Fic: Inevitable
Title: Inevitable
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alisanne
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Word Count: 1825 (365 x 5)
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hogwarts365/![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hogwarts365's prompt # 251: "Some things in our lives are inevitable." —Wolfgang (Sense8), Mean, Motionless.
Beta(s):sevfan and emynn.
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Inevitable
~
If there’s a lesson Draco’s learned over the years, it’s that some things are inevitable. Gryffindor will always win the House Cup while a Gryffindor’s Headmaster, whenever Hagrid invites one over to “see his new pet” one should always say no, and, if there’s any chance he can embarrass himself, Harry Potter will be there to watch.
Thus, the moment he enters the Great Hall and sees Potter at the Head Table, chatting with the other staff, he stops and contemplates returning to his lab. Surely he can create a potion to mimic a deadly illness long enough to outlast Potter’s visit? He is a Potions master, after all.
As he’s about to turn away and escape, he’s spotted, naturally. Placing a finger over his lips in the universal indicator for ‘pretend I’m not here’, Draco realises immediately how futile the action is since the person who’s spotted him is Hagrid.
“There’s Draco now!” bellows Hagrid, who, in addition to having a regrettable tendency to collect dangerous creatures as pets, doesn’t recognise universal indicators.
Potter’s head swings around and he eyes Draco, his easy smile morphing into something indecipherable.
“So much for a quick escape,” Draco murmurs under his breath. Pasting a smile on his face, he advances. “Hello, everyone.” He smiles blandly at Potter, ignoring the hammering of his heart.
“…and, as you can see, Draco’s returned as our new Potions professor,” says Minerva. “Excellent news, Draco. Harry’s agreed to be our Defence professor until end of term.”
“I see,” Draco says, settling into his chair. “And what have we done with our regular Defence teacher, Professor Muddlesworth?”
“Oh dear.” Minerva shakes her head. “I thought you heard. She’s out for a medical emergency. It happened quite suddenly. I thought I was going to have to cover her classes, but, fortunately, Harry’s stepped in.” Minerva seems positively gleeful at the prospect.
“Ah.” Draco pours himself some tea, and after a moment’s consideration, pushes away his plate. He’s too unnerved by Potter’s presence to eat anything. “You’re an Auror, aren’t you, Potter? It’s generous of you to take time from your busy Auror schedule to cover Defence classes.” When everyone at the table goes silent and motionless, Draco pauses, looking around. “What wrong?”
“That’s mean,” says Hagrid, frowning. Two great big tears well up in his eyes, and he pulls a giant, stained handkerchief from his pocket. “Ter make fun o’ poor Harry like that.”
“Excuse me?” Draco says. “How am I making fun of him?”
“I take it you haven’t read the papers this week?” asks Minerva.
Draco raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been confined to my lab all week producing potions for Madam Pomfrey at your request, remember? Between brewing and preparing for the arrival of the students next week, I haven’t slept, much less caught up on current events.”
“Ah.” Minerva sighs. “So you don’t know.”
Draco scans the faces of the other members of staff. Well, those who will actually look at him; several people have averted their faces. “Apparently not. Would someone care to enlighten me?”
“I’ll be happy to do it,” says Potter, standing. “I was hoping to have a private word with Malfoy anyway.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to eat breakfast.”
Draco downs his cuppa, then pushes back from the table. “I’m British. Tea’s all I need.”
“Would you show Harry the new Defence classroom, Draco? And I hope I don’t need to remind you gentlemen we’re all adults here?” says Minerva.
Draco inclines his head. “You don’t have to remind me.”
Potter laughs. “I’ve missed you, Malfoy.”
Draco smirks. “This way, Potter.”
Once out of sight and earshot of everyone, Potter sighs. “Are you really not aware of what’s happened or were you trying to embarrass me?”
Draco snorts. “This may be a shock to you, Potter, but you’re not the centre of my world.” Not any more.
“I was fired.”
Freezing in his tracks, Draco stares at Potter. “Why?”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Potter stares at a spot just to the left of Draco’s head. “Skeeter. She caught me in a…compromising position. It was a scandal, forcing me out of the Aurors. Minerva’s invitation came at the perfect time.”
Draco regards Potter, lips pursed. “What kind of compromising position?”
