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Potions Professor Pursuit

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Stretching and yawning, Harry woke gently from a pleasant dream. The morning sun was streaming through the window and Harry felt refreshed and well rested. Though he had been hoping the night before would end with some sort of physical gratification, Harry was surprised that he found falling asleep in Draco’s arms nearly as fulfilling.
He opened his eyes to see that Draco was no longer in the room. Not that it was unexpected. The other man must have left before the sun rose in order to sneak back to his own quarters unnoticed. Harry never realized how cold and lonely his bed could feel. Now that he had a taste of real companionship in bed, as opposed to the temporary pleasure of a quick shag, Harry wanted to live that way always. His need for Draco’s company was moving beyond a physical attraction. Just the thought of seeing him at breakfast gave him a pleasant warmth and feeling in his chest he couldn’t quite describe.
Anxious to see Draco again, Harry forced himself out of bed and readied himself for the day.
By the time he arrived for breakfast, Draco was already midway through his meal, deep in conversation with Minerva. As Harry walked down one of the aisles, he kept his eyes on the blond. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, as usual. However, he wore, not his customary black, but a pale blue silk three button polo shirt and light tan pleated trousers. Sunday morning breakfasts had been becoming more casual over the years, and some of the professors followed suit.
Harry couldn’t help notice the way Draco’s eyes reflected the color of the shirt. They appeared brighter and more lively than usual. As Harry approached, those eyes flashed his way. Almost quicker than Harry could see, Draco’s right eye winked at him. He could feel himself blush, wondering if anyone else saw.
“Good morning Mr. Potter,” Minerva smiled when he walked past. “Mr. Malfoy and I were having an interesting conversation about some rather unorthodox practices going on.”
“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows, coming to a stop. “What sort of practices?”
“Between you and Mr. Malfoy.”
Harry’s face went white.
Seeing the expression on Harry’s face, Draco joined the discussion. “Yes, I was telling her about how you invited me to speak to your DADA classes.”
“Oh,” Harry breathed out. He didn’t really believe Draco would have been calmly telling McGonagall about their affair. But he was relieved to hear it. “Well, I thought hearing about the Dark Arts from someone who--” He looked down at Draco.
“Practiced it?” Draco finished for him.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” Harry protested.
Draco smiled. “I know. That’s why I said it.”
“The students found it very informative,” Harry told Minerva. “There were students who seemed to find the dark magic attractive. After Draco’s presentation, they changed their minds.”
McGonagall nodded. “That was an excellent idea. I had a feeling the two of you would be able to put aside your differences. Dare I say, you seem to have become friends?”
The men looked at each other. Harry felt as though his attraction to Draco was written across his face.
“Yes, we have,” Draco said, nonplussed by Minerva’s observation. Still gazing up at Harry, he added, “You’d better sit down before you miss breakfast altogether, Potter.”
“Uh, yeah. Excuse me.” Harry nodded to McGonagall and took his usual seat. He spooned out some oatmeal for himself and began to eat when he saw Draco get up and leave the Great Hall. For the remainder of breakfast, he wondered why Draco left early. Harry wanted to follow him, but figured it would look suspicious if he left before he finished eating. Shoveling the oatmeal in as quickly as possible, Harry finished and left after a couple of other professors had gone.
He bounded up the staircase straight to the sixth floor. Draco’s door was locked and nobody answered when he knocked. He stood at the door for a moment, disappointed. Figuring that Draco had gone down to the dungeons, Harry considered going there. His desire to see the Potions professor, to touch and kiss him, was nearly strong enough to send him searching all over the castle.
That thought gave Harry pause. He’d never been one to do the chasing. The choosing, yes. But not chasing.
He decided instead, to go back to his own chambers. He had to pull himself together. Clearly, he couldn’t spend all of his free time pining after Draco, who obviously had his own schedule to keep.
When he reached his room, Harry got out his favorite quill and a book of parchment. He’d begun writing for pleasure a few years back when someone suggested he write his memoirs. Whenever he’d sit down to it, his mind wandered to what ifs and ways he would have liked his life to go. Giving up on his autobiography, Harry took to writing stories about a fictional teenage boy and his adventures. The stories were usually character and relationship driven, as the boy’s parents were alive, as well as extended family. Harry often fantasized that it was his own life that he was writing about, with much happier scenarios.
As he sat at his desk, quill in hand, a new adventure came to mind. Unlike the action he normally wrote about, Harry thought it was time his character had a romance. And unlike Harry’s attempts at teenage romance, this boy’s relationship would be successful. The only thing he wasn’t sure about was whether his character would fall for a girl, or a boy.
