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The Repairman

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Draco turned the knob on the faucet harshly and waited for what he knew wouldn’t come: hot water. He let the water that had come out run for a moment before sticking his hand into it, hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe today, it would magically be- cold as fuck. With a groan he pulled his hand back and steeled himself to enter the arctic waters that constituted as his shower. It took most of his will power not to jump right back out. He was able to take his shower in record time as the cold water did nothing for his morning wank, but it did work wonders on waking him up.

When he strolled whistling into work an hour later, Pansy eyed him with distaste. “Still no hot water?”

“The frozen tundra that you call a heart is warmer,” Draco replied.

Pansy smirked at the insult. “And you haven’t called a repair man because?”

“Because if I catch my death from the cold, you will have to live the rest of your life knowing you could've prevented my untimely demise.” Draco took his place behind the desk and started assembling his tools for the day.

“Draco, I’ve told you my shower is otherwise….engaged most mornings.”

“It’s quite alright Pansy, I understand a sub-standard fuck from Blaise first thing is the only thing getting you through the day.”

“I would say it’s above average personally,” Pansy replied watching him carefully take down his current project, an antique music box.

“Anything involving a vagina is sub-standard,” he said without looking up.

Pansy let out a short laugh. “Agree to disagree.” She finally turned to her own work, restoring an old wizard’s portrait, a delicate and time consuming job. She knew as soon as both she and Draco really began to get into their tasks for the day chit-chat would be kept to a minimum. “You know, you are a repair man, why can’t you fix it?”

“Because for the 80th time, I can repair things, magical things not pipes.”

“Pipes are things.”

“Oh, you stup-“ Draco’s reply was cut short when a newspaper hit him in the face. “Pansy!”

“Look at the ad pages.”

Draco opened the paper and found the ad pages. “If you can draw this snitch, a career in-“

“Not there, you nitwit. Bottom left,” she shot him an unimpressed look over her shoulder.

“Bottom left? Oh, ‘House going haywire? Appliances not working? Kitchen need an update? Plumbing problems? Owl The Repairman, specializing in both Wizarding and Muggle homes, for a consultation and quote.’” Draco set the paper down. “The Repairman? How unoriginal.”

“You don't need to be original to fix a toilet, Draco,” Pansy replied.

“True. Well, I suppose it’s worth a shot.” Draco took out a piece of parchment and scribbled off a missive to The Repairman. He received a reply around noon that stated the repairman could visit either that day or the next. Already far too involved with his days project, he chose the latter. “Pansy, I’m not sure when I’ll be in tomorrow; the repairman will be coming round.”

“Hmmm,” was the only reply he got, but Draco hardly took notice of that, his mind already engrossed in the next facet of the music box. They took a break for lunch around one, and finished up the day in near silence, save for the muggle radio playing 90s pop hits.

As it was Thursday and custom, Pansy and Draco headed to a bistro just on the outskirts of Diagon Alley to meet Blaise. Upon their arrival Blaise kissed them both on the cheek, causing Draco to glare and rub away the kiss dramatically while his two friends smirked.

“So,” Blaise said after they had ordered. “Fuck anyone lately?”

“Not even my own right hand,” Draco answered swirling his wine.

“Tragic. Really, not even a solo show?”

“His hot water still isn’t working so he can’t have his morning wank,” Pansy supplied.

Draco shot her a look. “I told you that in a state of duress.”

“Draco, I lived with you for literally all of your teenage years, I’m well aware of your masturbatory habits.” Blaise rolled his eyes and took a sip of his firewhiskey.

“I was in a state of duress,” Draco replied.

“And have been for the past eight years?”

“The world is in shambles, Pansy.”

“In any case, are you going to get your water sorted?” Blaise cut in.

“A repairman will be coming round tomorrow.”

“Oh, Draco I was just thinking,” Pansy began, but paused when her companions raised their brows at each other. “Oh, do shut up both of you. Anyway, as I was saying, I was thinking, I was watching this thing on the Muggle internet, and Draco, you wouldn’t believe it! A man needed his dryer serviced, and the repairman came over, and wouldn't you know it, the next thing the man was getting serviced!”

“Pansy! Why are you watching Muggle porn!” Draco whisper shouted.

