“Can I speak with you out in the hall, Mr. Malfoy?”
Draco dabbed the wet cloth against his mother’s forehead, washing away the sheen of sweat that had gathered there, and nodded. He gently removed his hand from his mother’s weak grasp and bent down to place a kiss on her cheek before standing up from her bedside. She mumbled something under her breath, but it was incomprehensible in her current state, gripped as she was by fever dreams. He knew that all too soon her body would reverse polarities and her teeth would chatter together as chills swept through her slight frame.
Draco steeled himself and turned towards the door, bracing for the bad news that he could feel was about to be delivered to him. The mediwitch’s face was schooled, but she reached out and placed what he assumed was supposed to be a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, but there’s nothing else that I can do for her. The best we can do now is keep her as comfortable as we can and make sure that she has supportive people around while her body attempts to fight through this. She may not appear aware of her surroundings, but I’m sure that she is soothed by your presence. She always seems much less distressed when you’re nearby.”
“Surely there must be something that we can do! We’re magical, for Merlin’s sake!” Draco’s voice cracked as the panic he’d been trying to suppress for the last week started to fight its way up his throat.
“I’ve tried everything at my disposal, but—”
“What about things not at your disposal?” Draco interrupted the witch’s platitudes.
“Well... an ashwinder egg may help to break the fever, but after the head of the Department of Magical Transportation had those sexual misconduct charges filed against him by his undersecretary, the Ministry cracked down on any ingredient associated with Love Potions, so ashwinder eggs have become a highly controlled substance. It would take at least three months to file all the necessary paperwork and have the committee approve the request, and, frankly, your mother doesn’t have that much time.”
Draco could feel the calm visage that he wore for the rest of the world start to slip, and he dropped his face into his hands, willing the mediwitch to just stop talking already.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy.” The hand on his shoulder gave a consoling squeeze, but he shook it off. Draco looked up just in time to see the look of pity on the mediwitch’s face before she disappeared in a crack of Apparition.
Draco drew in a few shaky breaths and steeled himself to re-enter his mother’s bedroom. But then a distant memory flitted through his mind, and he gasped. He longed to go back to his mother’s side, but instead he turned on his heel and raced down the hall to the study.
For the first time in a week, a beam of hope was lit inside him.
Harry’s arms gave out with one particularly sharp thrust of Draco’s hips, and his face was suddenly buried in the pillow. He turned his face to the side and yanked the suffocating item out from under him, not caring where it landed as Draco continued the deep drives into his arse. He could feel his partner’s bruising grip slide away from his hips a moment before his cheeks were pulled apart, which he knew would allow Draco an unobstructed view of his cock sliding relentlessly in and out of Harry’s arse, claiming him.
“Fuck, Draco,” Harry managed to gasp as he reached between his spread legs and took his own cock in the firm grip of his hand, matching his strokes to Draco’s. “Your cock feels...ugh...so amazing. Fuck! Fuck me harder, please.”
The thrusts paused and Harry groaned in disappointment. But then he heard Draco spit. Just before feeling a drop of wetness hit the sensitive nerves along the rim of his arse, his groan morphed into one of raw lust. Draco could just cast another Lubrication Charm, but his use of spit always felt dirty and base and downright fucking hot. His dick resumed its motion, thrusting in and out of Harry’s arse as Draco’s left hand released its hold on Harry’s cheek and slid down. The soft skin of his thumb pressed deep circles onto Harry’s taint, massaging his prostate from the outside as the head of his cock pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves on every thrust inside.
Harry groaned and released his cock to reach down and take hold of his testicles, rolling them in his hand as he felt his orgasm start to tingle at the base of his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and panted into the bedsheet as Draco propped himself over him. Draco gave a firm thrust followed by a swivel of his hips, which were flush against Harry’s cheeks, and the grinding on his prostate was all that he needed before he felt his muscles seizing and he came, his spunk spilling out through the tight squeeze of his fist around the head of his cock.
There was a strangled cry behind him and then he felt Draco’s orgasm hit, along with the warm rush of semen splashing inside him. Harry let his knees slide down the bed and he collapsed onto his stomach, enjoying the weight of Draco on top of him. It was a moment before the foggy post-coital bliss lifted and he felt a different kind of wetness trickle down his shoulder blade and pool in the dip of his spine, and he realized that Draco was crying.
