July 31st 2040
The room is completely dark apart from the small sphere of light that encircles the leather armchair in which sixty year-old Draco Malfoy sits. In his hand he holds a tumbler of firewhisky that he has yet to drink any of and beside him on a table a loaded ’45 sits. His eyes are focused somewhere in the distance and he is talking quietly, as if whispering to a long lost lover, ‘Harry…’ he trails off, ‘you’d be sixty with me now,’ Draco laughs mercilessly, ‘Happy birthday.’ He stops and seems to steel himself ‘was it my fault? I’d no idea you’d already decided. If I’d known… I wanted you to… I wanted you… on the last night, before you went.’ He is remembering…
1998 (42 years earlier)
Harry lay sprawled recklessly over Draco’s chest; he was slowly running the tip of his index finger around Draco’s rapidly hardening cock. Draco shifted in position, trying to concentrate.
‘Harry there is something I want you to have… you know just,’ Draco swallowed hard before he carried on, ‘just in case. Before you go.’ Draco was the only one who knew that Harry was going to go off tomorrow to find Voldemort and finish him for good.
Harry shifted on Draco’s chest purposefully rolling his rounded and tight arse over Draco’s length as he sat up, straddling his upper thighs and grinning when Draco’s breath hitched and stuttered, ‘another farewell present?’
‘What do you mean, another?’
‘You’ve already given me that beautiful book of poems. Don’t you remember’
Draco swallowed and looked away from Harry, ‘that was an attempt to stop you from going. This is to make sure you won’t forget me when you go,’ Harry who had been grinning, sighed in annoyance and slid off Draco’s chest to lay next to him again in their shared bed.
‘You make it sound as if I have a choice.’
‘Don’t you? You could stay with me at Malfoy Manor and live without fear there.’
‘Draco…’ Harry looked away from Draco’s searching gaze, trying to avoid an argument, ‘You know that I want to stay with you for the rest of our long lives…’
Draco cut in, not wanting to hear the ‘but’ that was clearly on the tip of Harry’s tongue, ‘So do.’
‘But,’ Harry said firmly, knowing they couldn’t avoid this any longer, ‘I cannot in good conscience leave Voldemort to kill off everything good and innocent in this country.’
Draco exploded, ‘Don’t be so pig-headed!’
‘Don’t shout, please. And I must say, you’re a fine one to call me pig-headed.’ Draco sneered at Harry and rolled away from him, so that his back was facing him. Harry turned away as well, tears welling up in his eyes.
Still facing away from Harry, Draco mumbled, ‘you still have the dreams. I’ve heard you.’
‘That makes no difference and there is nothing I can do about them.’
‘You could go to someone for help, Potter! This is why The Order wouldn’t let you go, you’re not ready!’ Draco sucked in a breath as he realised what he said and turned over slowly to face Harry. Only to find he was facing his back, which had stiffened with Draco’s shout.
Harry slowly relaxed again and Draco reached out a hesitant hand out to rest on his shoulder, ‘I can’t hide for the rest of my life Draco.’ Draco relented, squeezing Harry’s shoulder as the man turned over to face him.
‘No you can’t, I suppose.’ The anger seemed to have left both of them as quickly as it entered and Harry smiled softly at Draco when he apologised quietly.
‘Is there something special about the second of May?’ Draco raised his eyes in confusion to meet Harry’s.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve never heard you apologise before.’
‘Yes, well… don’t let it go to your head,’ Draco said smirking at Harry, who was glaring at him, he casts a tempus charm, before smiling even more smugly at Harry, ‘anyway there is still a few minutes left of the first of May.’
Harry scoffed, ‘Half an hour… come on, what’s this present you were going to give me?’
Draco looks down and away, ‘Oh yes,’ he turns over and rummages in the draw of his bedside table, letting out a noise of triumph when he finds what he is looking for. He turns back to face Harry and hands the delicately wrapped book to him, ‘I hope it inspires you. Or acts as an awful warning.’
Harry reads the flyleaf of the book, ‘“From Draco Malfoy. London 1997. When Captain Cook first sniff’d the wattle, And Columbus’d Aristotle…” Is this muggle literature? What does it mean?’
