It's Not A Love Potion (Drarry)

Chapter 12

Draco woke up slowly, feeling perfectly content, which was not something he ordinarily felt upon waking. In fact, when he normally woke up all he felt was a desire to either go right back to sleep or to drink a lake full of coffee, so contentment was a definite improvement.

He rolled over and the reason behind his feelings became apparent in a rush of memory. Merlin, but Harry had been amazing yesterday. Draco didn't think he'd ever wanted him more. It had been a nightmare trying to control himself when he knew that one word from him and Harry would let the entire wizarding world go to shit.

And Merlin, but wasn't that a thrill? Knowing that the most powerful person in the world would do just about anything for you? Having to be the one to stop him from ignoring the rest of the world in favour of making you feel good? Being able to dig your fingernails into his shoulders while he was fucking you slowly and deeply and passionately?

Draco felt his face heat up and ignored the aching in his cock in favour of watching Harry sleep. Not that he hadn't done enough of watching Harry over the last two months, but this was different. Harry was completely unguarded. And he was gorgeous.

Falling readily into now-familiar daydreams, Draco resisted the urge to touch Harry and just allowed himself to look.

He wasn't perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination; even under the influence of the potion, Draco could see that. But he couldn't help but feel twinges of – of arousal, of whatever side-effect of the potion it was that made his mouth tug up at the corners and warmth to bloom in his stomach – when his eyes traced the straight line of Harry's nose, the shadows of his eyelashes, the darkness of his eyebrows.

Eyebrows that apparently knew that they were being watched, if the frown gradually taking them over was any clue. Draco mourned the loss of his uninhibited Harry-watching, but still couldn't help but look forward to Harry regaining consciousness. His cock really was very hard.

Draco held his breath as Harry's eyelids flickered and tension slowly creeped back into his body. Any second now, Harry would wake up and smile at him and they'd kiss and get off and it would be wonderful and...

"Argh!" Harry's eyes snapped open and his hand shot out, and the next thing Draco knew there was a flash of light and a sharp pain in the side of his neck. He hissed and recoiled.

Harry's eyes widened. "Shit, I'm sorry!" he gasped, struggling to sit up. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine." Draco pulled away and rubbed at his neck.

"I just – bad dream – here, let me see." Harry reached out.

"I said it's fine," Draco said, batting Harry's hand away irritably. "Just a stinging hex."

Harry didn't give in. "Come on, let me look—"

"Just leave it, Potter," Draco snapped, good mood well and truly gone.

Harry stopped, arm still outstretched. He looked like he was going to say something else but after a several long moments, he flopped back down on the bed with a sigh.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Draco knew that he was overreacting, but he didn't like that Potter's first instinct upon waking was to hex him. And here Draco had been feeling safe and happy waking up next to Potter. What a joke.

He bet if it was Granger Potter was waking up next to, he wouldn't hex her.

Disgusted with his own thoughts, Draco followed Harry by falling backwards with a huff of irritation.

"Sorry," Harry said quietly. Draco rolled his eyes and said nothing. Why was he so upset about this? It wasn't as if he thought that Harry actually liked him. He'd known all along that Harry was meeting up with him just because he liked helping people. Perhaps with... recent events... Draco had forgotten that.