Draco knew he had his fair share of enemies, former Death Eaters and most Light Wizards. He had got off too easy for the liking of most and he was a traitor to the rest. He had to say though, that Theodore Nott was the last person he had ever expected to attack him.
Actually, that was not true when he thought about it.
"Imperio," Theo hissed at him, wand boring into Draco's back as he felt a heavy mist settle over his mind.
If he could have then, he would have fought it but alas, Draco had been victim to the Imperius Curse far too many times already. It wore on you after repeated exposure, tearing down your resistance to it.
"I'll get two owls with one stone by using you, Malfoy," Theo said, caressing Draco's cheek with his wand. "You got my father sentenced to The Kiss, you and Potter both. If Potter had not defeated the Dark Lord, he would still be alive now, and if you had not told those revolting lies about him forcing you to... My father would never have done those things!"
He would have... He did.
"If you hadn't made everyone believe he was some sort of sick pervert then he might have only got some years in Azkaban, instead of..." Nott paused to breathe and collect himself. "It's your fault he's dead, Malfoy. You and Potter."
It was his own damned fault, Theo!
Draco was outraged at Theo for discounting what had been done to him, more outraged than he was frightened at what would be done to him. The man's father had all but raped Draco during the war, Imperiused him and had him do things that he still felt like Scorgifying himself for when he could not seem to shake the memories.
"Malfoy, I want you to pursue Potter. I want you to make him fall in love with you, and I want you to fall for him too. Fuck him if he wants you to, let him fuck you. Charm your way into his heart, love him, care for him. You'll go about your life as usual, except now it's Potter you fancy. Refrain from finding yourself a bride, from carrying on your line. The only one you want is Potter. And when I feel he's fallen as far as he can for you then I'll release you."
Draco found himself at the Ministry after work. He made his way to the the Auror Department and scanned the desks for messy black hair. It took him a moment but eventually he spotted Potter, spotted Harry, alongside a head of ginger hair.
As he approached the appropriate desk, a number of heads turned. Smiles morphed into frowns, memos were momentarily forgot and wands were within reach in the event that he did something malicious.
"Malfoy?" Potter asked quizzically. "Did you need something?"
“I want to ask you something,” he said. “In private, if that’s all right.”
“You’re persistent, you know that?” Potter smiled, as he stood on the front steps of the Manor. “I concede. I’ll go out with you. Just tell me one thing, what possessed you to send me such a... vulnerable letter? Who’s to say I wouldn’t have run off to the Prophet or somewhere else with it?”
“You aren’t that sort of person,” Draco smirked. “And you happen to have a great dislike for gossip.”
“Ha. So, are you going to invite me in?” Potter asked.
Damn it, Potter! It’s not me! I don’t want this.
Draco inclined his head and stepped aside to allow Potter in.
“I was about to have dinner,” he said. “Would you like me to have the elves set the table to accommodate you?”
“Dinner at the Manor,” Potter mused, as he took in his surroundings. “A bit heavy for a first date, don’t you think?”
“I’d recommend a restaurant for us to go to but the elves have almost finished cooking,” he said, watching Potter with false wonder, as if he was truly pleased at the man’s being here.
“I reckon they’d have a fit if we just left them with all that food,” Potter said. “All right, have a place set for me.”
“I didn’t think you would actually-”
“Waste not, want not, Malfoy,” Potter said, as he shrugged off his outer robe.
A house-elf promptly apparated into the entrance room and took Potter’s robe from him as Draco began to lead the way to the dining hall.
“Harry!” Draco said, as he stormed into the room at St. Mungo’s.
Draco had been at work when someone walked into the room gossiping about a very public brawl between some Aurors and Dark Wizards. There were no details as to why the brawl had begun and if there were, he had not heard them once it was mentioned that Harry had been taken to St. Mungo’s.
“Malfoy?” Harry asked in surprise. “It’s the middle of the bloody day, don’t you have work?”
“What happened?” he asked. “Are you all-”
“I’m perfectly fine now,” Harry said. “I’m only still here because of protocol-”
“Malfoy, what are you-” Weasley began.
Draco had forced the ginger into silence when he leaned down and kissed Harry, startling both men. The kiss was everything it should have been if any of his emotions were real, desperate and urgent. Harry’s lips were unresponsive against his.
This isn’t happening. How long does Theo intend to keep me like this?
“Malfoy...” Harry breathed, touching his fingers to his lips, his eyes wide in shock.
“Sorry, I- I shouldn’t have- But you gave me such a bloody fright-”
“Again,” Harry said quietly, before licking his lips. “Kiss me again.”
“What?” Draco breathed.
“What?” Weasley squeaked.
“Are you deaf or are you daft?” Harry smiled, touching Draco’s face. “Kiss me.”
And Draco did.
“I think it’s absolutely charming that Harry and Draco can put aside their past and see one another as they are,” Granger said, after Weasley muttered something about being unable to believe that he and Harry were still an item.
“I just don’t see how Malfoy was the first one to do it,” Weasley whispered too loudly.
I wasn’t. I haven’t, at least not to the point where I would date Potter. Weasley is the only one here with a shred of sense.
“It was unexpected but it happened that way,” Granger said. “Deal with it.”
“I didn’t even know Malfoy was gay before this...” Weasley grouched.
Because I’m not! Damn it, Weasley, look into this some more!
“I can hear you Weasley,” Draco said, as he finished helping Harry set the table. He smirked at the way the man sputtered in response.
Draco glanced up at Harry as he gave the man’s cock the first lick, held his gaze for the second, third, fourth. He swirled his tongue around the head and then took it into his mouth, sucking and bobbing as he worked his way down.
Memories of Nott, Theo’s father, rose in his mind as he laved at Harry’s cock but he could ignore them. They were not important to his task.
