Third Place - Angst

Harry saw Draco down the hall as the blonde was walking with his usual Slytherin cronies. He trailed behind for a bit, lost in the crowd, deciding to not advertise what he was looking for. Otherwise he may as well wear a huge red S after the Slytherins got done dragging his name through the mud calling him the Slytherin prince's slut. Finally he watched as Draco broke apart from the group and headed for his room as the rest of them went down the stairs to their dorm.

As Draco opened the door, Harry slid up and ran the back of his hand against Draco's arm as a bid for attention. The blonde turned and gave a silky smile.

"Yes?" he asked smoothly.

"Are you going to meet your friends right now?" Harry asked as he followed Draco into the room. He shut the door and watched as Draco put his bag down by the desk and started unbuttoning his robe.

"Why?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I just thought maybe that we could um, you know..." Harry made a slight gesture at the bed. Draco smirked and sauntered towards the Gryffindor. He pressed his face into the Gryffindor's neck and licked just under the ear.

"No," he said as he pulled back with a look of displeasure on his face. "We are showering. You still smell of him. It's disgusting." Draco turned and walked towards the armoire and began undressing completely.

Harry also began undressing and throwing his clothes on the floor. Draco looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"No wonder you look like a peasant if that is the way you treat your clothes." He reached into the armoire and pulled an object out. "This is a hanger, Potter. You have heard of these things, haven't you?"

"Of course, Draco. I'll get it later," Harry said and waved dismissively at the clothes slowly piling on the floor.

"Yes, but later you will be clean and then you will have to handle the dirty clothes as much as the clean. If you hang up your robe, my robe, put away your shoes and then dump the rest in the laundry bin now, than you won't have to worry about it later. Merlin, I begin to see why you have such atrocious grades. Is this the way you handle everything?"

Harry smiled. "Draco, has anyone told you that you kind of sound like a nagging mother?" He deliberately dropped one sock on the armchair near the door and the other on the floor. Draco pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.

"And has anyone told you, Harry, that you have a nasty tendency to hex yourself in the foot? Just because I am organized and able to dress well, finish my assignments and make it to class on time, does not mean that I am a nag." Draco's voice was tight but Harry heard no anger or malice. Harry shucked his pants and threw them towards the bed. They landed about half a meter too short. Draco, standing in just his underpants, black silk underpants, crossed his arms.

"Alright, now you're just being childish. No wonder you can only think of a mother as a term to call me." Harry just smiled and bent over as he pulled his own shabby underpants off. "Potter, you wreak havoc wherever you go. Why do you think Snape-," Draco's voice choked off and his face took on an icy exterior. "You're going to pick those up, Potter," he said coldly.

"I said I would," Harry said quietly. In that brief moment before the ice came down, Harry had seen a flicker of pain in those silver eyes. And Harry doubted it had anything to do with having been thrown across a room. If Draco felt even a small amount of the grief Harry felt after losing his own godfather, he decided he could afford a bit of compassion for the blonde. True, Snape was still with the living, but how awful it must be to know that he chucked you out of his life on purpose. To see him everyday and know that you were less than nothing in his eyes. It must be a terrible blow to the proud young man.

Harry walked up to the blonde and again ran the back of his hand against the other's arm. The hard silver eyes looked at him and Harry almost lost his nerve. "Did you go to Madame Pomfrey? It must have been-,"

Harry's hand was knocked away violently. "We will not ever discuss last night or this morning, do you understand, Potter?" Draco snarled. "Ever! And if you so much as breathe a word of it to anyone, you shall regret the fact that Voldemort didn't finish the job after killing off your pathetic parents!" Draco shoved past Harry and disappeared into the bathroom. Harry had felt the direct hit and almost volleyed back a similar attack. But Harry realized that he had started seeing past the pompous exterior Draco put on. He had glimpsed real emotion in those eyes. Sure, it was for his own plight and Harry doubted if Draco had ever empathized with anyone else. But still, Harry took hope from it and decided that perhaps there may be enough raw materials to build with. With a resolution in place, Harry strode in after his Supero.

