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suki_blueTitle: Parity Transformations
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts and seven years since the end of the war, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.
Beta'd by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amejisuto. Thank you, darling!
A/N: Compliant with all canon up to HBP so there may be spoilers for any of the first six books. As this fic was already planned out in full before the release, it will not be compliant with book 7 and will therefore contain NO SPOILERS.
Previous Chapters: HERE
The ceiling thumped three times in succession. Bang, bang, bang.
Draco looked up and scowled. ‘They’ll fall through in a minute.’
‘Probably,’ Harry said, his nose buried deep in a two day-old copy of The Times.
Bang!
Draco sat down in his favourite arm chair. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Duck Jumping.’
‘Pardon?’
Harry folded the newspaper and put it back in the magazine rack. ‘I have no idea. It’s some sort of game. Looked a lot like Leap Frog.’
Draco looked over at Harry, his expression bewildered. ‘Pardon?’
‘It’s also a game. One person bends over and the other—’
Draco’s eyes widened.
‘Jumps over,’ Harry quickly finished, lightly exasperated. ‘Don’t wizards play it?’
‘Of course not. It sounds silly. Pointless. I can imagine Blast-Ended Skrewt Jumping, though, can’t you? Now that’s a challenge.’
Harry laughed. ‘Ouch. Hold on to your eyebrows.’
The conversation thus degenerated into Hinkypunk Hopscotch, Salamander Skipping and Dungeons and Dungbombs. Apparently, it was all very funny, although James and Kasen didn’t think so when their fathers told them of all these exciting new games. They looked up at Draco and Harry with bored faces and James asked, ‘Is there pudding?’
‘I suppose that’s my cue to start dinner,’ Draco said with a weary sigh. He held his arms out and the children pulled him up with great groans and grunts of effort.
Dinner was to be Mexican. Rice, fajitas and plenty of salsa and sour cream. It was a treat for the children to celebrate their first week of school.
Draco bustled in and out of the kitchen thinking about how smoothly it had gone. Both Kasen and James were having a fabulous time.
They had learned numbers and colours and even a little bit of reading. Of course, Kasen was good at all these things anyway, and James could already recite all the colours of a rainbow, courtesy of a famous Muggle song stolen long ago from a wizard by the name of Rogerus Rainbus.
They had also learned all about the local organic farm which they would visit near the end of term. Kasen now refused to eat potatoes unless Draco could prove they were organically grown, which was something of an annoyance.
On the Thursday, Kasen and James learned all about the colour purple and now both refused to eat beetroot, which was a relief to Harry as he apparently couldn’t work out how to cook it anyway. Draco being Draco, wasn’t going to be bested by a pair four year-olds, so, using extreme stealth and Harry with a DVD as a distraction, he put the beetroot in a chocolate cake under the guise of butter. That was to be pudding.
Harry stood in the doorway while Draco cooked, under strict orders to ‘Stay out of my kitchen, and your offspring, too. I don’t want to trip over random Potters while I’m handling hot things.’
Harry’s muttered reply had made Draco blush. And now, while he stood stir-frying mushrooms, peppers, chicken and onions and listening to Harry drop horrifyingly obvious hints about how Draco had such a lovely garden and oh how Harry wished he had such skill, Draco had a thought.
Harry liked him. More than liked. But did he like Harry? He hadn’t even considered this what with his meltdown over Kasen’s mother and how Harry would react. Yet everything seemed okay, and Harry was still here, and when Draco turned around to look at him, Harry was smiling faintly and looking … attractive? Handsome? Hot?
He also realised something else.
He’d once felt Harry Potter’s hands on his body, but he’d never tasted a kiss from his lips.
*****
‘I knew you had it in you, Potter. I’m starting to think you would have done well in Slytherin.’
‘Shut up, Malfoy.’
Draco circled him, wand at his side, prowling, hunting, seeking. ‘Oh come on, don’t be shy. You take to Cruciatus like a Hippogriff takes to the air. Tell me, does it make you hard when I scream?’
There was disgust in Potter’s face when he looked up. ‘You are revolting.’
Draco laughed and placed his wand on the table with shaking fingers. ‘No, just truthful. It doesn’t make you want to fuck? It does me. Maybe we should kill two Flobberworms with one stone.’
‘Firstly, that was a crappy analogy. Secondly, you’re not seriously coming on to me?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Screw you.’ Potter started for the door.
‘I believe that’s the point. Don’t you want to? I for one am all for disgusting dirty sex the night before I die.’
