Stripes

Clutching the thick Charms textbook in one hand and a bundle of scrolls in the other, Draco Malfoy sauntered into the library and claimed a desk in the far end corner near an arched window. As soon as he had settled his book, scrolls, inkbottle and quills at the desk, Draco walked up to Madam Pince up front and handed over a note. The witch librarian gave him a suspicious glare from the top of her glasses, her mouth curling up bitterly as she took the note.

"Awfully late to be roaming around in the library, Mr. Malfoy," she spoke in a stern, husky voice. "Even when you do have a signed note from your Head of House." She touched the tip of her wand to the top left of the note, muttered an incantation and bored a hole there. She repeated the same incantation and touched her wand to the bottom left side.

"Prefect duties have been keeping me busy, Madam Pince," Draco said, giving her what he believed to be his most mesmerizing smile. "In fact, I was so caught up in tonight's duty that I forgot we have a Charms homework due Monday morning."

Of course he did not have Prefect rounds that night, but what Madam Pince lacked in knowledge would always be beneficial to him.

Madam Pince placed the note carefully inside a red folder and slammed the cover shut. "This note was written a week ago, Mr. Malfoy," she firmly stated in an accusing tone, her arms folded in front of her chest. "Last weekend, to be exact. I assume it was Professor Snape's intention to have you here by Sunday evening at the latest. Unless my calendar deceives me, today is Friday night of the following week."

Draco leaned forward on the desk and motioned Madam Pince to do the same so that now their heads were only inches away from each other's. As Draco whispered he made sure that the librarian heard every word clearly. "I'm afraid that you have assumed wrongly, Madam Pince," his smile grew wider as the librarian's face tightened, "I am pretty sure that Professor Snape's letter does not indicate the exact date and time of my visit to the library; it basically states that I need to be in the library to work on my Charms homework, which is what I am doing now." He withdrew from the desk and nodded graciously at Madam Pince. "So if you'd please let me start on it, ma'am."

With a harrumph Madam Pince gestured him to return to his desk. Draco turned on his heels and headed over to the thick textbook which awaited him at the end of the room, his smile turning into a triumphant smirk.

"Make sure you stay quiet," Madam Pince reminded a little too sternly as he retreated. Draco rolled his eyes and muttered whatever, you bitching old bat as he sat down on his chair.

It was a rare occasion to find him poring over a large textbook in the library, especially on a Friday night like this when he could be snogging some innocent fourth-year and doing whatever his hands pleased on the junior's body parts. As a matter of fact, the particular person had stopped him on the third floor corridor earlier, asking if the high almighty Draco Malfoy was up for a quick rendezvous. The boy looked thoroughly disappointed when Draco explained that he had dedicated the evening to Charms. He'd probably wondered if Draco was to meet up with Professor Flitwick. The image made Draco's stomach churn unpleasantly.

Draco opened the book on page five hundred sixty three and began to read the first paragraph. This has got to be the crappiest Friday night I've spent here at Hogwarts, he thought bitterly. Just as he was ready to flip open the page a few moments later, a loud rustling sound emanating from the far left side of the library broke his concentration. Putting on his best 'do be quiet or else' expression, Draco looked up and turned his head toward the noise. That particular side of the library was lined with private cubicles reserved for study groups. Each cubicle contained a large wooden desk accompanied by six wooden chairs -- two at the heads and four on the sides, facing each other; a small wooden cupboard for extra quills, inkbottles, and parchments; and a large bookcase filled with whatever textbook that the study group might need during their meeting. On normal days, usually before the exams, these cubicles were crowded with Ravenclaws who claimed that even their silent-as-a-grave common room was still too distracting to study.

But tonight, Harry Potter was sitting at the far end of the row of cubicles, alone. Three different books were laid open before him, taking up all the space on the desk. Four sheets of parchments lay on each of the empty chairs, the wet ink glistening under the torchlight. Still in his sitting position, Harry bent over under the table to collect about a dozen scrolls of parchment that were scattered all over the floor. Draco noticed that there were three piles of scrolls bundled up together on top of the ink and quills cupboard behind Harry, and assumed that Harry was in the middle of putting a bunch of scrolls together to make the fourth bundle, but failed and dropped the scrolls instead. That must have been what the noisy rustling sound he had heard earlier.

