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ladyvaderOk m'mates, we all know the drill here....
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Humbled: Part 4:
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy or any of the characters mentioned in this little work of fan-fiction. If I did, do you 'really' think I'd be online right now? Hell no, I'd be out clapping myself on the back, drinking Champagne and generally feeling smug over creating such amazingly great characters and being a genius in general.
Category: Humour/Romance/Smut
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17 (In time)
Warnings: Boy on Boy action... Flee li'l homophobes. Fleeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Summary: A spell, intended to teach Draco Malfoy a lesson in humility, backfires when it strikes both him and Harry Potter. Smut and Silliness ensues.
Humbled: Part 4: Shut The F*** Up and Ki... Mmm.
(Previously on the 'Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy gettin' it on Sometime Soon' Show)
Draco caught his breath as Harry pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "I promise." He whispered and Draco found himself slipping into the deep green gaze before everything went black as Harry leapt out the window, dragging Draco with him as they fell, tumbling into the waiting darkness.
Draco Malfoy was, to his great pride, one of that lucky sort of people who know precisely what to do in a crisis -- Panic, and let everyone else take care of you.
Sadly, Draco found himself unable to indulge his usual practice of shrieking like a five year old exceptionally girly girl faced with a creepy crawly of any type as he found himself lulled into an odd sense of safety by the tingling of his lips, the odd timbre of his companion's voice as they'd tumbled out into the night, and the odd flashes of colour before his eyes. Green, black, gold, black, green, black, green, gold, green, black, black, black...green.
The odd permeating sense of calm dissipated as Draco realised that the slowly ebbing golden glow came from the flare of the Gryffindor dorm lights, punctuating their exit into the night. Green (Potter), black (night), Potter, night, Potter, night, green, black, green, black.
The gold was disappearing faster and faster which, quite reasonably, Draco assumed meant that they were plummeting closer to the ground, still helpfully masked by night. As Draco opened his mouth to finally release his trademark girly scream, his eyes began to roll back wildly (for maximum melodramatic effect) and he looked about him into the steadily increasing night as it prepared to swallow both he and the infernal 'Pratt Who Lived'. But as his eyes rolled they caught onto the bright, astigmatic green gaze of the Pratt himself.
Harry's eyes shone like the dreaded Aveda Kedavra curse itself as he thrust upwards and out with the arm not wrapped around Draco, his wand brandished high like a lightning rod, threw his head back and shouted, "Accio Firebolt!"
There was a sudden whooshing sound and for a moment Harry flailed, arm flexing madly in the now whistling breeze that passed them as they hurtled yet closer to earth before, with a bone-jarring jolt, they stopped. Draco's eyes widened at their sudden halt, glancing upwards to where Harry now clenched white knuckles about the much polished handle of his Firebolt, leaving them both dangling, gratifyingly stationary, in the air. Air rushed from the young Slytherin's lungs in a great burst of relief, catching suddenly in his throat in consternation as he caught the evil look on Harry's face. The Gryffindor smirked, having noticed his rival's now significantly relieved and trusting grasp on his robes, a somewhat terrifyingly 'Fred and George' grin appearing on the brunettes face.
"S'long Malfoy," He purred and released his death grip on the Slytherin.
Malfoy fell into the darkness below.... for all of six feet before landing with a loud 'ooof' and a string of exceptionally ingenious curses all aimed at everyone's favourite Gryffindor.
Harry chuckled, swinging his legs up to loop carelessly about the handle, his other hand relaxing to let him dangle, grinning like an overly smug, mischievous Bat with constant bed hair, directly in front of a now very, very pissed off and naturally vindictive Malfoy.
Bad idea. Bad 'bad' idea.
Grabbing Harry by the afore mentioned constant bed hair that, Draco suddenly and sickeningly remembered, was in its current state of disarray due to his own flexing, fevered fingers during Harry's little 'distraction.'
The softness of said hair was the reason for what followed, Draco rationalised. Had it not been such an appalling reminder of the humiliating debacle mere minutes previous to this moment then all he would have done was yank on the annoying git's hair till he fell. What he did, however, was fist his hand into the dark, silken locks and twist, pulling hard enough to make Harry squeak with pain and drop gracelessly to the ground beside Malfoy, whose hand still residing in Harry's hair, twisted upwards, letting gravity do its worst as Harry yelped again.
