Part XV

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Part 15:   Finite Incantatem

The waiting seems eternity
The day will dawn of sanity
Is this a kind of magic?
It's a kind of magic
There can be only one
This rage that lasts a thousand years
Will soon be done

"It's A Kind of Magic", Queen



"Glad you came, Malfoy."

The Slytherin hid a flinch and looked around, trying to localize the source of the voice.  He scanned the old, dusty classroom. For a while, he wondered if it was true or if he had just imagined the voice. But just then, a figure materialized in front of him.  Draco blinked. Then, he shook his head tiredly.  Harry Potter was in front of him, wearing the black Hogwarts robe, with his Prefect badge shining lightly and laughing softly.

"Did I scare you?" The dark-haired boy asked after a while, his green eyes sparkling in the darkness.

"Still stuck on your childish games, Potter?" Draco asked, sarcastically, reaching for something lying on the floor at Harry's feet. A light shining fabric, an invisibility cloak.

As soon as Draco felt it under his fingers, his lips twisted in a sneer.

"Always hiding behind this cloak," his voice drawled. "Have you ever considered this is the first sign of unsatisfied voyeuristic tendencies?"

Harry simply smirked at the remark.

"Actually I had, and then I concluded that you could have liked the idea. Being watched secretly while you're fulfilling to your dirtiest fantasies..."

"Yeah, I could. But I need you here for them to work," he said, smirking meaningfully.

Harry laughed. And that sound was so perfect. The young Slytherin felt his head lighter for a while.

"Well, but I'm here now, am I not?" Harry said suddenly, his voice low and teasing. He took a step towards Draco.

And another.  Now Harry was right in front of him, and the blond watched his Seeker's hands moving to reach his robe.

Harry's hands moved on the black fabric. And then up, around his neck. After a while Harry drew back holding a green and silver scarf. A Slytherin scarf.

Draco had just the time to raise a delicate eyebrow questioningly when Harry's soft mouth claimed [for] his neck, gently biting his skin, then sucking it softly and teasingly. Something like a low growl escaped from the back of the Slytherin throat.

When Harry released him, he locked his green eyes with Draco's grey ones.

If he stare at me this way for too long I'll burn, the fair-haired boy thought unwillingly, while he observed the other boy slowly getting himself free from his robe, which lay abandoned on the dusty floor.

Harry was now in a loose jumper and in a pair of old jeans, too big for him.

This time it was Draco who attacked, his hands claiming the boy-who-lived's body hungrily, touching, caressing, teasing.  Harry moaned as pale slender fingers brushed against his hard-on. Draco began to unzip Harry's trousers.

"Mal... foy..." Harry whispered, while Draco's hand had found its way into Harry's jeans until wrapping around his hard cock, possessively.

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