Draco smiled cynically. It amused him that after six years Harry still stubbornly insisted to do everything the Muggle-way. Somehow Potter believed that it would be more efficient than using magic. Draco noticed the golden string used to tie the bundle manually and predicted that in about a minute or so, the string would snap and Harry would have to crawl under the desk again to collect the scrolls. But hey, as long as he could get a clear view of Harry Potter's tight round arse, he would not mind very much. With a malicious smile Draco returned to his reading, watching Harry from the corner of his eye. Exactly a minute later, another loud rustling sound was heard. This time Draco managed to look up just in time when one of the piles on top of the ink and quills cupboard exploded. Another dozen of scrolls rolled under Harry's desk.

Harry muttered something that Draco assumed was a swear word. It seemed that Harry had managed to tie up the fourth bundle successfully, however, but now he had to redo the third. Harry placed the fourth bundle on top of the ink and quills cupboard carefully and prepared to crawl under the desk to collect the scrolls. He started to bend under the table, but then straightened up again and reached for the clasps on his chest instead. Quickly he unlatched the clasps, took off his robes and hung it over the back of one of the chairs, then he rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and dropped down on all fours under the table. Draco saw Harry's tie dangle from the boy's neck, swaying back and forth as he moved under the table, the red and gold stripes glinting brilliantly under the torchlight beam.

He needs to loosen that tie a bit or he'd choke.

Draco thought it inequitable that Gryffindors should wear a tie that always glittered despite the time of day, while Slytherins had to be content with a dull mix of velvet green and grayish silver. Sometimes the silver would glow in the dark, but the shine would never come as conspicuous as that of the Gryffindor's gold.

Harry managed to collect all of his scrolls and was now sitting on his chair trying to tie up the bundle. His hair was sticking out to every direction, which made it look as if he had just gotten out of bed. As if he could hear Draco's thoughts, Harry suddenly ran a hand through his hair, possibly in an attempt to neaten it a little. But the gesture made the hair look even worse than before. Draco rolled his eyes.

The scrolls were now bundled up nicely, tied with a golden string, and Harry placed the bundle on the floor as if anticipating for another explosion. He picked up a written parchment from the chair closest to him, rolled it up and glued it with magic. Draco shook his head in disbelief. If Potter knew how to use magic to keep a scroll intact surely he must have known how to tie up a bunch of scrolls together, too. Maybe he was just being stupid tonight. The other three parchments were too wet to roll so Harry left them alone. He put up his feet on the chair that was now empty, one foot on top of the other. Harry slouched a little in his chair, his head resting on the rim of the back of his chair, his eyes were fixed on the thinner textbook on the desk propped against an inkbottle.

Draco suddenly remembered that he, too, had an assignment to finish. The sooner he could get out of the library, the sooner he could summon that fourth-year kid from his dormitory, and maybe they would still have time to rendezvous after all. The darkened corridor to the left of the library was a perfect place to hide in on a Friday night like this. Draco returned to his reading.

For the next few minutes Draco was absorbed in the chapters of the Charms textbook. The assignment was to choose one of the ancient charms which theories they had discussed in class, and to explain thoroughly why he believed the particular charm would be useful in today's Wizarding world. Draco knew more ancient charms than most of his classmates did, even more than those covered in Professor Flitwick's lecture last week, and he could write an easy ten-scroll essay on the Neutralizing Charm which use was to strip a witch or a wizard off his or her magical powers completely, but he doubted Professor Flitwick would fully understand his reasoning. He believed that people like Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Hermione Granger, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and all the Mudbloods should never be introduced to magic at all. But how would he rephrase his reasons so that they did not imply the fact that these people were simply not acceptable in the Wizarding world? Eventually Draco decided to write an essay on a simpler and safer subject -- maybe a charm that turned people into frogs?

Draco was about to write the first sentence on his parchment when Harry's next bundle of scrolls exploded. Draco swore under his breath, put his quill back into the inkbottle, and strode over to Harry's cubicle. He heard Harry whisper quite an impressive series of swear words as he neared the cubicle. With one swift movement Draco drew his wand and cast a sealing charm on the scattered bundle of scrolls. Before Harry could utter a protest (or a thank you), Draco waved his wand one more time in the direction of the other bundles and sealed them.

"Now I can study in peace," he said, glaring at Harry who was crouching on the floor with one hand holding a scroll.

The black-haired boy stood up before him, waving the scroll in his hand a few millimeters away from Draco's nose. "Missed a spot."

"You can shove that one up your arse for all I care, Potter," he spat sarcastically. "Stay quiet."