“Yeah, and why are you watching it without me?” Blaise crossed his arms.

“Oh, I just stumbled upon it,” Pansy waved her hand. “Anyway, what if that happens to you Draco? You could use a good servicing. It’s been what, two? three? years since your last…well anything really.”

“Jesus, Pans, can you not?” Draco knocked his wine back and signaled for another.

“All I’m saying is that you’ve got to get back out there. You cannot expect to live a life of celibacy just because Theodore bloody Nott was a useless bastard.”

“Pansy,” Blaise began as he watched Draco’s face harden.

“I am not living a life of celibacy because of that prick,” Draco ground out. “I just don’t simply care to muck around anymore, alright? Just because you two have a perfect little life with each other and can’t see beyond your own noses doesn’t mean the rest of us are suffering. I’m fine.” Draco gulped the fresh glass of wine that had appeared on the table in one go, and stood. “I do not have the energy for this, I’ll see you later.”

“Draco, wait,” Blaise called out, but he was already striding through the bistro to the door. He apparated directly into his bedroom and flung himself face down on his bed. When his face became too hot with his own breath he rolled over.

“Why the fuck can’t my friends mind their own fucking business?” He asked his ceiling. “What if I want to be alone? Would that be so bad?” He sighed, puffing the hair from his forehead. “Yeah,” he whispered. “It really would.” Too emotionally drained from his dramatic exit, and subsequent reflection, Draco forwent a proper teeth brushing and face washing for a charm. He took off his clothes without moving from the bed and threw them on the floor. He set an alarm for the next day, though he knew he’d be well awake before it went off, and spelled off the lights.

In the quiet of his room, Draco tried not to think about Theodore Nott, blonde women, and bitter laughter. He failed miserably.


“Just a second!” Draco called, heading for the door. He checked his hair in the mirror by the door and upon finding nothing wrong, he opened it, a greeting dying on his lips as he saw the man on the other side.

“Hi, Malfoy,” Harry Potter greeted, as if he greeted Draco Malfoy everyday.

“What are you doing here?”

“You owled me yesterday, remember?” Harry lifted the corners of his mouth and titled his head.

“You’re The Repairman?” Draco said trying to keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“I am,” Harry said. “Are you going to let me in or…?” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Yes, come in, then,” Draco said stepping inside. Harry passed and Draco caught a whiff of cinnamon and pine. He suddenly felt a vey strong urge to gather Harry to him and smell his hair.

“So, you said your hot water isn’t working?” Harry said from the other room. Draco hurried to catch up. “Just in the bathroom or everywhere?” Draco found him standing the middle of the sitting room.

“Everywhere, but Potter, stop,” Draco commanded as Harry started to exit the room.


“What do you mean ‘what?’ What do you think I mean?”


“You know what!”

“No, I don’t know what ‘what’ is what.”




“I wish you’d tell me!” Harry was laughing now and Draco could feel his cheeks heating with frustration, but suddenly he was laughing too.

“Just sit down, Potter,” Draco said once his voice was normal. Harry sat down, but unexpectedly right next to Draco, a small smile on his lips. He was looking so intently at Draco, Draco couldn’t help but utter, “What?”

Harry laughed again and Draco shook his head. “Nothing,” Harry responded. “I’m just glad it’s still like this.”

“What is still like this?” Draco furrowed his brows.

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry said. To Draco it did matter, it mattered immensely and before Draco could say something to that effect that didn’t actually reveal how much it mattered, Harry seemed to hear him all the same. “I just mean, I’m glad you and I are still like this. Not five minutes in a room together and we’re already bickering.”

Draco looked at Harry’s beaming face and said slowly, “Yes, I suppose, but it feels…different.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But, it’s not really a bad different is it?” Harry asked.

“No.” Draco really didn't know what was happening. One minute Harry Potter was here to fix his hot water and the next they were having a vaguely existential conversation. Draco decided that he didn’t in fact want to know what ‘what’ was and opted for sighing and standing. “What do you need to see? The faucets or…?”

“Where’s your hot water heater? This is a renovated flat, yes? It should be with your washer and dryer if you’ve got one.”

“Yes,” Draco answered and led him to laundry room.