"Hey!" Harry yelled dragging himself to his feet and glaring through slightly watering eyes at the now, and likely forevermore, smirking Draco Malfoy. "What the fuck did you do that for, you fucking ferret, I just saved your fucking ass, you asshole!"
Draco, if possible, smirked more. "My, that was eloquently put Pot-head, but need I point out that you also dropped me on the ass you purport to have saved?"
"Purport to have saved???? Fuck you, I just saved both our asses and if I had to do it again I'd drop from a hell of a lot higher!!" Harry's eyes brimmed with righteous fury and for a brief moment, Draco could almost believe the past hour had not happened. Or at least he could until he heard Hermione's shrill scream floating to them on the breeze.
"There!! Down there! They're outside, quickly come on!"
Draco shuddered at the rabid tone of desperation in her voice, turning to Harry as the Firebolt flew obediently to his outstretched palm.
"C'mon Potter, we've got to go! It sounds like your rabid pet Mudblood's on route and bringing friends so let's..." The rest of Draco's sentence fled his mind as a now highly irate Potter hauled Draco up onto his toes and into his face for the second time that evening.
"Take. It. Back." Harry snarled, teeth a white slash of colour in his dark face, his lips having pulled back in fury as Draco stared, dumfounded by the ire in that emerald gaze.
"Get the fuck off me Potty," Malfoy spat in return, hating the odd surge of his blood. "We don't have time for the appropriate awe struck thank-you's for your 'amazing' death defying rescue of poor little me so let's just take our fucking hands off my fucking robes and try a little personal space now, huh? Because... Oomph!"
Draco found himself pressed hard against the walls of the Gryffindor tower for the second time that night with the well toned, nicely trim figure of Harry Potter trying to imbed himself into his skin in abject fury and before Draco had a chance to squelch the thought, he realised the sensation was more than not wholly unpleasant. This, naturally, had all the effect of a red rag to a bull whose wife left him for afore mentioned red rag and needs a caffeine fix.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING SCARFACE BEFORE I SHOVE THAT BROOMSTICK UP YOUR ASS!" Draco yelled into the already screaming face of Harry.
"FUCKING TAKE IT BACK YOU FUCKING UNBEARABLE TWAT! YOU'VE GOT NO FUCKING RIGHT TO TALK THAT WAY ABOUT HERMIONE AND I SWEAR TO MERLIN IF YOU CALL HER A MUDBLOOD JUST ONE MORE TIME I'LL..."
Both Harry and Malfoy stopped, realising that neither had heard the other through their little screaming match, both breathing hard, chests pushing against each other in unison as they each paused, panting.
"If you call Hermione a Mudblood again, Malfoy, I SWEAR I'll make you live to regret it," Harry wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue and Malfoy pressed closer, hissing as his eyes followed the movement,
"Oh, you'll do what Potter? Be my best friend and never leave my side? I think that would be fucking punishment enough for life, but then it's not going to be a problem because if you don't back the fuck off I'm going to hurt you so bad that stupid scar's going to look like a love bite."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Really."
"You think?"
"I know."
For the supposed two greatest rivals of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the previous few lines of dialogue seemed somewhat sadly lacking. However, as each was muttered with a rapidly decreasing decibel level and increasing proximity level, I think it's fair to say we can forgive the boys for this slip in their usual witty repartee for the sheer enjoyment factor of seeing the two practically whispering into each others mouths, gazes locked, voices no more than soft, harsh murmurs.
"I fucking hate you, Potter."
"Feeling's mutual, Malfoy."
"So?"
"So what?"
"So're you going to do something about it?"
"I plan to."
"Good."
"Good."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Potter."
"Malfoy?"
"Shut the fuck up and ki.... mmmmmmmmm."