Draco walked back to his desk and sat down with a huff. At least it would be some long moments later before Potter would have to bundle up another bunch of scrolls, he thought. Hopefully by that time Draco would have finished his essay.

From the corner of his eye Draco could see Harry walk over to the bookcase in the cubicle. Draco looked up just as Harry picked up a book from the middle shelf and started to flip open the pages. He was leaning against the ink and quills cupboard with one foot rested on a stool by the bookcase. Harry brought the book over to his desk a few seconds later, and read the page standing up; his hands were balled into fists, placed on either side of the book, his head bent down, his tie dangling from his neck, the red and gold stripes created a captivating shimmer like the ripples in the lake did in an autumn afternoon. Draco noticed how perfectly tanned Harry's forearms were. And not just his forearms, Draco realized, Harry's neck and face had become so much browner over the years, too. He remembered how pale the boy had looked on board the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of their first year together. But that was before Harry was introduced to Quidditch. Harry must have spent a lot more time flying in the summer sun than Draco dared give credit for.

Draco's gaze dropped to the tie. The knot looked rather tight underneath Harry's Adam's apple there; the boy needed to loosen it a little bit, just a little, to reveal more of that delicious and perfectly tanned neck.

Whoa. Draco shook his head twice to bring himself back to reality, his eyes nailed to the book. What had just happened there -- he, admiring Harry Potter's neck? Last time he checked Harry Potter had still been the arch-nemesis he had resented since first year. Suddenly this evening he turned into Harry Potter, The Boy With A Tie Draco Malfoy More Than Loved To Unknot.

Harry moved again and Draco's head snapped up again to watch. This time the dark-haired boy brought the book over to a chair and sat down. He put his feet up on the empty chair across from him, one hand reaching up to... wait a minute, he was loosening the knot in his tie. Draco felt a tingle surged through his system. He watched as Harry toss his head back a tad to give more room for his fingers to work on the tie. Harry did not take off the tie entirely; he just lowered the knot to the middle of his chest. Draco almost gaped when Harry's fingers worked on the upper buttons of his white shirt. Those fingers started to pop open each button from the neck down, and stopped at the middle of his chest, just below the knotted tie. Now Draco had clear access to glare at Harry's neck and Harry's perfectly tanned chest.

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Draco swallowed hard and forced himself to concentrate on the book in front of him. He thought about Professor Flitwick scolding him in front of the class for not submitting his homework, and then he thought about Professor Flitwick asking him to have a quick shag in the library, but then Professor Flitwick's face suddenly turned into Harry's face. Harry was in the library with him right now. Harry was available for a real quick shag before they would both go back to their homework.

"Stop it," he muttered to himself, mentally slapping himself back to reality. "This is nonsense. You're so fucking horny you can't even think straight anymore."

He was right about being horny. He was right about not being straight, too. But he was not entirely sure about the nonsense bit. Harry was sitting right there, nearly naked. Well, not nearly, but once a button was popped the others would easily follow.

Draco closed his eyes and squeezed them tight. This was Harry Potter, for crying out loud. A boy he's hated since the beginning of first year on board the Hogwarts Express. A boy whom his father hated more than life. A boy who had grown up rather beautifully over the years and turned into such an attractive man that Draco could not seem to take his eyes off at the moment.

He looked up again. Harry's head was rested on the rim of the back of his chair, eyes closed. He was not asleep, Draco thought to himself, he was just thinking. But thinking in any way, shape, and form should not be made an excuse to legalize the sitting position Harry had chosen to be in at that time, with his head tilted to the side like that, revealing even more of that delicious-looking neck. Draco wondered what it tasted like. Draco wondered if Harry would know if he just gave that neck a little lick.

You fool, of course he'd know. He'd feel your mouth on him.

Draco groaned inwardly. The thought of having his mouth on any of Harry Potter's body part had made him shift uncomfortably in his seat again. He needed a break, a really long and refreshing break that would help him concentrate better when he'd return to the homework. And maybe during that break he could manage to slap some sense into his obviously dented brain.

He slammed the Charms book closed and walked over to the Restricted Section. He was happy of the fact that sixth-year students were allowed in the otherwise forbidden part of the library; it contained so many dark arts books that he knew would be useful in the future. And, according to Pansy Parkinson, it also offered some illegal fiction that even Knockturn Alley did not sell. Draco was hoping that he could find one of the shorter fictions to read, just to take his mind off of Harry Potter and that blasted neck. Maybe something dark and evil, he decided.