His face reddening, Potter keeps his eyes fixed on his distant focal point. “It was…me and someone else, erm—”
“For Salazar’s sake, Potter! Were you getting a blow job from a Knockturn Alley whore? Spit it out!”
Potter gapes, then a faint smile crosses his lips. “Good guess. Except I was the one giving the blow job. Well, I was about to. And Adam wasn’t a whore. At least I don’t think so—”
Adam? The rest of Potter’s words are lost in the loud buzzing in Draco’s ears. What the… “Fuck,” he wheezes. “What’d your friends say to the news?”
Potter’s eyes narrow. “They already knew. And they support me.”
“Right,” mutters Draco. “How nice for you.” Naturally Potter’s coming out wouldn’t happen like Draco’s. Granger wouldn’t reject Potter like Pansy did Draco. The Weasleys wouldn’t refuse to acknowledge Potter’s existence the way Daphne and her sister Astoria had Draco. Thank Merlin for Blaise, who had laughed, and the following year bought him a male whore for his birthday. Draco shudders at the memory.
“Problem?” Potter sounds cross, and it pulls Draco from his memories.
Draco raises an eyebrow. “Not for me.” He frowns. “Wait, what does you being gay have to do with you being an Auror?”
Potter hums. “Turns out there’s a morality clause in all Ministry contracts. Being a homosexual is a breach of that contract, so when Skeeter’s article, with pictures no less, came out—”
“They fired you?” Draco shook his head. “Wankers. So Robards can date multiple women and no one blinks, but let a gay man be seen with another man and he’s fired? That’s ridiculous! You need to sue, Potter! You’re the perfect person to do it, too—”
“Whoa!” cries Potter, holding up his hand. The half smile’s back on his face, and he’s staring intently at Draco. “Now you sound like Hermione. She’s ready to argue my case straight up to the Wizengamot.”
Draco nods. “She’s the perfect person to do it.” He smirks. “And if they don’t listen, she can always punch them in the face.”
Potter laughs, a full-throated one that makes Draco smile inadvertently in response. “This isn’t how I thought you’d react,” he admits once he calms.
Draco leans against the wall. “How’d you think I’d react?” And why do you care?
“I dunno, I guess I figured you’d be on the traditional side.” Potter shrugs. “That’s why I wanted to tell you alone, to spare myself the embarrassment of being berated in public.”
“Berated?” Draco snorts. “Please.”
“I assumed you’d be…judgmental.” Potter sighs. “Sorry. It’s been a rough week and I haven’t slept much.”
Draco nods. “That I understand.” He rolls his eyes. “Although of all the weeks for me to miss the news—”
Potter grins. “My coming out week was pretty exciting.”
“Of course it was. Mine was…depressing.” Draco shakes his head. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be showing you the new Defence classroom—” He pauses, noticing Potter’s staring at him. “What? Is there something on my face?” He looks down, inspecting his robes. “Dust?”
“Your coming out week?” Potter says softly. “As is…you’re gay?”
Draco smirks. “I realise I’m not nearly as famous as you, but it was covered in the Prophet, too.” “
“Let me guess. Skeeter?” Potter moves closer.
“Who else? Apparently she’s obsessed with outing gay people.” Draco blinks as Potter enters his personal space. “What are you doing?”
“Not sure yet,” whispers Potter, moving in, his expression intent. “Maybe getting myself hexed, or just maybe—”
Draco hums. “Shut up and kiss me, Potter.”
When Potter hesitates, Draco snorts and, fisting Potter’s robes, drags him in for a kiss that immediately turns hot and languorous. Potter, it turns out, knows how to kiss, and by the time they separate, Draco’s hands are clutching Potter’s hips, and their cocks are grinding together, and Draco wants nothing more than to steer Potter down to the dungeons, tie him to his bed, and ride him until they both can’t move.
Instead, he exhales, releases Potter’s robes, and moves back. Or at least he tries: Potter isn’t letting him go anywhere.
Draco clears his throat. “I’m supposed to be showing you the Defence classroom.”
“Has it moved?” murmurs Potter, his lips skating along Draco’s jaw.
“Possibly?” gasps Draco. “This is Hogwarts.”
Potter laughs. “I’ll find it eventually. I say we go to yours and you can orientate me to your bed.”
“You’re a fast mover,” says Draco, but he’s already grabbing Potter’s hand and dragging him down the hallway. “How’d you know I would…welcome your attentions?”