What followed were, for Harry, some of the most interesting and fulfilling times of his life. He and Draco actually started to get along. It was rough and littered with insults and bickering, but what had started that late afternoon grew into a somewhat steady companionship. Draco was still a snarky bastard most of the time, but Harry noticed that he rarely attacked Hermione and Ron anymore. Instead, he would roll his eyes and walk away. It was strange at first, especially for Ron who had to learn not to bristle every time the Slytherin came near. But Draco soon realized that this new cordiality brought about a very accommodating Harry at night. And that was one of the few places they had total accord. In fact, it was in bed that Harry and Draco realized that Lustrum had ended when the blonde was met with resistance when he tried to enter Harry.

Harry again was reacquainted with his voices. But, happily, his voice of pride rarely had much to complain about. And Harry had gotten quite good at drowning out the insipid voice of the desire to please. In fact, he was able to have a few arguments with Draco without breaking a sweat over challenging a dominant. Of course, it all had to do with learning a small secret. Harry discovered that as long as Draco wasn't worked up about something, then the pheromones he exuded weren't strong enough to force Harry to do anything. So Harry got very good at arguing without pushing Draco too far. Ron said he reminded him of his Aunt Tilly who could wheedle anything she wanted out of her husband, Uncle Chester, without him even realizing what she was about.

Due to this little secret, Harry was able to spend increasing amounts of time away from Draco. He could practice Quidditch or hang out with his friends. If Draco got nasty, Harry had an answer or excuse for everything. In effect, Harry got to utilize his Slytherin side against the Slytherin. He had to admit it was a lot of fun and kept his mind sharp.

And Harry got something else out of the relationship, too. Better grades. Due to Draco's abhorrence of Harry's lazy attitude about school, Harry was literally ordered into doing assignments on time and actually accomplishing more than half-hearted studying. At first, Harry was beyond livid after he found himself at Draco's desk after being forced into it by the Supero's command. But, after realizing that getting his homework done in the hour between the end of classes and dinner allowed him a lot more free time without worry. And a majority of that free time was a benefit to Draco. The two boys argued, but ever since Draco realized that Harry's pleasure was his own, they were quite proficient in bed.

"Draco.... Please, more."

"How much more, Harry?" came the evil whisper.

"All of it. Please."

Harry cried out in ecstasy as his entire cock was wrapped in Draco's warm and talented mouth. Then the clever Slytherin began to do the thing with his tongue that drove Harry crazy. His heels dug into the bed and his hands grasped the headboard. He cried out again as Draco dragged his teeth along Harry's length and then licked at the slit.

"Please, Draco," Harry pleaded breathlessly. "Don't stop. Please."

"Oh no, Harry," Draco said as he flipped the Gryffindor over. "You know the rules. On your knees."

Harry quickly complied and rose to his knees as Draco prepared him. Not that he needed much more. Draco had had two fingers in the Gryffindor the entire time he had been swallowing down Harry's cock. Finally, Harry felt Draco enter and he fell onto his elbows in ecstasy.

"You like me inside you, do you?" Draco said breathlessly as he began their ritual.

"Yes, Draco," Harry answered appropriately. He pushed back as Draco pushed all the way in. He received a slap on the arse for that break in tradition. Harry knew that Draco wouldn't move until he heard the right words.

"Who's the only one that is ever going to be inside you, Harry?"

"You, Draco. Only you."

"Who's scent will you be covered in, Harry?"

"Oh gods! Yours, Draco!" Harry was desperate for him to move! "Please, Draco, please!"

"Who else is strong enough to have you, Harry?"

"No one, no one! Please, Draco!" Harry was nearly screaming in frustration. In the second that he was going to break the rules again, Draco finally pulled back and slammed into him. Harry cried out in relief and began pushing against Draco's thrusts.

Draco grabbed at Harry's hips and began his brutal assault. Harry reveled in it, clawing at the bedclothes and screaming into the pillow. Finally, Draco put his hand underneath and began stroking Harry's weeping cock. Again Harry cried out in delight as he began to topple over the precipice and fell into the blind rapture of release. It was made even better when Draco shouted above him and his warm weight toppled onto Harry.