Hours later, Liam, Harry’s fictional teen, was about to ask a certain blond to accompany him to a school dance. Harry had written the blond in great detail--from the sparkling grey eyes and alabaster skin, to the full pink lips and willowy figure. Deciding no one else would ever read the tome, Harry named the object of Liam’s desires Drake. He went back into the story to fill in the spaces he had left blank to write ‘he’ or ‘she’.
Now that he was committed to telling a gay romance, Harry was excited. He’d never written anything particularly naughty, but he found himself visualizing the things the boys would do. He’d read some books with graphic sexual details, and though they had been heterosexual in nature, he found them arousing. He wondered if writing them would have the same affect.
Just then, a knock came on the door.
Damn it, Harry grumbled to himself. Just when I was getting to the good parts.
He stood, adjusting himself slightly from the affects of his daydreaming and answered the door. An older version of the boy in his story stood before him.
The blond smiled. “What have you been doing in here? You look flushed.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Just thinking,” Harry grinned. “Close the door and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Actually, I came to get you for supper,” Draco replied, yet still closed the door. “I didn’t see you at lunch. Aren’t you hungry?”
“Starved,” Harry answered and pulled Draco into a kiss.
Harry’s warm lips covered Draco’s cool ones, warming them instantly. Their tongues wrestled playfully while they pushed closer up against one another. It didn’t take long for Harry to harden in his trousers as the afternoon’s activities kept him on the verge.
“Mmm, what were you thinking about all day” Draco asked into Harry’s open mouth.
“You,” he replied. “What else?”
Moving his hands down Draco’s body to the front of his trousers, Harry massaged until he felt Draco rise to the occasion.
“What about supper?”
“I’ll eat you instead,” Harry breathed, unbuckling the belt holding up Draco’s trousers. As he unzipped them, he kissed up and down the slender pale neck before him.
“We can always get the House Elves to bring us something later,” Harry suggested. He continued to disrobe Draco, who didn’t protest.
When Draco stood nude, Harry undressed himself quickly, pulling his trousers and pants down together, and his shirt over his head all practically at the same time.
“You’re spectacular,” Harry remarked as he eyed Draco up and down. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone so much in my life.” He caressed the side of Draco’s face with the back of his hand.
“I wish I felt I deserved that.” The blond looked away.
“You do deserve it, and more. To me, you’re perfect.”
“Then take me, please,” Draco begged. He pulled Harry toward the bed. They toppled over in a tangle of limbs, kissing.
Slowly, Draco tugged Harry on top of him and spread his legs, cradling Harry’s body between them. He ground his hips forward.
“Please,” he requested again.
Harry smiled. “You’re perfect. And you deserve to be loved perfectly. I’m still learning. I’ve never been in love,” he explained.
Harry shook his head. “But I care for you more than any other lover.”
“What about the Weasley girl?”
“Well, I do love Gin. But, not that way. I never felt about her the way I feel about you.”
“Then show me,” Draco grinned.
Sliding down, Harry licked a trail to Draco’s cock and sucked at the throbbing head. Groaning loudly, Draco arched his back, forcing his cock deeper into Harry’s mouth. Accommodating the nonverbal request, Harry took the length as far down his throat he could stand without gagging. While one hand fondled the bollocks, the other slid further down. Harry took a moment to spit on his finger, then gradually pushed it into Draco’s arse.
“Oh, fuck,” cried Draco. “Oh, that’s good.”
Teasing with his tongue, Harry steadily sucked up and down while his finger kept a similar pace in and out. His other hand wandered down to his own cock. The sounds Draco made added to Harry’s arousal, his desire to cum becoming more urgent. He picked up his pace.
“Yes, faster Harry. I’m close.” Draco leaned forward a bit and reached down, rubbing his fingers lightly over Harry’s chest. He caught his nipples, pinching and scratching.
Harry curled the finger in Draco’s arse, searching for the spot that would bring the most pleasure. A long grunt told him when he found it.
Writhing beneath Harry, Draco panted, “I’m gonna fucking cum.” He held his breath for a moment, then called out Harry’s name as he exhaled.
Just as the sweet and salty goodness hit Harry’s tongue, he felt his own orgasm begin.
When it was over, Harry leaned back on his heels. He watched as Draco’s breathing evened out, then grabbed his wand from his discarded trousers to perform a cleansing spell on them.
“Now I’m really starving,” Harry laughed. “Let’s go down to the kitchens and get something to eat.”
