Disclaimer: No money is being made from this fan-fic. The boys are the property of JK Rowling and associates.
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at breakfast trying, desperately, to tune out the humming in his ears as Ginny spoke to him. He could only make out a few words through the haze that was his brain-- 'Halloween', 'dating', and 'Ball'. He looked over to the Slytherin table, spotting Draco, who appeared to be having problems of his own--if the sight of Pansy's exasperated face was anything to go by. Harry stared at the two of them, jealous of how close Pansy was sitting by Draco, but slightly encouraged when Draco continually brushed off her blatant advances and maintained an air of boredom.
Draco shifted his gaze from Pansy to the Gryffindor table and locked eyes with Harry. Harry felt as if his heart had forgotten to beat for a moment as his body grew warm and aroused. It felt like their gaze had been connected forever, when Draco was roughly pulled aside as Pansy forced him to look at her while she was talking. The look they had exchanged made whatever blood that was left in Harry’s head move south as he grew even more aroused. Fantasies crept through his mind as he stared down at his bowl of oatmeal, mindlessly stirring it with his spoon. He pondered how it would feel to have Draco's lithe and naked body wrapped around his own; how erotic it would be to feel the firm press of Draco's erection against his thigh. He almost drooled into his oatmeal as the fantasies became pornographic.
He dropped his spoon with a clang against his bowl as Ginny's voice cut into his thoughts.
He looked up asking, "What?"
"That was the third time I've called your name," she informed him, shaking her hair back and rolling her eyes. "We still have to discuss Halloween costumes."
Harry felt his stomach twist into knots. He couldn't take the constant haranguing any longer. "Ginny, I'm not going to ask you to the Halloween Ball. When I broke up with you last year I thought I'd made it perfectly clear that I just want to be friends," he said, speaking a little more harshly than he'd intended.
Tears gathered in Ginny's eyes, threatening to spill over, but she held herself proudly as she rose from her seat. "Very well, Harry. You don't have to be so rude about it," she spat and made a hasty exit.
"Harry," Hermione chastened, "that wasn't very nice of you. Couldn't you have put it a little more delicately?"
"No, Hermione. I wish she'd just leave me the hell alone. I wish you all would stop pestering me about every little thing. I'm tired, my head's killing me and nothing makes sense anymore."
Ron said nothing as he and Hermione shared a look. They got up and left Harry alone at their section of the table.
Harry put his face in his hands. What was happening to him? He felt like a real prat, but the constant drama was driving him bonkers.
"You know, Harry," a voice came up beside him, "you could save yourself a lot of trouble and just tell them."
He looked up. Luna Lovegood stood next to him, giving him a sad shake of her head.
"Tell them what, Luna?" he asked irritably.
"Tell your friends that the reason you're being a shit is because your brain is infested with mutated wrakspurts."
"What is a mutated wraksput?" he asked, trying not to laugh.
She gave him a pitying look and reached over to pat his shoulder. "I think you already know, Harry. You're exhibiting all of the symptoms." She drew back and returned to her seat at the Ravenclaw table.
Harry chanced another look across the Hall to the Slytherin table. There he was, Draco Malfoy, bane of his thoughts as of late. Their eyes met and then both hastily looked away.
Draco sat in the library, trying hard to read his Transfiguration text, but his thoughts continually returned to Harry and the look they had exchanged in the Great Hall. He finally shut his text and leant back in his overstuffed chair, giving himself over to pleasantly sinful fantasies. He saw himself as if from above, bending Harry's body nearly in two as he pushed down for a kiss. He could almost hear the slapping flesh as he imagined himself driving into Harry with quick, short thrusts, coming ever closer to climax. And then his eyes bolted open as an airy voice floated over him.
"You have a bad case of mutated wrakspurts, Draco Malfoy," the voice announced.
Draco looked up at the girl in shock for rudely interrupting his fantasies. "I beg your pardon?"
"I said, you have a bad--"
"I heard what you said," Draco snarled. "Who are you, exactly?"
"My name is Luna Lovegood," she replied dreamily.
"Well then, Miss Lovegood. Why don't you just flutter on back to la-la land and leave me alone with my studies."
"Very well, but I think you ought to tell him," she said, turning to leave.
Draco stopped her. "Tell who, what?" he asked, curious.
