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Becoming Harry

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Harry felt his head tingling when he laid the dirty plates on the kitchen counter. He knew he would regret the decision to postpone doing the dishes, but was a bit too tipsy to care. Harry smiled when he thought about Ron, who was completely wasted. He had to lean on Hermione and Luna to make his way to the dormitories.

There weren’t many who had decided to finish their education at Hogwarts. Kingsley had encouraged Harry to sharpen his qualities. It was only for the best. He didn’t mind though. Besides spending time with his dearest friends, he was allowed to share a dormitory with Draco Malfoy, his former nemesis.  They became fast friends, despite their hostile past.  Malfoy wanted to bury the hatchet and so did Harry.  Even Ron reluctantly accepted Malfoy’s presence, but that was mostly because of his girlfriend, who would send an icy glare his way every time he opened his mouth to sneer.  Although there were still whispered prejudices, Harry had made clear to everyone who had the guts to oppose Malfoy that they would have to deal with him first. 

“Potter, need some help?”

Harry turned around too quickly and because of the overflow of wine, he lost his balance and fell towards the floor. Two strong hands grabbed him, preventing his face to become a floor-pizza.

“Wow, you’re fast,” Harry sniggered clumsily as Malfoy put him back onto his feet. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“I think it’s time for you to grab some wood, Potter,” Malfoy said, visibly trying the best he could to suppress a snort.  He took a chair out of a corner and gently pushed Harry onto it.

“That’s better,” Harry said, still giggling. “What can I do for you, Malfoy?”

“I’ve had a wonderful evening,” Malfoy said softly. “Your friends are really nice.”

“They are your friends, too,” Harry corrected, who wished the world would stop spinning. “You’re one of us now.”

“Thanks to you,” Malfoy said and Harry saw a faint blush creeping up his neck. “You saved my many ways.”

Now it was Harry’s time to blush. Malfoy was giving him too much credit. Yes, he had defended him in court, but Malfoy didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life in prison. He couldn’t let that happen after Malfoy refused to kill or unmask him at Malfoy Manor.  He deserved to start with a clean slate. That was probably why he was chosen to become Head-Boy. McGonagall believed in second chances. So did Harry.

“Merlin, I need some sleep,” Harry mumbled as he nearly dropped off the chair. Malfoy grabbed him again and his smile was so sincere, so full of happiness, that it sent a jolt of affection towards Harry’s heart.

“Maybe a Hangover Potion first?” Malfoy suggested.

“No, better not,” Harry said softly.

“Why not?”

“Because I won’t have the guts.”

“What guts?”

“To do this,” Harry whispered and he leaned forward, pressing his lips on Malfoy’s. Harry pulled back quickly, trying to read his friend’s expression, but it was blank as always. For a moment, he thought that he had ruined their friendship, but soon Malfoy pulled him close, answering Harry’s advances.

Harry had dreamed about this many times. His right hand had made extra hours, pampering his lust until it was sore.

Nothing could compare to Malfoy’s tongue, exploring every part of his mouth as his hand slipped into Harry’s pants. It was quick, it was messy, but that’s what first times were for: easing the pressure for the second time.

Soon they were on the floor, panting in each other’s arms, their trousers still at their ankles and the strong smell of sweat and sex roaming around in their nostrils.

“Thanks so much, Malfoy,” Harry said sleepily as he listened to the calming sound of Malfoy’s heartbeat.

“For what?”

“For completing me.”

Harry bit his lip, uncertainty suddenly washing over him.  Going all Bella Swan over his...his boyfriend was a bit too pushy.  And possibly a bit too melodramatic. And possibly...

Harry’s thoughts were vaporised by the deep shade of crimson visible on Malfoy’s cheeks.

“That’s very sweet of you, Potter,” Malfoy said, a bit hoarser than usual. “But we’re definitely not going to sleep on the floor.”

“What are you saying?” Harry mumbled, sleep slowly overwhelming him. “Are you inviting me into your bed?”

“I really want to find out how deep I can complete you.”

Harry pressed his lips onto Malfoy’s for a chaste kiss, too sleepy to consummate the lingering arousal in his lower body.

“First thing in the morning,” Harry whispered. “Now I really need to sleep.”

“I’m not sleeping on the fu... darn floor,” Malfoy hissed.

“Then you have to carry me,” Harry said, images of a lovely dream already mingling with reality.

“Potter, this is absurd...”

“Carry me,” Harry mumbled. “Please...”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Harry.”

A rush of affection raced through Harry’s body as he was lifted from the ground.  After years of aloofness, even when being friends, he’d  become Harry.  He sighed happily, finally allowing the urging sleep to consume him.