Once Harry regained his wits, he began wiggling out from under Draco.

"Draco, you're crushing me, git."

"Mmm hmm," came the non-committal response. But the weight did shift and Harry found himself wrapped in strong arms.

"Draco."

"What are you on about?" Draco asked in a grumpy voice. "Can't you shut it for more than a minute?"

"I'm in the wet spot," Harry complained. "You try lying in it!"

"Circe, what a complainer! You didn't mind making that wet spot," Draco grumbled but he obligingly reached to the bed stand for his wand. After a quick spell, he tossed it back and then rewrapped Harry in his arms.

Harry smiled in contentment. Draco had started doing that a lot lately and Harry hoped it was a sign that the blonde may be starting to care for him a bit. Harry knew that he had begun to care about Draco. Draco was self-centered, egotistical, selfish, arrogant, spoiled, insensitive, and rude. But Harry had begun to notice some good qualities as well. Draco could talk to and charm anyone if he wanted to. He was rude, but if he deemed it necessary, he knew every etiquette rule there was and followed them fanatically. He was also extremely smart. Not just book learned but life learned as well. He could discuss any subject with anyone. Draco was also surprisingly funny. Harry had always thought that Draco's humor was at the sole expense of others, but that was not always the case. The Slytherin still insulted those around him and never failed to laugh at the downfall of another, but he also had a dry wit that would often leave Harry in stitches. Which seemed to amuse Draco, Harry noted.

The most surprising thing Harry had learned about Draco was his small overtures of kindness. Others witnessing it may not see it as that because Draco had learned how to wear the perfect aristocratic mask as he got older and could hide behind it at will. But Harry saw the acts for what they were. When a first year Slytherin had been so scared by Peeves that she feared moving about the castle alone, Draco had given her a magical torch that would light up the moment a ghost came round. He also talked the Bloody Baron into having a word with the girl so that she would become more acquainted to the non-corporeal among them. Of course, Draco said it had been because he was tired of hearing her cry about it, which she hadn't actually done, and that he didn't want it getting about that a Slytherin was afraid of a stupid ghost, which no one outside of Slytherin would ever know about due to the house's tightness with information. But Harry knew that it had been Draco's way of showing kindness and had been elated all day with the proof that Draco Malfoy could be human after all.

"Draco, when we go to Hogsmeade I want to have lunch with my friends," Harry said quietly. There was silence behind him and then a small shift let him know that Draco was still awake.

"Who says we, or should I say you, are going to Hogsmeade?"

Harry smiled. He had learned that if Draco only replied with a question then he was going to agree, he just didn't want to appear that he was. It wasn't for the first time that Harry thanked his years with the Dursleys for teaching him how to watch, interpret, and anticipate other people's behaviors. It surely had come in handy with dealing with an autocratic Supero.

"I thought you were going to burn all my clothes and get new fancy threads? At least that's what you've been threatening all month," Harry answered. "But if not, that's a relief to me because I doubt I'd look good in the poncy clothes you prance about in."

"They are couture, Potter. But I understand if your plebeian mind couldn't grasp that," came the rejoinder. "Fine, strap your feed bag on with your friends. I shall be quite happy to be rid of you. The demands you put on my person are quite tiring, you know. All day I hear, 'Oh Draco, I need you to shag me'. 'Oh Draco, I can't take a shower without you inside me'." An elbow jammed into his belly had him stop the falsetto voice.

Suddenly, the strong arms around Harry became a vice and squeezed him until he was sure his head would pop. "Draco," he gasped, "I...apologize." The arms relaxed and Harry drew in deep breaths of beautiful oxygen.

"Thought you might," Draco said smugly. He reached down for the blankets and brought them over the two of them. Resettling the arm around Harry. "Now shut up and go to sleep." Soon only the sound of light snores and heavy breathing could be heard.

Indago - Chapter 39

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