Harry obeyed Malfoy with a speed and willingness neither boy lingered over, both whimpering as Harry's tongue shot out to silence Draco by running its tip across the open seam of his lips, seeking entrance more than silence. Draco's blood roared in his ears, his inner 'Malfoy' doing the same in his head, pointing out that no spell or distraction had spawned this abomination, and that mewling like a kitten into Harry's mouth would only quicken his downfall. Fortunately for Draco, his hormones were on standby, taking over his motor functions to the point where even he was surprised to find his hands inside Harry's shirt and clenching on his firm ass. Harry whimpered loudly as Draco shifted his hips, suddenly lifting him the extra inch or so that would allow Harry to pin him to the wall with his pelvis and nothing more, leaving Harry's hands free to roam at will.
"Mmm." Harry squeezed Draco's ass. "Fucking...Mmm....yeah.... mmmm.... I... Fucking... Hate ... You.... mmmm. ... GOD, yeah...mmmm."
Draco wouldn't have paid much attention to these mutterings around his throat, ears, collarbone and any other area Harry happened to be munching on, but the little jabbing thrusts of Harry's now somewhat more noticeable pelvis against his own, punctuating each word, caught and held Draco's focus.
"Hmmmmm, interesting, Potter, really," He ground out, proud of his voice being steadier than the Gryffindor who was currently occupied with laving Draco's pulse point with his tongue, before groaning loudly as Draco wrapped his arms tightly about his shoulders giving him the needed lift to wrap his legs about the hero's waist. "Such a surprise after all, being that I hate you, too, but here's an idea... how about you shut the fuck up and suck my tongue, ok?"
Malfoy gave Harry a 100 points for Gryffindor for being a quick study, groaning as the dark haired boy proceeded to do exactly as he was told, growling as he nipped lightly at Draco's tongue before soothing the slight hurts with his own soft tongue. He deducted them a moment later as Harry ground his hips and Draco's into the wall behind them, causing Malfoy to whimper loudly enough to pervade the lust filled haze on his mind.
Slowly, as in the Great Hall, Malfoy's brain shifted the focus from his feelings to his actions. Suddenly Draco could picture himself clearly, hard up against the wall, legs wrapped tightly about the Gryffindor's waist, arching and moaning into his thrusts like one of Potters god-damned 'female' groupies.
Snarling, Draco tore his mouth from Harry's, dropping his legs down so he could push Harry from him in disgust, not realising the strength of Harry's grip on him as they both toppled to the ground.
Harry was the first up, rolling away swiftly and pulling himself to his feet with the same dazed expression from their first encounter during dinner. He blinked at Malfoy, running his fingers clumsily over his now swollen lips, the gesture angering Malfoy at the blatant reminder.
He stepped forward to yell, punch, kick, do 'anything' that didn't involve kissing when a large group of Gryffindors (Ron and Neville still absent) headed by Hermione, rounded the corner.
"Oh shit," Both boys muttered, glaring as they realised they'd spoken in unison.
Harry grabbed his Firebolt and cloak from where they'd fallen, forgotten in the heat of the moment, straddling his broom and shooting Malfoy a quizzical look.
"Look, I can't promise not to kill you and thanks to whatever the fuck spell we've got on us I can't even promise not to kiss you, though I'm going to do my damndest." Here he shuddered and Malfoy scowled. "But the way I see it is this; you hate me, I hate you, but I'll take you over the hormone crazed mob any day." Draco glanced at the rapidly approaching crowd.
"Ditto," He muttered, flinging himself astride the broom, behind Harry. "Now get us the fuck out of here."
"With Pleasure." Harry grinned over his shoulder and, much to his disgust, Draco found it reassuring.
Within seconds the two boys were shooting back into the night sky as roughly 25 Gryffindors all screamed in frustration.
"Damn it!!!" Hermione yelled, stomping her foot inelegantly before sighing deeply. 'I wonder if we could have stopped them if we hadn't stopped to watch them grinding on that wall awhile before rushing down to catch them?' She pondered, before recalling said grinding, the image of Harry's body thrusting Draco's into the stone behind them as their joint moans and whimpers drifted up to the sighing and frustrated onlookers crowded at the Dorm windows, making her blush with bliss.
"We'll get them," She promised herself fervently, again replaying the moment when Draco flung his legs up about Harry's waist and shuddering with pleasure. "We'll get 'em good."
TBC...
