Harry scissored his legs around Malfoy's and flipped him over.

He pinned Draco's wrists to the bed and smiled down at the surprised Slytherin.

"Not this time," Harry said. "It's my turn."

His hands skated down Draco's arms and explored his smooth torso and flat stomach. He continued the caress over Malfoy's hips and thighs, removing Draco's final item of clothing in the process. Harry kissed his way back up Draco's long legs and nuzzled the blonde curls for a moment before sweeping his tongue up the length of Malfoy's so-soft yet rock hard penis.

Draco drew in a harsh breath and Harry chuckled at the heady sense of power. It felt bloody good to have the proud Slytherin at his mercy. His mouth enclosed the shaft completely and he methodically repaid Draco for every tortuous, euphoric stroke he had ever used on Harry, using hands, lips, and tongue.

Malfoy's breathy gasps of pleasure were driving Harry wild. He quickly dropped his wet hand downward, fondling Malfoy's hard testicles before sliding lower. Draco jerked at the contact. Harry released Draco and moved upward. He probed the opening with his own throbbing member while gripping Malfoy's in his hand again.

"Wait, Harry--" Draco began.

"Shhhh, just relax," Harry murmured against Draco's mouth.

"Don't shush me. Malfoys are not shushed," Draco commented, but Harry felt him relax.

"Malfoy's need to learn when to be quiet," Harry said and groaned with delight as he entered Draco with a careful push. Malfoy gasped and Harry kissed him lingeringly as he began to move. Draco thrashed and his fists clenched into the covers, half-tearing them from the bed. Harry thrust in time with the strokes of his hand until, incredibly, they climaxed at the same instant. The feel of Draco's shudders vibrated through his own body. Harry collapsed on Malfoy's chest, wet with sweat.

After a long, spent moment, Harry gently withdrew from Draco and slipped over to lie next to him. He stared into Draco's enigmatic grey eyes with a wicked smile.

"This aggressive new Potter is going to take some getting used to," Draco said seriously. "Not that I'm complaining." Harry felt warmth tint his cheeks and Malfoy's hand reached up to caress his face. "Blushing again?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Harry said wistfully. "You and me, I mean."

"Really? I think it was inevitable," Draco replied. Harry cocked a brow.

"Why?"

"Well, you are the Chosen One, Savior of the Wizarding World, and I am practically perfect. Who else is good enough for us?"

Harry had to laugh.

"Your logic is delightfully twisted."

"You know it's true."

"I suppose you're right."

"Harry Potter admitting I'm right? This is a momentous day."

"What shall we do now?" Harry asked and Draco's silver eyes glinted.

"I can think of a few things."

"Besides that," Harry said dryly.

"I was referring to finishing the library. Honestly, Potter, you must pull your mind from the gutter on occasion." He grinned at Harry's expression. "However, we could take a bath, first."

"Oh no, your bath water could cook a lobster. I'd rather emerge with skin intact."

"Fine, I'll cool it down a bit so it won't mar your delicate skin. I thought Gryffindors were brave."

"Bravery does not include suicide by hot water."

In the end, the bath took quite a lot longer than planned and the water had to be reheated twice. Both were tired and famished when they retreated to the kitchen clad in two of Draco's thick dressing gowns.

"Another advantage Muggles have over wizards," Harry commented as he took a seat at the small kitchen table and watched Malfoy retreat into the huge pantry. "Pizza delivery."

Draco ignored him, as he usually did when Harry made Muggle references, and Harry quickly stopped envisioning pizza when Draco produced seared scallops and crab fettuccini. The Slytherin was sheer genius in the kitchen.

"I have something to show you," Draco said later over his glass of Bordeaux. "Although I'll most likely regret it."

"That sounds serious."

Draco sighed. "I'll probably never see you again once I disclose this." He got to his feet and motioned Harry to follow. They left the kitchen and returned to the drawing room. Draco retrieved his wand from the corner with a suggestive look at Harry, who shook his head in puzzlement. What could possibly cause him to leave Draco, now?

Malfoy stood in the center of the room and cast a few spells. A large section of the floor detached itself and moved aside, revealing an opening.

"I'm not certain why the Order did not empty this prior to the Ministry torching the house. They knew it was here. Afterward, they must have assumed it was destroyed. It was, however, protected with several spells and survived intact."

Harry recalled Arthur Weasley disclosing the location of the Malfoys' room full of "Dark Arts" items. It was possible the Order of the Phoenix never mentioned it to the Ministry. Harry suddenly did not want to see whatever Draco meant to show him. He would rather not know any dark secrets if the knowledge would snatch away the happiness he had so recently discovered.

"Draco--wait."

Malfoy was already partway down the steps.

"No help for it, Potter. Come along." Light flared in the room and Harry swallowed his trepidation. He descended the stairs. At the bottom, he stood next to Draco, who gestured at a huge wall of books. A large black desk stood before the shelves, piled high with scroll cases and parchment.

"My father's private library. You might find the solution to your Apparition obsession. My father may have even written notes on the subject--I haven't looked through any of it." A flicker of pain crossed his features and Harry realized Lupin had been right. Harry missed parents he had never really known. Malfoy missed the people that had read him stories, healed his skinned knees, tucked him into bed, celebrated holidays, and shared his life. His loss really was greater than Harry's.

He gripped Draco's shoulder comfortingly and then looked at him in confusion.

"Why would this make me leave you?"

"Are you joking? The moment you sit at that desk and begin reading, I'll not see you again until I come down here and carry you back upstairs."

Harry grinned, relieved. "That shouldn't be a problem for you," he said wickedly. Draco glanced sidelong at him.

"I suppose not."

Harry took a step toward the desk, but Malfoy stopped him with an arm across his chest.

"Oh no, not tonight. You were yawning all through my excellent dinner. You can get up bright and early tomorrow and run down here to read until your eyes cross. Right now, you are going to bed."

Harry sighed, knowing he was right. He had barely slept at all in Draco's London flat. The thought of sleeping upstairs in Malfoy's comfortable bed wrapped around Draco's long form held a particular enticement. He spun about and paused at the foot of the steps to look over his shoulder.

"Coming?" he asked hopefully.

Draco smiled and snuffed the lights.

They were crossing to the main staircase when an owl fluttered through the still-open door. Draco slammed it shut with a careless spell while Harry detached the message from the bird's leg.

Draco looked at him sharply when the blood drained from Harry's face.

"What is it?"

"The books will have to wait." Harry handed the message to Draco. "Hermione and Ron want an escort to London."

Draco snorted. "Granger needs an escort? Weasley the Wonder Witch should be able to handle anything we can."

"I think she just wants to see me. It's been... bloody hell, over six months." Harry was assaulted by guilt. He hadn't even thought about his friends much since teaming up with Malfoy.

"Well, feel free to go alone. I'm not particularly fond of your minions and it will save you coming up with any... uncomfortable explanations."

Harry scowled. "They are not 'minions' and I'll have to tell them eventually."

"Why?" Draco asked blandly.

"I don't keep secrets from my friends!"

Draco rolled his eyes and muttered something about "idiot Gryffindors" on his way up the stairs. Harry sighed and wondered if his life would ever be boring. Certainly not as long as Draco Malfoy was in it, at any rate.

Author's Note: I was planning to end this story, but it seems to have evolved into a trilogy, since I'm dying to see Ron and Hermione's reaction to this relationship.