Potter stopped, his hand hovering over the door handle. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he whispered.
‘Really?’
Potter nodded but wouldn’t lift his head.
‘And you know this because of the Prophecy?’ Draco asked. ‘The Prophecy that says you’re going to emerge victorious?’
‘Yeah.’
Draco leaned back against the table, folded his arms and laughed. ‘You must think I’m a total idiot. The Prophecy says no such thing.’
‘It … it does.’
‘Be quiet, no it doesn’t. You’re a terrible liar.’ Draco unfolded his arms and crossed the room. ‘You’ll fight The Dark Lord tomorrow and you’ll die, as will I,’ he said, opening the door that Potter was having so much trouble with. ‘Off you go, then. Maybe Ginny Weasley will oblige you.’
Potter hesitated, avoiding Draco’s penetrating stare. ‘Will you still fight?’
‘Of course. What else is there left?’
*****
Draco crossed the kitchen, took Harry’s face in his hands, and pressed their lips together.
Harry’s mouth was softer than he remembered. Draco still had the scar on his shoulder where Harry had sunk his teeth in, desperate and needing to cause pain as Draco needed the same.
They moved closer, kissed deeper, Harry’s hands touching Draco’s hips, pulling him in, trapping him in a moment of—
‘Daddy, how tall am I?’
Draco and Harry sprang apart.
‘What? Erm,’ Draco said, smoothing down his perfectly smooth trousers, ‘about twenty minutes.’
Kasen looked confused but he nodded anyway and went back to the living room.
‘And you can shut up,’ Draco said to Harry, displeased at his apparent amusement.
‘Sorry, you just so cute when you’re all flustered.’
‘I’m not cute,’ Draco said, turning back to the counter and cutting open a packet of flour tortillas. ‘I’m anything but.’
Harry walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘You’re cute like a python.’
‘I do not have beady eyes!’
Exasperated, Harry rested his forehead down between Draco’s shoulder blades. ‘Where did you get ‘beady eyes’?’
‘That’s what pythons have.’
‘What do I see in you?’
‘Must be the hair,’ Draco said. ‘Everyone digs the hair.’
Harry drew the hair aside to kiss Draco’s neck.
Draco closed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think I do.’
‘Do what?’
*****
‘Guess what I did,’ Draco said to Severus Snape three days later while he was cutting back his old teacher’s bugbane. The sun had decided to shine so Draco pulled off his jumper.
‘I dread to think. Go on, surprise me.’
Draco glanced over his shoulder at Severus, who was lounging in a Muggle deckchair, overseeing the work on his incredibly untidy garden. Like Draco could actually do any damage that would show amongst the chaos of brambles, knee-high grass and rampant dandelions.
‘I kissed Harry Potter,’ Draco said brightly.
There was momentary pause. ‘Please tell me you’re simply trying to make me sick.’
Draco grinned at a bramble and attacked it his with his secateurs. ‘Nope, sorry. Can’t do that.’
‘I see. Well, let that be the end of it, then.’
‘Hardly. He’s quite a good kisser. I wish I’d known.’
The deckchair creaked as Severus leaned back. ‘We were all under the impression that you did.’
Draco froze. The secateurs dropped into the grass. ‘What did you just say?’
‘You heard me.’
‘You knew? All this time? All along you knew we’d had sex at the Order?’
Severus Snape sat bolt upright. ‘Dear Merlin! I was attempting to wind to you up, Draco. I really didn’t need to know that.’
Draco covered his mouth with his hand. ‘Oh shit,’ he said through his fingers.
*****
Draco walked past Harry Potter’s door. He glared resentfully at it and at the disgusting noises of Ginny Weasley spreading her legs for the great Potter. So, he’d convinced her. Fine, if he wanted to catch ginger disease then so be it. He hoped Potter choked on her.
Draco slammed his own door shut, tore off his clothes, and quickly climbed under the covers and hugged his pillow. He squeezed his eyes closed and wondered if it was last time he’d ever lie down to sleep. When he opened them again, Potter was there, standing dressed in just his jeans and a love bite, a pathetic one at that.
‘Can I help you?’ Draco asked. His eyelids struggled to stay open and his limbs felt heavy and relaxed. He wondered what time it was.
‘Yes,’ Potter said. ‘It does get me hard.’
Draco slowly turned over onto his back and stretched, pushing the blankets down to his naked belly. ‘Come to tell me or show me?’