Potter, I don’t want this... Theo, for fuck’s sake, let me stop!
“You are absolutely gorgeous, you know that?” Harry said, holding some of Draco’s hair out of his face.
"That's right Malfoy," Nott breathed. "Suck my cock like you want it. Sound like you want it."
Draco complied, sucking deeply on Theo's father's cock and moaning. He massaged the thickness with his tongue and bobbed his head eagerly, taking in as much as he could. Part of him knew he did not want this, that he hated it, that he was sick to his stomach at what was happening and furious at himself for being unable to stop it. He knew it, knew it deep in his bones, and still he carried on. He pulled away from Nott's cock and licked it from root to tip, licked it as if it was a treat he could not get enough of, sucked on Nott's balls as if he were worshipping them and then went back to swallowing Nott's cock like a man starved.
“Shit, you really- ah, know what you’re doing,” Harry said, as he slid his hand to the back of Draco’s head and began to pump his hips shallowly.
Draco opened his mouth wide and relaxed his throat in welcome.
No. No, no, no, no, no. Potter, STOP!
Nott took him by the back of his head and began to fuck Draco's throat, ignoring the way he gagged so that Draco had to force his throat to relax and will himself not to puke. Saliva built up in his throat and added to the squelching noises in the room until Nott was balls deep in his mouth and grinding in place, nothing but a lusty groan riding on the air. Draco whimpered and moaned as he tried to catch his breath and failed. He was suffocating but he was enjoying it, or at least he was supposed to be. That was what Nott had told him, that Draco liked sucking his cock, that he loved to have his throat fucked raw.
He did not like it. He did not like it at all. He hated it in fact.
“Stop, not yet,” Harry panted, as he squirmed away. “I want... I want to fuck you.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Draco smiled, crawling up Harry’s body and kissing at him until his lips touched soft lips.
Harry moaned into Draco’s mouth and rolled them over, grinding his hips so that their cocks slid together.
“Hurry up and stretch me, Harry,” he whimpered, spreading his legs.
“So needy,” Harry teased, before conjuring some lube and slicking Draco’s entrance. A finger pressed slowly into him and he writhed beneath his faux lover.
Damn it, Potter...
Another finger joined the first, and then another. Draco was bucking and begging by the time Harry’s finger pulled out of him, leaving him empty and aching for more. He was supposed to want more. He was supposed to want Harry.
“Want you,” he breathed, touching Harry’s face.
“Yeah?” Harry smiled, as he settled himself between Draco’s legs.
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“Say it again,” Harry whispered against his lips.
“I want you, Harry,” he murmured.
Harry kissed him and pressed forwards, his cock breaching Draco’s body.
Potter, you idiot- You bloody fucking idiot! Stop it! Stop, damn it! Get off of me! Get OUT of me!
”Tell me you want my cock, Malfoy,” Nott demanded, pounding into Draco ruthlessly.
“I want your cock,” he said, even as his arse burned.
“Tell me you love it,” Nott said, after burying himself inside of Draco.
“I love it,” he repeated.
“Then ride me, Malfoy,” Nott instructed. “Ride me until your arse is dripping with my cum.”
And Draco did, because he had to.
Draco came with a cry, his hips bucking and cock pulsing hot onto his chest. Harry ground his hips as Draco clenched around him and then kissed him as if he meant it. Salazar, Harry meant it. He kissed Draco with fervour and he fucked him with it as well, hips pumping rapidly until he tensed and moaned and pulsed his orgasm.
Just hurry and get off of me, Potter, please...
“Draco,” Harry said over breakfast.
Draco looked up and raised a brow. Harry looked absolutely smitten.
Don’t say it.
“I love you, you know,” Harry said, eyes flickering down to his plate nervously.
“I know, and I love you too, Harry,” he grinned, leaning across the table and kissing Harry’s lips.
It was an average day when Draco saw Theo again. He was at the Leaky Cauldron with Harry, Granger and Weasley. Theo walked up to them with a mischievous smile on his face and his wand in his hand.
“Draco,” Theo said, his voice coming from behind. Draco turned towards the voice of his master. “Finite.”
He was relieved of his task and of his feelings for Harry, for Potter. The mist in his mind cleared and he was again in the forefront, except it had been too long since the spell had been cast on him. Draco did not know what to do from here. It felt foreign to him.
He did not have to think about it for very long though, because he fainted from the sheer force with which he had returned to himself.
Draco opened his eyes to a white room. He wanted to move, to sit up but he was not sure if he could, if he was supposed to.
“You’re up,” someone said.
He turned his head and saw Harry, saw Potter, seated in chair that leaned against the wall beside his bed. It was a few feet away from him.
Potter looked tired.
“Was any of it real, Draco?” Potter asked weakly.
Memories of the past year ran through Draco’s mind.
“No,” Draco said, his voice cracking and tears burning in his eyes as he was finally able to say it. It felt too good to be true, to have Potter finally hear him.
He was shocked at how overwhelmed he was to hear himself speak his own words.
Potter ran a hand through his hair, the way he did when something really troubled him or when he was deep in thought.
“Did you even... want me in the slight-”
“I didn’t,” he interrupted, as he sat up in the bed. “Not any of it.”
“All the times that we-” Potter inhaled sharply, his eyes blown with realization. “Oh Godric... Draco, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I-”
Draco flinched when Potter stood and made a move towards him. Merlin, he was shaking. It was as if his brain could not grasp the idea of his being able to audibly decline Potter’s advances and physically stop him this time around.
Potter froze and watched him a long moment before stepping back and mumbling another apology. Draco did not look but he thought Potter might have been crying when he left the room, cheeks as wet as his own.
Theo must be pleased with himself.