Read Ficcie click on linky
No Read Ficcie no click on linky
;)
Humbled: Part 4:
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy or any of the characters mentioned in this little work of fan-fiction. If I did, do you 'really' think I'd be online right now? Hell no, I'd be out clapping myself on the back, drinking Champagne and generally feeling smug over creating such amazingly great characters and being a genius in general.
Category: Humour/Romance/Smut
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17 (In time)
Warnings: Boy on Boy action... Flee li'l homophobes. Fleeeeeeeeeeee!!!
Summary: A spell, intended to teach Draco Malfoy a lesson in humility, backfires when it strikes both him and Harry Potter. Smut and Silliness ensues.
Humbled: Part 4: Shut The F*** Up and Ki... Mmm.
(Previously on the 'Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy gettin' it on Sometime Soon' Show)
Draco caught his breath as Harry pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "I promise." He whispered and Draco found himself slipping into the deep green gaze before everything went black as Harry leapt out the window, dragging Draco with him as they fell, tumbling into the waiting darkness.
Draco Malfoy was, to his great pride, one of that lucky sort of people who know precisely what to do in a crisis -- Panic, and let everyone else take care of you.
Sadly, Draco found himself unable to indulge his usual practice of shrieking like a five year old exceptionally girly girl faced with a creepy crawly of any type as he found himself lulled into an odd sense of safety by the tingling of his lips, the odd timbre of his companion's voice as they'd tumbled out into the night, and the odd flashes of colour before his eyes. Green, black, gold, black, green, black, green, gold, green, black, black, black...green.
The odd permeating sense of calm dissipated as Draco realised that the slowly ebbing golden glow came from the flare of the Gryffindor dorm lights, punctuating their exit into the night. Green (Potter), black (night), Potter, night, Potter, night, green, black, green, black.
The gold was disappearing faster and faster which, quite reasonably, Draco assumed meant that they were plummeting closer to the ground, still helpfully masked by night. As Draco opened his mouth to finally release his trademark girly scream, his eyes began to roll back wildly (for maximum melodramatic effect) and he looked about him into the steadily increasing night as it prepared to swallow both he and the infernal 'Pratt Who Lived'. But as his eyes rolled they caught onto the bright, astigmatic green gaze of the Pratt himself.
Harry's eyes shone like the dreaded Aveda Kedavra curse itself as he thrust upwards and out with the arm not wrapped around Draco, his wand brandished high like a lightning rod, threw his head back and shouted, "Accio Firebolt!"
There was a sudden whooshing sound and for a moment Harry flailed, arm flexing madly in the now whistling breeze that passed them as they hurtled yet closer to earth before, with a bone-jarring jolt, they stopped. Draco's eyes widened at their sudden halt, glancing upwards to where Harry now clenched white knuckles about the much polished handle of his Firebolt, leaving them both dangling, gratifyingly stationary, in the air. Air rushed from the young Slytherin's lungs in a great burst of relief, catching suddenly in his throat in consternation as he caught the evil look on Harry's face. The Gryffindor smirked, having noticed his rival's now significantly relieved and trusting grasp on his robes, a somewhat terrifyingly 'Fred and George' grin appearing on the brunettes face.
"S'long Malfoy," He purred and released his death grip on the Slytherin.
Malfoy fell into the darkness below.... for all of six feet before landing with a loud 'ooof' and a string of exceptionally ingenious curses all aimed at everyone's favourite Gryffindor.
Harry chuckled, swinging his legs up to loop carelessly about the handle, his other hand relaxing to let him dangle, grinning like an overly smug, mischievous Bat with constant bed hair, directly in front of a now very, very pissed off and naturally vindictive Malfoy.
Bad idea. Bad 'bad' idea.
Grabbing Harry by the afore mentioned constant bed hair that, Draco suddenly and sickeningly remembered, was in its current state of disarray due to his own flexing, fevered fingers during Harry's little 'distraction.'
The softness of said hair was the reason for what followed, Draco rationalised. Had it not been such an appalling reminder of the humiliating debacle mere minutes previous to this moment then all he would have done was yank on the annoying git's hair till he fell. What he did, however, was fist his hand into the dark, silken locks and twist, pulling hard enough to make Harry squeak with pain and drop gracelessly to the ground beside Malfoy, whose hand still residing in Harry's hair, twisted upwards, letting gravity do its worst as Harry yelped again.