Upon opening the door it was clear to Harry that the room had never been used. “I take it you don’t do much laundry.”

“That’s what house elves are for.” The statement was punctuated by an eye roll.

“You have house elves?” Harry looked around as if one would pop up any moment.

“Not here, they’re at the manor. Why?”

“Nothing,” Harry said. “It’s just the same-“

“But different,” Draco repeated. “Not that I’m not enjoying this little chat about how my laundry is done, but do you think you could tell me what’s wrong with my hot water?”

Harry was already fussing with the water tank as Draco finished his question. “Sure thing, Malfoy, just let me have a look. I’m not a wizard, you know.”

“I always knew you had inferior magical capabilities but I wouldn’t stoop to say you aren't a wizard.”

“It’s an expression Malfoy,” Harry said without looking up and to demonstrate that he waved his hand towards Draco, causing the door behind him to slam shut. “Still very much more powerful than…well most, really.”

“You’ve always been so full of yourself, haven't you?”

“Yes, but I’d much rather be full of some one else.”

“What?” Draco squawked, bracing himself on the dusty washing machine.

“It seems your pipes are all backed up,” Harry said rising, ignoring the confusingly panicked look on Draco’s face. 

“Excuse me?” Draco could not believe the nerve of Harry, to say such things to him in his own home.

“I mean there’s something in the pipes causing the hot water not to flow, so I’ll have to take a closer look, but I’l need some help.” Once Draco realized Harry was not talking about his own dry spell, and the actual pipes he let out a large puff of air. “You don’t mind do you?” Harry said reaching for his pocket.

“Mind what? You can’t expect me to help.”

“Of course not, you’d probably do more harm than good.”

“I’ll have you know I could definitely help! I am something of a repairman myself.”

“Then why didn’t you just fix it yourself?” Harry smirked.

“Because I can fix things for the love of Merlin, not pipes. I’m just saying that I’m good with my hands.”

Harry looked Draco up and down and said, “Well, that remains to be seen.” Before Draco had a chance to respond to that Harry continued. “But, I meant do you mind snakes?”

“What?” Draco’s brows knitted together. “No, of course not, I was a Slytherin, Potter. But why in the world-“ Draco trailed off when Harry withdrew a tiny green snake from his pocket and began to speak to it in parseltongue. Draco watched eyes wide as the snake slithered down Harry’s too-tight-to-be-a-repairman jeans and into the piping.

“Go ahead and ask, I know you want to,” Harry said walking past Draco to the door, Draco turned and followed Harry out, mildly annoyed with how comfortable Harry was in his home and how much Draco found he didn’t mind.

“Okay, how in the world did you get Granger to let you become a repair man?”

Harry started and let out a loud laugh as they entered the sitting room. “That is not the question people usually ask first,” Harry said plopping down on the couch. Draco sat down next to him delicately.

“Oh? What is then?”

“Usually it’s ‘why are you a repairman?’ first.”

“And second?”

“Why the fuck do you have a snake?’ or just general screaming.” Draco laughed at that.

“Well it’s quite easy to see why you’d become a repair man. Physical labour suits you, plus you’d get to choose your hours, your clients, and work mostly alone.” Harry gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “And the snakes are obvious, really. They can go where you can’t.”

“Yeah,” Harry said softly, that look still on his face. “So, why are you a repair man, then?”

“I’m not a repair man really,” Draco clarified, crossing his arms. “I restore things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Modern sport scars, Potter, what do you think? Magical things.”

“How did you come to do that?”

Draco looked pointedly away and said with as much strength as he could muster, “ I found I had knack for it.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly.

“Yes, ‘oh,’” Draco replied.

“Do you work alone?” Harry asked after a moment.

“No, Pansy and I have a shop together. She does paintings, I do trinkets and the like.”

“Oh,” Harry’s eyes lit up and he leaned into Draco. “I think I’ve heard of it. D&P Repairs and Restorations? That’s you, right?”

“Yes, that’s me. And Pansy, of course.”

“Do you like it?” Harry asked, his voice seeping earnest.

“Immensely,” Draco said immediately and then regretted it. Why was he telling Harry all of these things? It’s not as if they were friends. They hadn’t even really seen each other in the last five years at least. Even then, the extent of the exchange had been each other’s names.