"Tell Harry Potter that you want to be his friend. I think you two would get on well together. He has a nasty infestation of mutated wrakspurts, too. Goodbye."
Draco settled back in his chair, wondering how the hell she knew his deepest, most hidden desire.
"Mutant wrakspurts, eh?" he wondered to himself. Maybe he would talk to Harry about it. It was as good an excuse as any to talk to him.
He scribbled out a note to Harry, rolled it up and headed to the owlery to send it before he could change his mind.
At lunch, an eagle owl dropped the rolled note onto Harry's plate. He picked it up and read:
It has been brought to my attention that we are in a similar predicament. Can you meet me after lessons today by the Black Lake. I need to speak with you about wrakspurts. Nod if this is acceptable.
Harry choked on a bite of sandwich as he read those initials. DM. Could the letter possibly be from Draco Malfoy? He looked over at the Slytherin table, coughing, to find Draco staring at him expectantly. He took a sip from his pumpkin juice, willing his oesophagus to relax and nodded at the blond.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry heard himself say. His mind was still fuzzy with Draco-centric thoughts, made worse by the receipt of the letter.
Harry stood by a large boulder on the shore of the Black Lake as the sun waned. He gathered his cloak around his body, waiting for Draco to show up. He thought back to the daydream he'd had during History of Magic earlier that day. In the dream, he and Draco were lovers and they met in secret in the Room of Requirement. Harry held himself above Draco’s naked body on the bed, pushing deep into his tight warmth.
Harry shuddered as his cock began to show interest in his thoughts; then quickly chased them away when the need to adjust his trousers became unbearable. It wouldn't do for Draco to find him aroused.
"Potter," Draco's voice floated down from the hill behind him.
"Malfoy," Harry nodded in acknowledgement, hoping that the wind was enough of an excuse for the blush that had spread over his cheeks.
Draco walked to stand beside Harry, looking out over the shadows drawn across the lake.
"So," Harry began. "What exactly did you want to talk to me about? I was surprised to get your note."
"Yeah, I suppose you would be," Draco said quietly.
Harry waited for Draco to continue. His arousal was growing again with his proximity to Draco. He pulled his cloak to cover his front.
"I want to know what you think about Lovegood. Is she daft? She says you and I are covered in something called wrakspurts. Do you know what she's talking about?"
"I don't have a clue what a wrakspurt is. That's just Luna. If you so much as look distracted, she claims some invisible creature must be the cause of it, like these wrakspurts. Is that all you want to know?"
"No. I want to know why she thinks we'd get on well together. That's what she told me."
"Hmm," Harry said, thinking back to his daydreams about Draco. He felt a shiver run the length of his spine, causing his cock to twitch. He shifted under the cover of his cloak.
"So, have any ideas?" Draco asked, remaining nonchalant.
Harry moved closer, looking Draco square in the eye. Draco's eyes widened as if surprised.
"Potter?" he asked, his voice a whisper.
Harry moved as if in a dream. He was drawn to Draco, almost magnetically. The urge to kiss him grew at the sight of Draco's eyes, dark and dilated in the shade of the evening. Harry stepped closer, leaving only a few inches between them. He was silent as he wondered what Draco's mouth would taste like, how it would feel. The scant stubble on Draco's chin drew his eyes up toward Draco's lips.
He was stunned when he suddenly found his mouth full of Draco's tongue. A whimper escaped him. Draco was kissing him! Harry felt as if his body had melted and turned into a puddle of goo. He lapped at Draco's tongue, savouring the sweet flavour that was purely Draco. It was ambrosia to Harry; he couldn't drink in enough. He circled Draco's waist with his arms as Draco returned the embrace, bringing them as close together as Harry thought possible, being fully dressed. A sense of completion filled him, warming him to his bones, despite the October winds. A heady rush passed through Harry's body as his fantasy came to fruition when Draco brought them even closer, parting Harry's legs with a thigh and rubbing his erection with a deliberate grind against Harry's belly.
When they parted lips, both were panting. Their breaths came quick, in visible puffs.
"I want you," Draco confessed, inclining his head to meet Harry's brow.
"Okay," Harry agreed, allowing Draco to steer him back against the boulder.