“I didn’t. I was just hoping.” Potter laughs as Draco speeds up. “And what’s your hurry? The students aren’t here yet.”
“True, but Minerva will take a dim view of me shagging you against the wall in a hallway, or in the Defence classroom.”
“Fair point.” Potter looks around as Draco shoves him into his rooms. “Nice—”
Backing him up against the door, Draco smirks. “Are you really here to critique my decor?”
“Absolutely not,” growls Potter, and then they’re attacking each other’s mouths, hands are everywhere, and before Draco knows it, they’re naked and he’s casting a hasty Cushioning Charm on the floor by his door.
“You know,” whispers Potter as Draco conjures lube and applies it to Potter’s cock, “when I got here this morning this wasn’t what…oh fuck…I thought I’d be doing within thirty minutes of being here.”
“No?” Draco chuckles, but his laugh morphs into a moan as Potter’s hands help spread Draco’s arsecheeks so Draco can stretch himself. “Thanks,” Draco whispers, his mouth hovering over Potter’s.
Their gazes meet, meld, the world slowing as Potter’s eyes search Draco’s. Potter helps him scoot backwards, and as Draco feels the tip of Potter’s cock nudge his hole, he groans, his eyes closing.
“Ready?” Potter asks.
“I was born ready,” Draco replies.
Potter’s laugh is dark. “That so?” And arching up, he drives his cock inside Draco, who cries out and braces himself against Potter’s chest.
Time speeds up again, and Draco’s being fucked, and not just fucked, but owned, thoroughly and completely claimed, although he fights it. He can’t ignore how perfect Potter’s cock feels inside him, though, and nor can he deny he’s in trouble.
“Fuck, you’re fantastic,” says Potter and they’re kissing and Draco’s coming, and Potter is, too.
“So,” says Draco afterwards, “that’s the orientation.”
Potter, his arms around Draco, hums. “Thanks, but I suspect I’ll need a bit more orientating.”
Draco smirks. It seems he has one more thing to add to his list. He and Potter, Potter and him, it’s always been inevitable. “I think that can be arranged.”
~
Author:
alisanneRating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter.
Word Count: 1825 (365 x 5)
Warnings: None.
A/N: Written for
hogwarts365/hogwarts365's prompt # 251: "Some things in our lives are inevitable." —Wolfgang (Sense8), Mean, Motionless. Beta(s):
sevfan and emynn.Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
~
Inevitable
~
If there’s a lesson Draco’s learned over the years, it’s that some things are inevitable. Gryffindor will always win the House Cup while a Gryffindor’s Headmaster, whenever Hagrid invites one over to “see his new pet” one should always say no, and, if there’s any chance he can embarrass himself, Harry Potter will be there to watch.
Thus, the moment he enters the Great Hall and sees Potter at the Head Table, chatting with the other staff, he stops and contemplates returning to his lab. Surely he can create a potion to mimic a deadly illness long enough to outlast Potter’s visit? He is a Potions master, after all.
As he’s about to turn away and escape, he’s spotted, naturally. Placing a finger over his lips in the universal indicator for ‘pretend I’m not here’, Draco realises immediately how futile the action is since the person who’s spotted him is Hagrid.
“There’s Draco now!” bellows Hagrid, who, in addition to having a regrettable tendency to collect dangerous creatures as pets, doesn’t recognise universal indicators.
Potter’s head swings around and he eyes Draco, his easy smile morphing into something indecipherable.
“So much for a quick escape,” Draco murmurs under his breath. Pasting a smile on his face, he advances. “Hello, everyone.” He smiles blandly at Potter, ignoring the hammering of his heart.
“…and, as you can see, Draco’s returned as our new Potions professor,” says Minerva. “Excellent news, Draco. Harry’s agreed to be our Defence professor until end of term.”
“I see,” Draco says, settling into his chair. “And what have we done with our regular Defence teacher, Professor Muddlesworth?”
“Oh dear.” Minerva shakes her head. “I thought you heard. She’s out for a medical emergency. It happened quite suddenly. I thought I was going to have to cover her classes, but, fortunately, Harry’s stepped in.” Minerva seems positively gleeful at the prospect.