Draco shook his head slowly, ‘No, it is by some wizard. Don’t ask me what it means; it’s a quotation from the book. Ask the author.’
Harry raises an eyebrow and turns the book back over examining the faded lettering on the binding, ‘Aylmer Strong… Never heard of him.’
Draco sniffed and looked at Harry incredulously, ‘haven’t you? He sent it to me himself. He is rather famous Harry.’
Harry returned Draco’s incredulous look with one of his own, ‘You know him then?’
‘Certainly not. Even if I did do you think I’d admit to it?’
‘Then why should he send it to you?’
‘Look at the foreword’
Harry looked away from Draco and down at the book, delicately turning the pages until he found the foreword, he looked up at Draco and then back down at the book before reading it out, ‘“The proceeds of this book are intended to swell the funds of hospices established for the care of innocent children of convicted Death Eaters…” Oh, I see.’
Draco nodded and looked away from Harry, who had recently spread himself back over Draco’s naked body, his hand had again become busy with Draco’s rock hard erection, ‘Yes. And as if that weren’t enough, he piles on poetic palsy. Here,’ Draco gently removed the book from Harry’s unoccupied hand and flipped to a certain page, ‘there’s another one you might enjoy… Yes here it is. “What cassock’d misanthrope, Hawking Peace Canticles for glory gains, Jars, in mid ecstasy, th’epopt of hate.” Remarkable. Not that I understood much, but he crams in more consonants than even you do.’
Harry remained emotionless and unmoved; their game was to see who would be the first to laugh,
‘The what of hate?’
‘Th’epopt, of course.’
‘Of course… What’s a popt?’
‘No you dimwit,’ for that comment Draco received a sharp tug to his cock, which had him panting with pleasure, before huffing out, ‘Not a popt, epopt. The epopt. The’epopt!’
‘I see… What’s an epopt?’ Harry’s eye twitched as he clearly tried to contain his laughter.
‘Not entirely sure. Sounds like something rather worrying you buy in an apothecary,’ with that the laughter exploded from them. Harry was the one with the loudest laugh and Draco found it infectious. Eventually though, they calmed down again.
‘This is priceless. I’ll treasure it.’
Draco looked away embarrassed, ‘It’s nothing… All rubbish.’
Harry turned Draco’s head back towards him; finally he removed his fingers from Draco’s groin. Smiling at Draco he regarded him, before informing him that he would never know how to thank him.
Draco smirked at that and winked at Harry, ‘I’m sure I could think of a couple of things… and don’t be silly. No need for thanks.’
‘That’s exactly why I never know. You’re so grand.’
‘No need for ingratitude, either.’
Harry looked at Draco incredulously and rolled his eyes, ‘And stuck up.'
‘That is absolute rubbish…!’
‘And very English, and much too kind.’ Draco scoffed and drew in a breath when Harry examined his watch.
‘I should probably go to sleep.’
Draco shook his head in defiance and before Harry could do anything more, he drew his face down towards his own and pressed his lips fiercely against Harry’s. He slipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth and with a large groan Harry gave in to Draco, one of his hands tangled into his hair, the other roamed down Draco’s chest, drawing random trails and making Draco suck in a deep breath, before he, in return, furiously nipped and sucked down Harry’s neck.
Harry panted and drew away from Draco. He slithered down his body, his lips leaving a blazing trail in their wake. Draco held in the whimpers and moans that wanted to escape and arched his chest into Harry, not able to control the whine that dripped from his tightly pressed lips, ‘H…Harry, Please… Merlin.’
Harry chuckled and sucked Draco’s left nipple into his mouth, before he pulled on it gently with his teeth, twisting the right nipple with his right hand, whilst his left hand was occupied with smoothing down over Draco’s stomach. At this Draco couldn’t hold in his impatient whimper and the way his whole body arched into Harry’s ministrations. Harry complied with the hands that were urging him further down Draco’s body and slid his mouth over Draco’s taut belly, dipping his tongue into his bellybutton and sucking hard, which made Draco pant and bite down hard on his bottom lip, ‘Harry, please… Oh god… Pott…’ Draco was cut off by the breathless moan that escaped him when Harry engulfed his erection to the root with his sinful lips. Draco’s whole body arched up off the bed and Harry had to use his unoccupied hand to push Draco’s hips back down, he darted his tongue down the thick vein running the whole length of Draco’s cock, before pulling it as far into his mouth as he could go and swallowing. Draco threw his head back in ecstasy and let out a pitiful whine, grabbing Harry and pulling him back up the bed, plundering his mouth with his hot, wet tongue. Harry groaned and ground his erection into Draco’s, ‘Yes’ falling from his lips in a sibilant hiss.