Nodding, Draco dragged himself out of bed and dressed.
Just as they were ready to leave, a knock came on the door. Harry answered it, curious as to who would be calling on him.
“Professor McGonagall,” he started.
“Good evening Harry. I noticed you were absent from lunch and supper earlier.”
“Um, yeah. I lost track of time working on something. Everything is fine.”
“Okay. I just thought I’d check on my way up to my chambers.”
“Thank you. But it really wasn’t necessary,” Harry smiled nervously.
McGonagall nodded. “Must be my maternal instincts. I suppose it isn’t really necessary to check on Draco then, ” she chuckled. “He wasn’t at supper either.”
Stepping out from behind the door, Draco greeted the Headmistress.
“Oh, Draco. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Harry quickly came up with an excuse. “Draco here was helping me with another lesson.”
“I see,” McGonagall said. She looked back and forth between them. The expression on her face was largely unreadable to Harry.
“Um, we were about to go to the kitchens to get something to eat,” Harry informed her.
“I’m sure the house elves would happy to serve you,” Minerva said. Harry got the impression that the Headmistress was displeased.
“Or we could quickly apparate to London for a bite,” Harry offered. “If you prefer we not bother the house elves.”
“Of course not. Please feel free to use the kitchens.” She paused, then asked, “Is there anything else?”
“No, ma’am.”
The disappointed look was back. “Then I’ll take my leave of you boys and allow you to get your supper.”
They all bid one another good night, and Harry and Draco made their way down to the kitchens.


“Master Harry Potter!” a small elf called out when she saw him. “What can Minke do for Master Harry and Master Draco?”
“We’d just like a little something to eat, Minke. We missed supper. Is there anything left over?” Harry asked.
“Oh, no! Left overs would never do for Masters Harry and Draco. Minke will whip up something new.”
“Really,” Harry said. “Anything will do.”
Minke took them each by the hand and led them to a small table to sit.
“Please, Minke would loves to serve Masters.”
“Something tells me if we don’t sit and let her serve us, she’ll get reinforcements to force us to sit,” Draco joked.
“All right,” Harry agreed.
When they sat down across from one another, Harry got a good look at Draco’s hair. He giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Draco asked.
“I didn’t see that side of your hair before. It’s coming out of the ponytail. It’s kind of sexy,” Harry grinned.
Suddenly Harry gasped.
“Bloody hell, your shirt is inside out.”
“What?” Draco looked down at himself. “Shit. Do you think McGonagall noticed?”
Harry recalled the look on her face earlier. “Maybe. Usually you’re so neat and tidy. Now that I look at you, you do look like you’ve been having a hump.” He grinned widely.
Draco, in turn, gave Harry the once over. His hair was disheveled a bit, but it normally looked that way. He shrugged. “Your hair is a little messy.”
“And . . .”
“What? What is it?”
“Your shirt is buttoned wrong. You have an extra hole at the top and your collar is crooked.”
Harry held out the tails of his shirt and saw that they were indeed uneven.
“It’s not that noticeable on you,” Draco said, then realized how it sounded. “Um, I mean, on that sort of shirt.”
“Because I usually look unkempt?” Harry quirked an eyebrow.
“No, I didn’t say that. That’s not what I think,” Draco stammered.
Harry smiled and reached his hand across the table to place over Draco’s. “I know. But it’s still true.”
“You’re not unkempt. You’re . . . carefree.” Draco bit his lip. “I like that about you. Most people consider me too fussy.”
“I prefer the word sophisticated,” said Harry. “I like that about you. I guess opposites really do attract.”
Minke approached the pair with two plates she was barely able to handle. Each plate was filled with chicken stew and dumplings. The aroma of the hot food wafted up, making Harry’s stomach growl. He had almost forgotten he was hungry, he was so engrossed in conversation with Draco. Now that food was in front of him, he picked up a fork and eagerly began eating. As he shoveled in a second forkful, he glanced up to see Draco doing the same. He had been expecting to see him daintily taking small, proper bites. When Draco noticed him watching, he froze mid-chew.
“What?” he asked with his mouth mostly closed to keep the food in.
Laughing, Harry told him, “For some reason, I was surprised to see you eating as heartily as me.”
Draco swallowed his mouthful. “You seem to be under the impression that being unusually tidy makes me a girl. Like most of what I do, I eat like any other man.”
“Oh Draco, you are most definitely not like any other man,” Harry said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” Harry smiled.
The plates were cleaned in short order leaving them full and satisfied.