“I’m really glad.” Harry’s voice slid through Draco’s thoughts.

“Do you like your job?” Draco asked before he could help himself.

“For now,” Harry answered.

“This is abnormal,” Draco said abruptly.

“What is?”

“Us. Talking. With words. And neither of us is about to hex or punch each other. It’s unnerving. I mean, I don’t think I’ve even insulted you once since you’ve been here.”

Harry leaned back a bit into the couch and grinned. “If you insult me now would that make you feel better?”

“That’s not the point, Potter,” Draco continued. “It’s the fundamental nature of the whole thing. We’re Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. We’re supposed to fight. We aren’t supposed to bicker like old women, or sit on my couch spilling our darkest secrets.”

“Saying you enjoy your job is your darkest secret? Your life sure has gotten boring since Hogwarts.”

“I’m a Malfoy, Potter. Any admission of emotion is a dark secret.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“If it helps, I’m great at keeping secrets,” Harry supplied.

“Not really, Potter,” Draco ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Harry said, reaching up to stop Draco from pulling on his hair. “Look, I get why you’re upset. It’s like I said before, the same, but different. But, you thought things between you and me had a certain concreteness, and now…now things don’t seem so solid and you don’t know what to do with it.”

Draco stood swiftly and glared at Harry, “I do not recall asking you to analyze me, Potter, you’re nothing but a glorified plumber; you are here to fix my pipes and nothing more.” Draco made his way to the door and threw over his shoulder, “I think it’s time for you to go, I trust you can collect your snake and see yourself out.” Draco turned and strode from the room.

In the safety of his bedroom Draco let out a choked gasp and leaned against the door. He was well aware that he had over-reacted. The fact that he had reacted at all was frustrating. Emotion was reversed for three people: his mother, Pansy, and Blaise. He made his way to his bed and sat down, facing away from the door. He sat there replaying the days events in his head and trying to make some sense of them. “That stupid fucking scarhead,” Draco said to himself. “Why does he always make me react without thinking?”

“Probably because you do the same thing to me.” Draco jumped and spun towards the door where he found Harry standing uncertainly, the small green snake wrapped around his forearm. “I’m sorry, it’s just Helga here found the block, and I was able to fix it, and I just wanted to tell you, and I know I should have probably knocked but, I heard you say ‘stupid fucking scarhead’ so I thought you heard me and then when I opened the door-“

“Potter!” Draco shouted and Harry stopped talking. “How much do I owe you?”

“Malfoy-” Harry said stepping further into the room.

“How much?” Draco said as he walked to the other side of the bed opening the drawer where he’d thrown his money much the night before. As he took the pouch out, a strip of paper that had been barely clinging to it fluttered to he ground before he could catch it. Harry, eager to show Draco how sorry he was, immediately reached for the paper. “Potter, no!” Draco snatched the paper back as quickly as he could but the look on Harry’s face too him it was too late.

“I-I’m sorry, I just-”

“Yes, I know,” Draco said through clenched teeth. He placed the strip of photos back into his drawer as casually as he could and looked Harry straight in the eye. “Out with it, then.”

“He’s a bellend.” Draco snorted a laugh and seemed to to deflate a bit. He sat on the bed and Harry sat next to him. “Really, I don’t know what happened but anyone who’d let go of the happiness in those photos is an idiot.”

Draco took the strip of photos out and looked at them. “I suppose we’re just going to have to have the heart felt conversation aren’t we? How predictable.” He didn’t look at Harry.

“Looks that way,” Harry said and after a pause, “Listen, Malfoy, about earlier…it’s just the same thing happened to me. There were things I thought I could always count on to stay the same, things that I wouldn’t have to worry about adjusting to. Water is wet, the ground is beneath me, and Draco Malfoy and I will fight. But then, things started to change, sometimes water was ice, and the ground was above me, and if those thing can change maybe we don’t have to fight.”

Draco said nothing for a long moment. “I don’t have a lot of truly happy memories from 14 on. This day this is one of them. He took me to this Muggle amusement park, and God it was sickeningly cute. We took these photos in one of those booths just after getting off this death trap called a coaster. And even though he is an utter cunt, I still keep these to remind me that, I can be this happy. I want to be this happy.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.” Draco put the photos back. “I wish I did.”