Draco rested his forehead against Harry’s back for a moment before he lifted his head and slowly pulled his softening prick from Harry’s arse. He rubbed soft circles around Harry’s contracting hole, soothing the stretched muscles back into place, before he leaned over and grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast a couple of gentle Cleaning Charms over themselves and the bedsheet.
Harry rolled onto his back while Draco replaced his wand on the bedside table. He opened his arms wide, wrapping them around Draco’s back and stroking softly along his side as Draco cuddled up beside him, his head resting on Harry’s pectoral muscle.
“Talk to me, Draco. What did the mediwitch say?”
Draco shifted closer, bringing his arm up to Harry’s chest and twirling his fingers in the hairs there. Draco was silent for a few minutes, but Harry didn’t push him. He knew that Draco was just working up the courage to tell Harry what had happened this afternoon with the Healer.
“It’s not good...I think she’s going to die, Harry.”
Harry placed a kiss on the top of Draco’s head as he felt fresh tears fall onto his bare chest. Harry used to think that Draco was cold and unfeeling, because he always seemed so...contained. But what Harry had come to understand was that Draco just handled his feelings differently. Where Harry would rage and yell and want to trash things—anything to get the feelings out—Draco would go still. He would quarantine his feelings inside of himself until the danger had passed. Harry now realized that Draco’s apparent calm in times of crisis was nothing of the sort; he would hold himself still as if the emotions, if let loose, would shatter him apart.
After a few moments, in which he let Draco’s tears continue to fall and tried to impart what strength he could to him through his touch, Draco sniffed and continued. “Our only hope is an ashwinder egg, which, of course, are tightly controlled. By the time we can get one through official channels, it will be far too late.”
“What about unofficial channels?” Harry asked.
A small smile crossed Draco’s lips. He used to think that Harry was a frightful do-gooder, but he’d come to learn that Harry was not opposed to breaking the rules when the situation called for it. That was one of the reasons why they work so well together.
“I did have one thought. My family used to own an ornament that featured a frozen ashwinder egg, but my father sold it during the war to fund Voldemort’s war chest.”
“Are you sure the buyer didn’t turn it in when the Ministry amended the law and made them a regulated ingredient? The fines for being caught with one are astronomical. I’m not sure it would be worth it for a trinket.”
“I’m sure they would have if they’d known about it. You see, it was sold to a Muggle, so they wouldn’t actually know anything about the law,” Draco explained.
“Wait. You’re telling me that your father—Lucius Abraxas Malfoy—sold one of his precious possessions to a Muggle ?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up at this startling news.
“I’m sure he despised doing it, but my understanding is that the Muggle was offering the highest price. These trinkets have become somewhat of a novelty among the Muggles and are highly coveted, but nobody in the wizarding world seems to have taken much notice of them.”
“Well, that’s great then!” Harry responded excitedly. “We’ll buy it back from him. If you need any help, money-wise, I’m more than happy to put some of those galleons wasting away in my vault at Gringotts to good use, and—”
“He won’t sell,” Draco cut off Harry’s growing optimism. “I contacted him as soon as the idea came to me. Took me an age to figure out how to use one of those telephone thingies, but I finally managed to get in touch with him and he refused to sell it back to me. I told him that price is no object, but he said no way. I even offered to just buy the ashwinder egg, which is just the little trinket inside the main sculpture, and he still refused. Said that one without the other was pointless.”
“What!” Harry’s tone was spiked with outrage, “How can he just say no?! A person’s life is at risk here!”
“Harry,” Draco let out a soft sigh against Harry’s chest, “I obviously couldn’t tell him anything about that. He’s a Muggle. He doesn’t know what the ashwinder egg really is. He just thinks that I’m...well, I don’t know what he thinks my goal is, to be honest. After he turned me down several times, he informed me that he would not be changing his mind and that we were done, then he hung up on me. I tried calling him back several more times, but he told his secretary to reject my calls.”
They lay together in silence for several moments, gentle fingers stroking skin in soothing patterns, the only sound in the room their soft breaths and the light patter of raindrops on the window pane.
Harry’s voice broke the silence, “Well, if he won’t sell it, then we’ll just have to steal it.”
Draco’s head shot up and he looked at Harry, shock written plainly across his face. Harry’s shit-eating grin lit up his face and it was so infectious that Draco couldn’t help but feel his despair lift a little as he returned a small smile back at Harry.
“How could I ever have forgotten that I am dating a bloody Gryffindor?” Draco smirked.