“Ah.” Draco pours himself some tea, and after a moment’s consideration, pushes away his plate. He’s too unnerved by Potter’s presence to eat anything. “You’re an Auror, aren’t you, Potter? It’s generous of you to take time from your busy Auror schedule to cover Defence classes.” When everyone at the table goes silent and motionless, Draco pauses, looking around. “What wrong?”
“That’s mean,” says Hagrid, frowning. Two great big tears well up in his eyes, and he pulls a giant, stained handkerchief from his pocket. “Ter make fun o’ poor Harry like that.”
“Excuse me?” Draco says. “How am I making fun of him?”
“I take it you haven’t read the papers this week?” asks Minerva.
Draco raises an eyebrow. “I’ve been confined to my lab all week producing potions for Madam Pomfrey at your request, remember? Between brewing and preparing for the arrival of the students next week, I haven’t slept, much less caught up on current events.”
“Ah.” Minerva sighs. “So you don’t know.”
Draco scans the faces of the other members of staff. Well, those who will actually look at him; several people have averted their faces. “Apparently not. Would someone care to enlighten me?”
“I’ll be happy to do it,” says Potter, standing. “I was hoping to have a private word with Malfoy anyway.” He raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to eat breakfast.”
Draco downs his cuppa, then pushes back from the table. “I’m British. Tea’s all I need.”
“Would you show Harry the new Defence classroom, Draco? And I hope I don’t need to remind you gentlemen we’re all adults here?” says Minerva.
Draco inclines his head. “You don’t have to remind me.”
Potter laughs. “I’ve missed you, Malfoy.”
Draco smirks. “This way, Potter.”
Once out of sight and earshot of everyone, Potter sighs. “Are you really not aware of what’s happened or were you trying to embarrass me?”
Draco snorts. “This may be a shock to you, Potter, but you’re not the centre of my world.” Not any more.
“I was fired.”
Freezing in his tracks, Draco stares at Potter. “Why?”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Potter stares at a spot just to the left of Draco’s head. “Skeeter. She caught me in a…compromising position. It was a scandal, forcing me out of the Aurors. Minerva’s invitation came at the perfect time.”
Draco regards Potter, lips pursed. “What kind of compromising position?”
His face reddening, Potter keeps his eyes fixed on his distant focal point. “It was…me and someone else, erm—”
“For Salazar’s sake, Potter! Were you getting a blow job from a Knockturn Alley whore? Spit it out!”
Potter gapes, then a faint smile crosses his lips. “Good guess. Except I was the one giving the blow job. Well, I was about to. And Adam wasn’t a whore. At least I don’t think so—”
Adam? The rest of Potter’s words are lost in the loud buzzing in Draco’s ears. What the… “Fuck,” he wheezes. “What’d your friends say to the news?”
Potter’s eyes narrow. “They already knew. And they support me.”
“Right,” mutters Draco. “How nice for you.” Naturally Potter’s coming out wouldn’t happen like Draco’s. Granger wouldn’t reject Potter like Pansy did Draco. The Weasleys wouldn’t refuse to acknowledge Potter’s existence the way Daphne and her sister Astoria had Draco. Thank Merlin for Blaise, who had laughed, and the following year bought him a male whore for his birthday. Draco shudders at the memory.
“Problem?” Potter sounds cross, and it pulls Draco from his memories.
Draco raises an eyebrow. “Not for me.” He frowns. “Wait, what does you being gay have to do with you being an Auror?”
Potter hums. “Turns out there’s a morality clause in all Ministry contracts. Being a homosexual is a breach of that contract, so when Skeeter’s article, with pictures no less, came out—”
“They fired you?” Draco shook his head. “Wankers. So Robards can date multiple women and no one blinks, but let a gay man be seen with another man and he’s fired? That’s ridiculous! You need to sue, Potter! You’re the perfect person to do it, too—”
“Whoa!” cries Potter, holding up his hand. The half smile’s back on his face, and he’s staring intently at Draco. “Now you sound like Hermione. She’s ready to argue my case straight up to the Wizengamot.”
Draco nods. “She’s the perfect person to do it.” He smirks. “And if they don’t listen, she can always punch them in the face.”
Potter laughs, a full-throated one that makes Draco smile inadvertently in response. “This isn’t how I thought you’d react,” he admits once he calms.
Draco leans against the wall. “How’d you think I’d react?” And why do you care?