"Why didn't you say anything before now?" Harry asked, gasping as his breath was whisked away by another kiss. He felt dizzy as Draco's hand travelled lower to cup the bulge in Harry's trousers. His cloak flapped in the wind as storm clouds crowded the last ray of sun from the sky.
"I wasn't sure it would have gone over very well. We haven't been enemies much this year but we haven't exactly been on friendly terms, either," Draco explained, nipping and sucking at Harry's ear.
"Yeah, I suppose not," Harry gasped, his arousal straining against the elastic rim of his pants. A single raindrop landed on Harry's nose, right before the clouds opened up and began to pour freely.
"What do you say we continue this conversation somewhere inside," Draco suggested.
Harry's glasses were quickly crowded with drops of rain and he was growing wet. "Quidditch changing room?"
"Brilliant," Draco said, grinning.
Harry's heart leapt at the sight of Draco with his guard lowered, his hair bedraggled and his perfectly tailored robes rumpled and heavy with rain.
They ran across the muddy Quidditch pitch in the darkness of the storm. The only remaining lights came from the windows of the castle. The patter of rain and the hooting of the postal owls filled the air with a musical sound, accompanied by the squish of their shoes on the grass.
They arrived at the changing room, dripping all over the floor. Harry unsheathed his wand and lit several of the dozens of wall sconces with a quick Incendio.
He set his wand down on a tiled dividing wall.
Draco moved forward, unhooking Harry's thick wool cloak and letting it fall to the floor. He parted Harry's robes and fell to his knees before Harry's trousers.
"Oh, fuck," Harry exclaimed as his erection was pulled free of its bindings and was soon enveloped by the hot and wet mouth of Draco fucking Malfoy! Over the past month, Harry had imagined Draco giving him a blowjob several times, but to receive one was so much better than anything his imagination had ever come up with. Draco's lips were red and stretched as he held onto the base of Harry's cock and bobbed his head, apparently relishing the task. He yanked Harry's pants and trousers down to his knees with a tug.
"Fuck... fuck," was all Harry was able to vocalize as he grew ever closer to climax. He watched, in awe, as Draco swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, stopping to lick at the slit and then taking the whole of it back with slurping suction.
Harry combed Draco's damp hair with his fingers, cupping his head gently and letting his hips buck up into Draco's face. Harry grew nervous and excited as the pressure built in his belly. He wondered if Draco would let him come in his mouth; whether he would swallow, what it would feel like to come in such an intimate way.
Draco trickled his other hand down the inside of Harry's thigh, trailing it back up in a tickling stroke to Harry's balls and then further back, right into the crack of Harry's arse.
Harry came with a shout, giddy from the attention and amazed at Draco's abilities. He briefly wondered how many times Draco had done this, but banished the thought as Draco swallowed and cleaned the bits of come that hadn't made it down his throat with his tongue. He glanced up at Harry and smiled, holding on to the back of Harry's thighs and licking his now swollen and red lips.
Harry traced the lines of Draco's jaw, letting his fingers brush Draco's lips. He had done this, made Draco's gorgeous features rosy and debauched. He held out his hand to Draco, and helped him to his feet. He pulled his trousers back up over his hips and fastened them, then leaned in to kiss at Draco's abused, though still smiling, mouth.
"Would you like me to--" He gestured to Draco's trousers, wondering what it would be like to be on the other end of a blow job and if he'd be able to pull it off.
Draco shook his head. "Too late," he explained, taking his wand from his robe pocket and spelling it and his trousers clean. Harry pulled Draco into another kiss, tasting his own come, mingled with the taste of Draco's sweet mouth. It tasted bitter, but not terrible. He was definitely up to attempting to return the favour at some point, it had felt so good. Draco pulled away and said, his voice a bit raspy, "Merlin, Harry. You kiss so fucking well, I wish I could spend all day doing this."
"Are you serious?" Harry asked, doubting his abilities. He'd not had a lot of practise.
"Fuck yes, I'm serious. We ought to have these conversations more frequently."
"Thank God for wrakspurts," Harry said with a laugh.
They walked back up to the school, hand in hand, grinning all the way. Luna met them in the Entrance Hall.
"Well, it looks like you two have taken care of your mutated wrakspurt problem, but now you're covered in invisible fluffaluffs. I can smell them from here," she remarked, wrinkling her nose and turning to ascend the main staircase.
"What's a fluffaluff, Harry?"
"I've no idea."