“Do you want to try?” Draco slowly turned his head to face Harry fully. “I mean, do you want to try, with me?”

“I know what you mean.”

“Oh, then why aren't you saying anything?”

“I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I did that would cause such a clear and specific hallucination.”

“Is that a no?” Harry asked fidgeting his fingers.


“Are you saying no, it’s not a no or no, no?”

“What? No.”

“No?” Harry’s face scrunched up in disappointment.

“Merlin, no, Potter,” Draco said before grabbing the back of Harry’s neck and pulling him into a kiss. Harry responded immediately and reached up to grab Draco’s arms. After a moment, they pulled apart. “I’ll try. With you,” he clarified.

Harry kissed him again and together the fell back onto the bed. “It would probably be wise to take things slowly,” Draco said between kisses.

“When have we ever done anything wise?” Harry answered, kissing his way down Draco’s jaw.

“A rather convincing argument you make, Potter,” Draco said, suppressing a moan.

Harry sat up and took his glasses off, tossing them on the bed side table. Draco reached up and slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt, feeling soft muscle beneath surprisingly almost hairless flesh, save for a defined happy trail. Harry began to unbutton Draco’s shirt as Draco continued to caress him.

“I seem to recall you saying that you were quite good with your hands,”  Harry teased.

“Would you like to test it out?” Draco reached for Harry’s groin and began palming his rapidly hardening cock through his tight jeans. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Harry merely moaned in response and shoved his head into the crook of Draco’s neck and began to nip at the skin there. “Don’t you think we ought to get rid of these clothes?”

Harry nodded, lifted his hand, and waved it around them. Their clothes, plus Draco’s duvet cover disappeared. “Potter!”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly, raising his head to look at Draco. “I can over do it if I’m not paying attention.”

“I liked that duvet cover, you arse,” Draco said biting at Harry’s now exposed peck.

“It’s only on the floor,” Harry answered, cradling Draco’s head.

“Where it’s getting wrinkled,” Draco chided, before swiping his tongue over Harry’s nipple. Harry’s reply was lost in a throaty groan. Draco continued to lavish attention to Harry’s chest with his mouth, his hands gliding over Harry’s hips until suddenly, Harry flipped them and straddled Draco’s waist.

“You know, I’m getting a little tired of your teasing, Malfoy,” Harry said, punctuating the thought with a thrust. their cocks sliding together with hot friction. Draco groaned and grabbed Harry’s hips to steady himself. “And I can’t say that you’ve proved your worth as a repairman.” Harry began to slowly circle his hip, causing Draco’s grip to tighten.

Draco leered up at Harry, “I can fix that.” His hands reached back and grabbed the globes of Harry’s ass and give them a squeeze before spreading them apart and sliding a finger down the crack with almost ghostly pressure. When Harry let out a moan, Draco pulled his hand back and gave his ass a harsh smack. Harry yelped, and Draco let his finger move further down, finding Harry’s hole. His finger circled the entrance before pulling away.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry said out of breath.

“Relax, Potter, you’re not the only one that can do some wandless magic.” The finger was back at Harry’s entrance, this time coated in lube. Draco traced his finger along the rim before plunging inside without warning.

“Oh my God,” Harry groaned leaning forward so he was laying atop Draco completely.

“I rather like the sound of that,” Draco answered, slowly pumping his finger in and out. Harry began to quiver atop him, as he curled his finger and continually brushed just before that sensitive spot in Harry, never quite applying enough pressure for Harry’s liking.

“You’re such a fucking prick,” Harry whined.

“Not yet I’m not,” Draco replied and added another finger. Harry let out a growl and sucked Draco’s ear into his mouth. Draco drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected action. He heard Harry chuckled as he traced the shell of Draco’s ear and Draco shoved his fingers in deep, directly onto Harry’s prostate.

“Fuck!” Harry shouted, his whole body tensing. Draco withdrew his fingers and repeated the motion until Harry was reduced to whimpers.

“Have I proved myself to be an adequate repairman yet?” Draco smirked.