Draco had been browsing through the fiction section for a few minutes, coming across a couple titles that he liked but would have to check out since they were thick books, when suddenly a voice broke the silence. "So, what are you working on, anyway?"

Draco froze in his spot, swallowing hard, and forced a lopsided smile on his lips to help him gain composure. Slowly he turned around and found Harry standing less than three feet away from him, holding a red book in his hand. Draco noticed that Harry had untucked his shirt now, too, though the red and gold stripes were still tied around his neck.

"Charms. Not that it's any of your business."

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Just trying to make a conversation."

"Since when does that happen, Potter, a conversation between you and me?"

"Since tonight," he looked up challengingly at Draco. "Since we're the only ones here in the library and Madam Pince does not count as a good chat buddy in my opinion."

Draco scoffed and returned to the rack in front of him. "I believe I don't, either." He found a thin book which title sounded interesting and pulled it out of the rack.

Draco moved to the farthest end of the section that did not receive enough beam from the torchlight and squinted at the titles on the upper shelf. Harry followed and stood next to him, close enough that he could feel the boy's breath on the side of his face. Draco swallowed again. And then again. He knew he was failing. He gritted his teeth as his head snapped around toward Harry. He was ready to utter a snappy retort when suddenly Harry leaned forward and closed his lips over Draco's.

For a moment Draco forgot to breathe. Harry's lips were warm and soft against his own; Draco closed his eyes and kissed him back lightly. His lower lip was caught in between Harry's smooth ones and Draco let the other boy run his tongue over it. He pulled back afterwards and tried to control his breathing as he looked up into Harry's misty greens.

"Sometimes you do," Harry spoke softly before turning around on his heels and started to walk away.

In one swift motion Draco dropped the book on the floor and pulled Harry by the arm and whirled him around. He pushed Harry forward and slammed the boy against the wall, Harry's red book falling to the floor. "You better finish what you've started here, Potter."

Draco's mouth plunged into the neck that had been taunting him the whole night and his lips and teeth closed around a deliciously tanned spot. Harry tilted his head to the side and Draco's eyes fluttered closed as his tongue sipped on Harry's skin with such thirst that Draco never knew existed. He pushed his body hard against Harry's, eliciting a delicious moan from the boy's throat. Draco pressed one hand on Harry's left shoulder, keeping the boy pinned against the wall, while the other one crept over to the knot in Harry's tie, finally reliving the image he'd had playing in his mind all evening. His slender fingers started to work to untie the knot, and, to his delight, Harry's own reached up and helped him with the knot. Together they finished the job in seconds; soon enough Harry's tie fell to the floor, it's red and gold stripes glinting in the dark. Draco glanced sideways at it and smirked triumphantly to have defeated it eventually.

Draco pulled away from Harry's neck and ran his tongue smoothly over the bruised surface. Harry hissed, sliding a hand around Draco's waist, pulling the boy even closer to him while the other hand closed around Draco's free one and brought the slender fingers up into his mouth. Draco nibbled on a tender spot under Harry's chin and began trailing butterfly kisses along Harry's jaw line to Harry's ear. His heartbeat picked up at the sound of Harry's ragged breathing. His index finger was captured within the warmth of Harry's mouth and Draco could feel Harry's tongue enveloping every inch of it.

Releasing Draco's finger from his mouth, Harry placed his own curved finger under Draco's chin. With a gentle movement he turned Draco's face around toward his.

Draco managed to speak in between short breaths. "You've been planning this all night, haven't you?"

Harry nodded, a meaningful smile formed at the corners of his lips. "I thought by pretending to be asleep I could lure you into my cubicle and we could have a little... conversation in there," he said, trailing the curved finger down on Draco's throat. Once his hand reached Draco's neck he started to tug on the Slytherin's green and silver knot.

Draco smiled and kissed Harry softly on the corner of the boy's lips. "You almost did, too," he murmured, raising a hand to his neck to help Harry with his tie, which in seconds joined the red and gold stripes on the floor. "This is quite kinky in here, Potter. I definitely underestimated you."

Harry turned his face slightly to the side and caught Draco's lips in his again. This time Draco opened his mouth under Harry's and let Harry's tongue slide inside. Draco murmured an appreciation as he felt Harry's tongue wrapped around his.

"M-Madam Pince," Harry breathed out as Draco lowered him to the floor moments later. "She... she can come in here any second..."

"To join us?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry, a seductive purr escaping his lips. "Well, I really did underestimate you, Harry Potter."