"Hey!" Harry yelled dragging himself to his feet and glaring through slightly watering eyes at the now, and likely forevermore, smirking Draco Malfoy. "What the fuck did you do that for, you fucking ferret, I just saved your fucking ass, you asshole!"
Draco, if possible, smirked more. "My, that was eloquently put Pot-head, but need I point out that you also dropped me on the ass you purport to have saved?"
"Purport to have saved???? Fuck you, I just saved both our asses and if I had to do it again I'd drop from a hell of a lot higher!!" Harry's eyes brimmed with righteous fury and for a brief moment, Draco could almost believe the past hour had not happened. Or at least he could until he heard Hermione's shrill scream floating to them on the breeze.
"There!! Down there! They're outside, quickly come on!"
Draco shuddered at the rabid tone of desperation in her voice, turning to Harry as the Firebolt flew obediently to his outstretched palm.
"C'mon Potter, we've got to go! It sounds like your rabid pet Mudblood's on route and bringing friends so let's..." The rest of Draco's sentence fled his mind as a now highly irate Potter hauled Draco up onto his toes and into his face for the second time that evening.
"Take. It. Back." Harry snarled, teeth a white slash of colour in his dark face, his lips having pulled back in fury as Draco stared, dumfounded by the ire in that emerald gaze.
"Get the fuck off me Potty," Malfoy spat in return, hating the odd surge of his blood. "We don't have time for the appropriate awe struck thank-you's for your 'amazing' death defying rescue of poor little me so let's just take our fucking hands off my fucking robes and try a little personal space now, huh? Because... Oomph!"
Draco found himself pressed hard against the walls of the Gryffindor tower for the second time that night with the well toned, nicely trim figure of Harry Potter trying to imbed himself into his skin in abject fury and before Draco had a chance to squelch the thought, he realised the sensation was more than not wholly unpleasant. This, naturally, had all the effect of a red rag to a bull whose wife left him for afore mentioned red rag and needs a caffeine fix.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING SCARFACE BEFORE I SHOVE THAT BROOMSTICK UP YOUR ASS!" Draco yelled into the already screaming face of Harry.
"FUCKING TAKE IT BACK YOU FUCKING UNBEARABLE TWAT! YOU'VE GOT NO FUCKING RIGHT TO TALK THAT WAY ABOUT HERMIONE AND I SWEAR TO MERLIN IF YOU CALL HER A MUDBLOOD JUST ONE MORE TIME I'LL..."
Both Harry and Malfoy stopped, realising that neither had heard the other through their little screaming match, both breathing hard, chests pushing against each other in unison as they each paused, panting.
"If you call Hermione a Mudblood again, Malfoy, I SWEAR I'll make you live to regret it," Harry wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue and Malfoy pressed closer, hissing as his eyes followed the movement,
"Oh, you'll do what Potter? Be my best friend and never leave my side? I think that would be fucking punishment enough for life, but then it's not going to be a problem because if you don't back the fuck off I'm going to hurt you so bad that stupid scar's going to look like a love bite."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. Really."
"You think?"
"I know."
For the supposed two greatest rivals of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the previous few lines of dialogue seemed somewhat sadly lacking. However, as each was muttered with a rapidly decreasing decibel level and increasing proximity level, I think it's fair to say we can forgive the boys for this slip in their usual witty repartee for the sheer enjoyment factor of seeing the two practically whispering into each others mouths, gazes locked, voices no more than soft, harsh murmurs.
"I fucking hate you, Potter."
"Feeling's mutual, Malfoy."
"So?"
"So what?"
"So're you going to do something about it?"
"I plan to."
"Good."
"Good."
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"Potter."
"Malfoy?"
"Shut the fuck up and ki.... mmmmmmmmm."