“I dunno, I guess I figured you’d be on the traditional side.” Potter shrugs. “That’s why I wanted to tell you alone, to spare myself the embarrassment of being berated in public.”
“Berated?” Draco snorts. “Please.”
“I assumed you’d be…judgmental.” Potter sighs. “Sorry. It’s been a rough week and I haven’t slept much.”
Draco nods. “That I understand.” He rolls his eyes. “Although of all the weeks for me to miss the news—”
Potter grins. “My coming out week was pretty exciting.”
“Of course it was. Mine was…depressing.” Draco shakes his head. “Anyway, I’m supposed to be showing you the new Defence classroom—” He pauses, noticing Potter’s staring at him. “What? Is there something on my face?” He looks down, inspecting his robes. “Dust?”
“Your coming out week?” Potter says softly. “As is…you’re gay?”
Draco smirks. “I realise I’m not nearly as famous as you, but it was covered in the Prophet, too.” “
“Let me guess. Skeeter?” Potter moves closer.
“Who else? Apparently she’s obsessed with outing gay people.” Draco blinks as Potter enters his personal space. “What are you doing?”
“Not sure yet,” whispers Potter, moving in, his expression intent. “Maybe getting myself hexed, or just maybe—”
Draco hums. “Shut up and kiss me, Potter.”
When Potter hesitates, Draco snorts and, fisting Potter’s robes, drags him in for a kiss that immediately turns hot and languorous. Potter, it turns out, knows how to kiss, and by the time they separate, Draco’s hands are clutching Potter’s hips, and their cocks are grinding together, and Draco wants nothing more than to steer Potter down to the dungeons, tie him to his bed, and ride him until they both can’t move.
Instead, he exhales, releases Potter’s robes, and moves back. Or at least he tries: Potter isn’t letting him go anywhere.
Draco clears his throat. “I’m supposed to be showing you the Defence classroom.”
“Has it moved?” murmurs Potter, his lips skating along Draco’s jaw.
“Possibly?” gasps Draco. “This is Hogwarts.”
Potter laughs. “I’ll find it eventually. I say we go to yours and you can orientate me to your bed.”
“You’re a fast mover,” says Draco, but he’s already grabbing Potter’s hand and dragging him down the hallway. “How’d you know I would…welcome your attentions?”
“I didn’t. I was just hoping.” Potter laughs as Draco speeds up. “And what’s your hurry? The students aren’t here yet.”
“True, but Minerva will take a dim view of me shagging you against the wall in a hallway, or in the Defence classroom.”
“Fair point.” Potter looks around as Draco shoves him into his rooms. “Nice—”
Backing him up against the door, Draco smirks. “Are you really here to critique my decor?”
“Absolutely not,” growls Potter, and then they’re attacking each other’s mouths, hands are everywhere, and before Draco knows it, they’re naked and he’s casting a hasty Cushioning Charm on the floor by his door.
“You know,” whispers Potter as Draco conjures lube and applies it to Potter’s cock, “when I got here this morning this wasn’t what…oh fuck…I thought I’d be doing within thirty minutes of being here.”
“No?” Draco chuckles, but his laugh morphs into a moan as Potter’s hands help spread Draco’s arsecheeks so Draco can stretch himself. “Thanks,” Draco whispers, his mouth hovering over Potter’s.
Their gazes meet, meld, the world slowing as Potter’s eyes search Draco’s. Potter helps him scoot backwards, and as Draco feels the tip of Potter’s cock nudge his hole, he groans, his eyes closing.
“Ready?” Potter asks.
“I was born ready,” Draco replies.
Potter’s laugh is dark. “That so?” And arching up, he drives his cock inside Draco, who cries out and braces himself against Potter’s chest.
Time speeds up again, and Draco’s being fucked, and not just fucked, but owned, thoroughly and completely claimed, although he fights it. He can’t ignore how perfect Potter’s cock feels inside him, though, and nor can he deny he’s in trouble.
“Fuck, you’re fantastic,” says Potter and they’re kissing and Draco’s coming, and Potter is, too.
“So,” says Draco afterwards, “that’s the orientation.”
Potter, his arms around Draco, hums. “Thanks, but I suspect I’ll need a bit more orientating.”
Draco smirks. It seems he has one more thing to add to his list. He and Potter, Potter and him, it’s always been inevitable. “I think that can be arranged.”
~