Draco got his answer in the form of being dragged up the bed by his arm. Potter gripped his hair tightly and yanked his head back, his mouth going straight to Draco’s neck and biting.
Now, that was a love bite. It hardened him in an instant and the more he struggled to breathe without gasping, the harder Potter bit.
Then Potter was gone.
Draco opened his eyes and watched with increasing hunger as Potter knelt over him, scrambling to open his jeans. ‘Roll over,’ Potter ordered.
‘You must be joking, I don’t bottom for anyone, and especially not for some pathetic Gryffindor. I bet you haven’t even got any sort of lubrication.’
Potter smoothed his hand over Draco’s throat and squeezed. ‘Shut. Your fucking mouth. And roll over.’
Draco’s arousal had never known such heights. Finally, he wielded power over Saint Potter. He was the one, Draco Malfoy, to prove that Potter wasn’t the personification of pure goodness that he made himself out to be. His lips lifted in a lazy smile. ‘Are you going to hurt me?’
‘If you want,’ Potter replied, his eyes searching Draco’s body, never settling, restless.
‘I want.’ Draco rolled over.
*****
‘It was a long time ago.’
Severus nodded. ‘I agree. I hate to think about your reasoning back then. Can I assume it is different to your current reasoning?’
‘I don’t have any reasoning.’
Severus raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’
‘Oh be quiet, you know what I mean. I like him. He’s … I don’t really know. We could never have been friends then, not in a million years. I suppose he matured somewhat.’
‘As have you,’ Severus said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Draco snapped, searching the grass for his secateurs. ‘I’ve always been mature.’
‘Did you hear the Hufflepuff team won the House cup this year?’
Draco’s mouth dropped open. ‘Those Bacchanalian, bastardised badgers! How boring.’
Severus’s other eyebrow joined the first. ‘You hold maturity in spades.’
‘Fine! Other words beginning with b! It’s still a travesty. Do you want to come to lunch one day next week? I’d like you to meet Kasen.’
If the sudden flip in conversation surprised Severus, he didn’t show it. ‘It would be an honour, Draco.’
‘I miss Hogwarts.’
‘I know.’
TBC …
Fandom: HP
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: Eleven years since he ran from Hogwarts and seven years since the end of the war, Draco has moved on. Now in his late twenties, Draco lives a reclusive life in a tiny village in Hampshire. Never in a million years does he expect to cross paths with Harry Potter again. But he does, and there are two, rather small and rather excitable, complications.
Beta'd by
amejisuto. Thank you, darling!A/N: Compliant with all canon up to HBP so there may be spoilers for any of the first six books. As this fic was already planned out in full before the release, it will not be compliant with book 7 and will therefore contain NO SPOILERS.
Previous Chapters: HERE
The ceiling thumped three times in succession. Bang, bang, bang.
Draco looked up and scowled. ‘They’ll fall through in a minute.’
‘Probably,’ Harry said, his nose buried deep in a two day-old copy of The Times.
Bang!
Draco sat down in his favourite arm chair. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Duck Jumping.’
‘Pardon?’
Harry folded the newspaper and put it back in the magazine rack. ‘I have no idea. It’s some sort of game. Looked a lot like Leap Frog.’
Draco looked over at Harry, his expression bewildered. ‘Pardon?’
‘It’s also a game. One person bends over and the other—’
Draco’s eyes widened.
‘Jumps over,’ Harry quickly finished, lightly exasperated. ‘Don’t wizards play it?’
‘Of course not. It sounds silly. Pointless. I can imagine Blast-Ended Skrewt Jumping, though, can’t you? Now that’s a challenge.’
Harry laughed. ‘Ouch. Hold on to your eyebrows.’
The conversation thus degenerated into Hinkypunk Hopscotch, Salamander Skipping and Dungeons and Dungbombs. Apparently, it was all very funny, although James and Kasen didn’t think so when their fathers told them of all these exciting new games. They looked up at Draco and Harry with bored faces and James asked, ‘Is there pudding?’
‘I suppose that’s my cue to start dinner,’ Draco said with a weary sigh. He held his arms out and the children pulled him up with great groans and grunts of effort.
Dinner was to be Mexican. Rice, fajitas and plenty of salsa and sour cream. It was a treat for the children to celebrate their first week of school.
Draco bustled in and out of the kitchen thinking about how smoothly it had gone. Both Kasen and James were having a fabulous time.