Harry obeyed Malfoy with a speed and willingness neither boy lingered over, both whimpering as Harry's tongue shot out to silence Draco by running its tip across the open seam of his lips, seeking entrance more than silence. Draco's blood roared in his ears, his inner 'Malfoy' doing the same in his head, pointing out that no spell or distraction had spawned this abomination, and that mewling like a kitten into Harry's mouth would only quicken his downfall. Fortunately for Draco, his hormones were on standby, taking over his motor functions to the point where even he was surprised to find his hands inside Harry's shirt and clenching on his firm ass. Harry whimpered loudly as Draco shifted his hips, suddenly lifting him the extra inch or so that would allow Harry to pin him to the wall with his pelvis and nothing more, leaving Harry's hands free to roam at will.
"Mmm." Harry squeezed Draco's ass. "Fucking...Mmm....yeah.... mmmm.... I... Fucking... Hate ... You.... mmmm. ... GOD, yeah...mmmm."
Draco wouldn't have paid much attention to these mutterings around his throat, ears, collarbone and any other area Harry happened to be munching on, but the little jabbing thrusts of Harry's now somewhat more noticeable pelvis against his own, punctuating each word, caught and held Draco's focus.
"Hmmmmm, interesting, Potter, really," He ground out, proud of his voice being steadier than the Gryffindor who was currently occupied with laving Draco's pulse point with his tongue, before groaning loudly as Draco wrapped his arms tightly about his shoulders giving him the needed lift to wrap his legs about the hero's waist. "Such a surprise after all, being that I hate you, too, but here's an idea... how about you shut the fuck up and suck my tongue, ok?"
Malfoy gave Harry a 100 points for Gryffindor for being a quick study, groaning as the dark haired boy proceeded to do exactly as he was told, growling as he nipped lightly at Draco's tongue before soothing the slight hurts with his own soft tongue. He deducted them a moment later as Harry ground his hips and Draco's into the wall behind them, causing Malfoy to whimper loudly enough to pervade the lust filled haze on his mind.
Slowly, as in the Great Hall, Malfoy's brain shifted the focus from his feelings to his actions. Suddenly Draco could picture himself clearly, hard up against the wall, legs wrapped tightly about the Gryffindor's waist, arching and moaning into his thrusts like one of Potters god-damned 'female' groupies.
Snarling, Draco tore his mouth from Harry's, dropping his legs down so he could push Harry from him in disgust, not realising the strength of Harry's grip on him as they both toppled to the ground.
Harry was the first up, rolling away swiftly and pulling himself to his feet with the same dazed expression from their first encounter during dinner. He blinked at Malfoy, running his fingers clumsily over his now swollen lips, the gesture angering Malfoy at the blatant reminder.
He stepped forward to yell, punch, kick, do 'anything' that didn't involve kissing when a large group of Gryffindors (Ron and Neville still absent) headed by Hermione, rounded the corner.
"Oh shit," Both boys muttered, glaring as they realised they'd spoken in unison.
Harry grabbed his Firebolt and cloak from where they'd fallen, forgotten in the heat of the moment, straddling his broom and shooting Malfoy a quizzical look.
"Look, I can't promise not to kill you and thanks to whatever the fuck spell we've got on us I can't even promise not to kiss you, though I'm going to do my damndest." Here he shuddered and Malfoy scowled. "But the way I see it is this; you hate me, I hate you, but I'll take you over the hormone crazed mob any day." Draco glanced at the rapidly approaching crowd.
"Ditto," He muttered, flinging himself astride the broom, behind Harry. "Now get us the fuck out of here."
"With Pleasure." Harry grinned over his shoulder and, much to his disgust, Draco found it reassuring.
Within seconds the two boys were shooting back into the night sky as roughly 25 Gryffindors all screamed in frustration.
"Damn it!!!" Hermione yelled, stomping her foot inelegantly before sighing deeply. 'I wonder if we could have stopped them if we hadn't stopped to watch them grinding on that wall awhile before rushing down to catch them?' She pondered, before recalling said grinding, the image of Harry's body thrusting Draco's into the stone behind them as their joint moans and whimpers drifted up to the sighing and frustrated onlookers crowded at the Dorm windows, making her blush with bliss.
"We'll get them," She promised herself fervently, again replaying the moment when Draco flung his legs up about Harry's waist and shuddering with pleasure. "We'll get 'em good."
TBC...