“Yes,” Harry hissed. “But, I think I’ve had enough of your fingers don’t you?” With that, Harry reached back and pulled Draco’s hands from his ass. He then began to stroke Draco’s cock, moving his own hips just enough to allow it to press against his crack. Draco put his hands on Harry’s hips, and kneaded his thumbs into the skin, urging him backwards.

Finally, Harry drew himself up and lowered himself slowly onto Draco’s dick, grunting the whole way. Once he was fully seated, Draco turned his attention to the cock in front of him. “What’s the matter, Potter?” Draco asked, idly stroking it. “A bit too big for you?” he teased.

Harry’s eyes hardened. “You wish.” He raised himself and slammed backdown, causing them both to throw their heads back in pleasure. They soon built up a steady rhythm, Harry riding Draco so hard, his ass clapped against Draco’s thighs. Draco rolled his hips as Harry came down, ensuring that he would hit Harry’s prostate as he continued to stroke his cock with as much rhythm as he could.

“Is that the best you’ve got, Potter?” Draco puffed out, as he was nearing orgasm.

“I don’t think you could handle my best,” Harry answered, head bent in exertion.

Draco began to jerk Harry faster, removing his other hand from Harry’s hip to grab his chin harshly. “I can handle anything the likes of you can throw at me, Potter,” he rasped.

Harry smirked and immediately arched his back so he could reach behind him and cup Draco’s balls. He fondled them roughly, and Draco tightened his grip on Harry’s chin, pulling him down for a brusque kiss, giving Harry’s cock a hard tug as he did so. A moment later Harry pulled away and ground out, “Fuck Malfoy, I’m gonna come,”

Draco kept as much a steady hand on Harry’s dick as he could and placed his hand back onto Harry’s hips for support. “Well, go on, do it then,” Draco said. “Come on, Potter. Don’t you want to come all over me?”

“Fuck, yes. I want to come so hard it gets all over your stupid fucking face.” Harry was riding him with abandon now, Draco’s balls completely forgotten, instead Harry was using his chest as leverage. Draco bent his knees to allow Harry to go deeper.

“You could never,” Draco goaded, both hands on Harry’s hips now helping him slam down. “Your cum isn’t fit for my face. But isn’t it a pretty picture? Your cum spread across my cheeks? Dripping from my lips? My tongue?”

“Fuck!” Harry shouted, and he was coming, the first streams hitting Draco square in the mouth. “Fucking fuck!” Harry said as he looked down at Draco, biting a cum covered lip, and his cock began to spasm again.

Draco, with his knees bent, continued to guide Harry’s hips onto his own dick but couldn’t hold out much longer. When Harry leaned forward and using his tongue, swiped the cum from Draco’s lips, Draco lost control and came deep inside of Harry with a final thrust.

Harry fell forward, Draco’s cock still twitching inside him, and wrapped his arms around Draco’s head. They lay like that for a few minutes, catching their breaths and relishing in the after glow. Finally, Draco slipped out, but Harry stayed atop of him.

“Why did you say yes?” Harry asked directly into his ear.

“You really are quite dense, aren't you?” Draco chuckled.

“No, it’s just I really didn’t expect you to say yes.” Harry sat up and looked down at him.

“Did you not want me to?” Draco said his voice pitching higher.



“No, I wanted you to say yes!” Harry said quickly. “I was just surprised that you did.”

“Yes, I know it’s hard to believe that I would ever give you the time of day. What with how you look like a homeless third year on most occasions.”


“Oh, alright, I suppose you’re tall enough to be a fourth year.” Harry smacked his chest and rolled off him. He waved his hand and his wand came flying into his hand. Draco watched him curiously as he cast a cleaning charm. “That you use a wand for?”

“Ah, yeah,” Harry laughed. “Otherwise it’s more of an intense exfoliation charm.” Draco shuddered at the thought. “But really, why did you say yes?”

“I guess because you make me react without thinking.”

Harry curled himself into Draco’s side, as Draco wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “I didn’t have you pegged for a cuddler.”

“Yes, well any half wit with one eye could see the you’d like to snuggle after sex,” Draco said. “Just trying to make you feel comfortable.” Harry only chuckled in response. “Say Potter?”


“Firstly, why do you have a snake named Helga, and secondly, where is she?”