They had learned numbers and colours and even a little bit of reading. Of course, Kasen was good at all these things anyway, and James could already recite all the colours of a rainbow, courtesy of a famous Muggle song stolen long ago from a wizard by the name of Rogerus Rainbus.
They had also learned all about the local organic farm which they would visit near the end of term. Kasen now refused to eat potatoes unless Draco could prove they were organically grown, which was something of an annoyance.
On the Thursday, Kasen and James learned all about the colour purple and now both refused to eat beetroot, which was a relief to Harry as he apparently couldn’t work out how to cook it anyway. Draco being Draco, wasn’t going to be bested by a pair four year-olds, so, using extreme stealth and Harry with a DVD as a distraction, he put the beetroot in a chocolate cake under the guise of butter. That was to be pudding.
Harry stood in the doorway while Draco cooked, under strict orders to ‘Stay out of my kitchen, and your offspring, too. I don’t want to trip over random Potters while I’m handling hot things.’
Harry’s muttered reply had made Draco blush. And now, while he stood stir-frying mushrooms, peppers, chicken and onions and listening to Harry drop horrifyingly obvious hints about how Draco had such a lovely garden and oh how Harry wished he had such skill, Draco had a thought.
Harry liked him. More than liked. But did he like Harry? He hadn’t even considered this what with his meltdown over Kasen’s mother and how Harry would react. Yet everything seemed okay, and Harry was still here, and when Draco turned around to look at him, Harry was smiling faintly and looking … attractive? Handsome? Hot?
He also realised something else.
He’d once felt Harry Potter’s hands on his body, but he’d never tasted a kiss from his lips.
*****
‘I knew you had it in you, Potter. I’m starting to think you would have done well in Slytherin.’
‘Shut up, Malfoy.’
Draco circled him, wand at his side, prowling, hunting, seeking. ‘Oh come on, don’t be shy. You take to Cruciatus like a Hippogriff takes to the air. Tell me, does it make you hard when I scream?’
There was disgust in Potter’s face when he looked up. ‘You are revolting.’
Draco laughed and placed his wand on the table with shaking fingers. ‘No, just truthful. It doesn’t make you want to fuck? It does me. Maybe we should kill two Flobberworms with one stone.’
‘Firstly, that was a crappy analogy. Secondly, you’re not seriously coming on to me?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Screw you.’ Potter started for the door.
‘I believe that’s the point. Don’t you want to? I for one am all for disgusting dirty sex the night before I die.’
Potter stopped, his hand hovering over the door handle. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he whispered.
‘Really?’
Potter nodded but wouldn’t lift his head.
‘And you know this because of the Prophecy?’ Draco asked. ‘The Prophecy that says you’re going to emerge victorious?’
‘Yeah.’
Draco leaned back against the table, folded his arms and laughed. ‘You must think I’m a total idiot. The Prophecy says no such thing.’
‘It … it does.’
‘Be quiet, no it doesn’t. You’re a terrible liar.’ Draco unfolded his arms and crossed the room. ‘You’ll fight The Dark Lord tomorrow and you’ll die, as will I,’ he said, opening the door that Potter was having so much trouble with. ‘Off you go, then. Maybe Ginny Weasley will oblige you.’
Potter hesitated, avoiding Draco’s penetrating stare. ‘Will you still fight?’
‘Of course. What else is there left?’
*****
Draco crossed the kitchen, took Harry’s face in his hands, and pressed their lips together.
Harry’s mouth was softer than he remembered. Draco still had the scar on his shoulder where Harry had sunk his teeth in, desperate and needing to cause pain as Draco needed the same.
They moved closer, kissed deeper, Harry’s hands touching Draco’s hips, pulling him in, trapping him in a moment of—
‘Daddy, how tall am I?’
Draco and Harry sprang apart.
‘What? Erm,’ Draco said, smoothing down his perfectly smooth trousers, ‘about twenty minutes.’
Kasen looked confused but he nodded anyway and went back to the living room.
‘And you can shut up,’ Draco said to Harry, displeased at his apparent amusement.
‘Sorry, you just so cute when you’re all flustered.’
‘I’m not cute,’ Draco said, turning back to the counter and cutting open a packet of flour tortillas. ‘I’m anything but.’
Harry walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. ‘You’re cute like a python.’
‘I do not have beady eyes!’
Exasperated, Harry rested his forehead down between Draco’s shoulder blades. ‘Where did you get ‘beady eyes’?’
‘That’s what pythons have.’
‘What do I see in you?’
‘Must be the hair,’ Draco said. ‘Everyone digs the hair.’