“Thank you very much Minke,” Harry called to the house elf.
“Oh, it’s Minke’s pleasure to serve Master Harry Potter. And Master Draco Malfoy as well,” she bowed. “Minke shall bring some pudding.”
“I don’t think I could eat another bite,” Draco said. “It was wonderful, as usual.”
The pair thanked the elves once more and left the kitchens. Once out, Draco scanned the hallway for anyone else, then removed his shirt.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked, stirred by the sight of Draco’s bare chest.
“I can’t very well walk around with my clothes inside out.”
“Oh. Right,” Harry replied, a touch of disappointment in his voice.
“Really Potter? Game for another go already? I swear, you are the most oversexed man I’ve ever known.”
Feeling slightly insulted, Harry proceeded to re-button his own shirt. “Forgive me for finding you irresistible,” he said mockingly. “I’ll try to control myself.”
Draco grabbed onto his arm as Harry tried to walk away. “I was only kidding. I guess I’m not very good at it. I’ll try to be more thoughtful.”
“No. Don’t change for me. I like you the way you are. I was being oversensitive.”
Figuring no one would be wandering around the kitchens at night, Draco chanced a small kiss. “Thank you for finding me irresistible.”
Harry closed his eyes for a moment before his confession. “I can’t help it.” He laughed. “In fact, I almost ran about the castle looking for you after breakfast.”
“Yes. I went up to your quarters but you weren’t there,” Harry explained. “I wanted to see you so badly that I considered searching for you.”
“I was only in the dungeons helping a student.” A smile grew on Draco’s face. “If you recall, I did come looking for you. I find you equally irresistible.” He kissed Harry again.
They began walking up the staircase to their chambers. Rather than stop on the second floor, Harry continued to walk up.
“Night cap?” Draco questioned.
“Um, I thought I’d go talk to McGonagall,” answered Harry. “Would it be all right if I told her about us?”
“It’s fine. Are you sure you want to do that?”
Harry sighed. “I’m not certain, but I think maybe she suspected something.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No. I’ll talk to her alone if you don’t mind.”
Draco nodded, glad to be off the hook, and left the staircase at the sixth floor. Harry continued up to McGonagall’s office.




Knocking on the Headmistress’ door, Harry began to get nervous. He wasn’t sure why he was there. He only knew their last conversation didn’t sit right with him.
“Harry, what are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I wanted to speak with you, if it’s not too late.”
McGonagall stepped aside. “Of course. Come in.”
Anxiously, Harry walked inside and sat in the chair across from the desk. He looked around the office. Things were a little different from when it had been Dumbledore’s office, but generally, it was familiar and comfortable.
“What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to talk to you about earlier.”
“Oh?” McGonagall wasn’t giving away anything.
“I thought maybe you noticed that Draco and I have been spending a lot of time together.”
McGonagall sat quietly and nodded once.
“And, um, earlier, when you came to my room . . .” he blushed, having a much harder time talking about it than he anticipated. “Draco and I . . . well, we’re . . . dating.”
“And you felt the need to hide it?”
“I haven’t told anyone else. Not even Ron and Hermione. I wasn’t sure what you’d think. You seemed to notice something was going on and disapproved.”
“Not disapproval, Harry, disappointment. I had hoped you’d be honest with me.”
Harry cast his eyes downward. She was right. He shouldn’t have lied about working with Draco.
“Harry, I would never judge you.”
He looked up. “So, you’re okay with me and Draco seeing each other?”
She smiled. “It’s not for me to decide who you see. Can I tell you a secret?”
Harry nodded.
“Dumbledore was gay. I’ll bet you didn’t know that.”
“No ma’am.” He glanced up at his former mentor’s sleeping portrait, then back at McGonagall.
“I don’t think he would mind me telling you. Especially under the circumstances. I also think you’ll find that people are more accepting than you believe.”
“But you won’t say anything to anyone, will you?”
“Of course not.”
Harry looked up at the portrait again. If he had known about Dumbledore when he was younger, he may have been able to ask his advice. The confusing feelings going on in his teens probably would not have taken so long to sort out if he had had some guidance.
“Thank you Minerva.” He stood and went to the door. “Draco and I will be discreet.”
“Remember, Harry, my door is always open,” the Headmistress told him as he left.
He made his way back to his chambers with a spring in his step. Now that he had told his secret to McGonagall, Harry was almost ready to tackle his best friends. He decided to invite them to visit soon, so he could tell them. At the very least, it would stop Hermione from trying to set him up on dates with her friends.