Biting softly on Harry's lower lip, Draco's hand reached up to Harry's glasses to remove them. He placed them on the nearest shelf, on top of the books. Then his hand returned to Harry, this time popping open the rest of the buttons on Harry's shirt.

"Draco," Harry breathed. "I -- I really don't think we should -- oh god." Harry arched back and gasped as Draco raked long fingers over his naked chest.

"It's a wonder you can think at all. I didn't know you Gryffindors had any brains. Especially not during moments like this." As he said the word Draco ground his hips against Harry's. Draco smiled as Harry bit his lower lip to prevent himself from crying out in pleasure. "You asked for it, love."

He lowered himself on Harry and kissed the side of Harry's neck, flicking his tongue out in the process to finally get a real taste of it. Smiling against perfectly tanned neck, Draco secretly wondered if Harry took milk baths to make his skin smooth and rich like that.

Harry arched back and pushed his hips toward Draco's. "Yes, I -- yes."

Feeling Harry's hardness thrust up against his own Draco gasped a little, closing his eyes shut, though not a tint of arrogance escaped his voice when he whispered next: "Yes what?"

"Yes, I asked for it," Harry whispered back, a shade of urgency evident in his tone. He gasped loudly when Draco's hand closed around his crotch. "And..." he gulped, "and yes, I want more."

Draco bit on a spot of flesh on Harry's neck right underneath the one he'd bruised earlier, which was now turning purple. Their hips were now grinding against each other in slow rhythm. One that Draco knew was killing Harry. "I didn't ask if you do."

"Then I'm asking you," he said with the same tone of urgency as before, nearly choking. Suddenly Harry's hands crept over Draco's butt and gave it a little squeeze. "Please."

Hearing the request, Draco stopped kissing Harry and looked down into the brilliant emeralds that were staring back at him. Harry's hands continued to massage his butt as their hips ground against each other at a faster rate now. Draco began to feel sore from brushing against thick underwear. He wanted to get rid of his clothes and Harry's clothes and....

"Harry," he whispered, his eyes were glued to a pool of green. He stopped grinding and leaned forward to kiss Harry full on the lips.

Once they withdrew Draco stroke a hand softly across Harry's cheek. "There is a hidden cove along the left corridor outside the library, about ten feet out," he rose up reluctantly, not wanting to leave the warmth that Harry's body was providing, and knelt beside the boy. Harry rose up to a sitting position and stared at Draco, listening intently. "You won't be able to see it in the dark but if you reach out into the cove you'll feel a little panel sticking out on the wall. Push it once and the door will take you to a hidden corridor inside. Grab one of the torches from the outside corridor. I'll meet you there in two minutes."

Forget Flitwick and his bloody homework, Draco thought to himself as he walked back to his desk, adjusting his tie around his neck. A smile was forming on his lips as he gathered up his books and scrolls of parchments. He reckoned he could always bribe one of the Hufflepuffs later to finish the task for him. But the opportunity to spend the entire night alone with Harry Potter naked and sweaty like that would not come across his path twice.

Once he finished cleaning up the desk Draco stole a glance across the room at Harry. The boy had buttoned his shirt all the way up to his neck, the bruise that Draco had created perfectly covered under the collar. He smiled at the sight of Harry's tie that had been knotted underneath his Adam's apple again. Draco would love to have to untangle that knot again, then repeat the kiss all over, creating yet another bruise... on the other side of the neck this time, he planned. Harry put on his robes and latched the clasps on his chest, and then with a single nod and a faint smile directed at Draco he left the cubicle.

Walking about two feet behind the Gryffindor Draco saw Harry give a polite nod at Madam Pince. "I'm leaving my History of Magic research material in the cubicle, Madam Pince. As I said earlier, just in case I couldn't finish it tonight I'll return in the morning."

Behind her desk Madam Pince gaped in shock at the sight of the boys. She rose in her chair and towered over them. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Malfoy! You should have left this library thirty minutes ago!"

Draco waved nonchalantly at the librarian. "We got too caught up in our work that we simply forgot about time. After all, you're still here."

"You two should already be in bed by now!"

"Where do you suppose we're heading to, anyway?" Harry murmured soft enough so that only Draco could hear with a wide grin plastered on his face.

From the corner of his eye Draco saw a brilliant glimmer twinkling against the dark of the night. He turned to the source of the gleam and his eyes rested on the red and gold stripes dangling from Harry's deliciously tanned neck, taunting him.

-fin-