Harry drew the hair aside to kiss Draco’s neck.
Draco closed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I think I do.’
‘Do what?’
*****
‘Guess what I did,’ Draco said to Severus Snape three days later while he was cutting back his old teacher’s bugbane. The sun had decided to shine so Draco pulled off his jumper.
‘I dread to think. Go on, surprise me.’
Draco glanced over his shoulder at Severus, who was lounging in a Muggle deckchair, overseeing the work on his incredibly untidy garden. Like Draco could actually do any damage that would show amongst the chaos of brambles, knee-high grass and rampant dandelions.
‘I kissed Harry Potter,’ Draco said brightly.
There was momentary pause. ‘Please tell me you’re simply trying to make me sick.’
Draco grinned at a bramble and attacked it his with his secateurs. ‘Nope, sorry. Can’t do that.’
‘I see. Well, let that be the end of it, then.’
‘Hardly. He’s quite a good kisser. I wish I’d known.’
The deckchair creaked as Severus leaned back. ‘We were all under the impression that you did.’
Draco froze. The secateurs dropped into the grass. ‘What did you just say?’
‘You heard me.’
‘You knew? All this time? All along you knew we’d had sex at the Order?’
Severus Snape sat bolt upright. ‘Dear Merlin! I was attempting to wind to you up, Draco. I really didn’t need to know that.’
Draco covered his mouth with his hand. ‘Oh shit,’ he said through his fingers.
*****
Draco walked past Harry Potter’s door. He glared resentfully at it and at the disgusting noises of Ginny Weasley spreading her legs for the great Potter. So, he’d convinced her. Fine, if he wanted to catch ginger disease then so be it. He hoped Potter choked on her.
Draco slammed his own door shut, tore off his clothes, and quickly climbed under the covers and hugged his pillow. He squeezed his eyes closed and wondered if it was last time he’d ever lie down to sleep. When he opened them again, Potter was there, standing dressed in just his jeans and a love bite, a pathetic one at that.
‘Can I help you?’ Draco asked. His eyelids struggled to stay open and his limbs felt heavy and relaxed. He wondered what time it was.
‘Yes,’ Potter said. ‘It does get me hard.’
Draco slowly turned over onto his back and stretched, pushing the blankets down to his naked belly. ‘Come to tell me or show me?’
Draco got his answer in the form of being dragged up the bed by his arm. Potter gripped his hair tightly and yanked his head back, his mouth going straight to Draco’s neck and biting.
Now, that was a love bite. It hardened him in an instant and the more he struggled to breathe without gasping, the harder Potter bit.
Then Potter was gone.
Draco opened his eyes and watched with increasing hunger as Potter knelt over him, scrambling to open his jeans. ‘Roll over,’ Potter ordered.
‘You must be joking, I don’t bottom for anyone, and especially not for some pathetic Gryffindor. I bet you haven’t even got any sort of lubrication.’
Potter smoothed his hand over Draco’s throat and squeezed. ‘Shut. Your fucking mouth. And roll over.’
Draco’s arousal had never known such heights. Finally, he wielded power over Saint Potter. He was the one, Draco Malfoy, to prove that Potter wasn’t the personification of pure goodness that he made himself out to be. His lips lifted in a lazy smile. ‘Are you going to hurt me?’
‘If you want,’ Potter replied, his eyes searching Draco’s body, never settling, restless.
‘I want.’ Draco rolled over.
*****
‘It was a long time ago.’
Severus nodded. ‘I agree. I hate to think about your reasoning back then. Can I assume it is different to your current reasoning?’
‘I don’t have any reasoning.’
Severus raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’
‘Oh be quiet, you know what I mean. I like him. He’s … I don’t really know. We could never have been friends then, not in a million years. I suppose he matured somewhat.’
‘As have you,’ Severus said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Draco snapped, searching the grass for his secateurs. ‘I’ve always been mature.’
‘Did you hear the Hufflepuff team won the House cup this year?’
Draco’s mouth dropped open. ‘Those Bacchanalian, bastardised badgers! How boring.’
Severus’s other eyebrow joined the first. ‘You hold maturity in spades.’
‘Fine! Other words beginning with b! It’s still a travesty. Do you want to come to lunch one day next week? I’d like you to meet Kasen.’
If the sudden flip in conversation surprised Severus, he didn’t show it. ‘It would be an honour, Draco.’
‘I miss Hogwarts.’
‘I know.’
TBC …