Draco whimpered when Harry sucked particularly hard on his tongue and twisted his hand in an upward motion around Draco’s erection at the same time. Harry smirked and pulled back, the tip of his cock rubbing along Draco’s and causing his stomach muscles to clench involuntarily and his teeth to grind together; swallowing hard he leaned across the bed and retrieved the lube. Draco watched in anticipation as Harry poured the lube over his fingers, before reaching behind himself and slowing pushing his index finger in up to the first knuckle. Harry pursed his lips and, agonisingly slowly, pushed his finger in the rest of the way and desperately curled it. He reached down with his left hand, which had been occupied grasping the covers between white knuckled fingers, and seized Draco’s cock; pulling and twisting as he added a second finger and scissored them within himself. Harry let a deep moan slip past his kiss-swollen lips, before bending forward and desperately seeking Draco’s panting mouth. Draco grasped Harry’s occupied right hand and yanked it out, rolling Harry onto his back and resting on top of him. Grabbing the lube from beside them he slicked up three fingers and with no warning, distracting Harry with his lips and tongue on his throat and in his mouth, pushed his fingers to the hilt in Harry. Harry wrenched away from Draco’s mouth, panting, ‘Oh Merlin!’ here Harry swallowed, trying to control the waves of pleasure rolling through his body from where Draco, with skilled and knowing fingers, was pushing against his prostate.
‘Close Harry, though I thought you knew my name was Draco and not Merlin.’
‘Shut up, you… you…’ Harry sucked in a much-needed breath and glared without heat at Draco’s smirking face, smug bastard.
‘What was that Harry?’
‘Draco… Please…’ Harry broke off to gulp required air into his lungs.
‘What Harry? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.’
‘You know Draco!’
‘Do I?’ Draco accompanied his obnoxious question with a twist and pull of his fingers that had Harry nearly sobbing with longing.
‘Yes! You… Oh Merlin! Your fucking cock, Draco! Now!’
Draco smirked and agonisingly slowly, just to torture Harry, he pulled his fingers out, making sure to drag them roughly across Harry’s prostate. Harry growled threateningly, not that there was much he could do from his position, but still… Finally… finally! Draco pushed the head of his cock past Harry’s tight ring of muscle. Harry threw his head back and panted, a grimace of pain flashing across his features quickly, barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, which Draco was, he paused waiting for Harry to adjust to the intrusion before carrying on after Harry’s nod of approval. Merlin! Harry had forgotten how good Draco felt, it had been too long, the war had prevented any ‘couplings’ recently so for the last few months Harry had had to cope with his own hands, Harry panted at the mix of pleasure and pain, it had really been too long. Draco slid all the way in and held himself there to wait for Harry to adjust to Draco's thick length. Harry was nearly incoherent with the pleasure by now, barely comprehensible words tumbling past his lips with the insistent nudge of the tip of Draco's erection against his prostate. At Harry's insistent nod Draco pulled out agonisingly slow until just the tip of cock was left in, then pushed back in just as slowly, torturing Harry once again with his slow pace. Harry arched his back insistently, 'Come on! Draco. Please. More. I need more.' Draco smirked down at Harry and sped up his thrusts, pushing in deeper and harder, nailing Harry's prostate with almost every drive in.
Draco dipped his head to meet Harry's lips, pulling him into a deep kiss that stole Harry's breath and left him panting and delirious when Draco finally pulled away. He was still driving his cock against Harry's prostate with every thrust, turning Harry into a writhing, moaning mess beneath him. Harry was staring blearily up at the ceiling, his cherry red, kiss-swollen lips parted prettily and the fingers of his right hand twined so tightly into the bed sheets that it looked like he was about to rip a hole in them. His left hand was occupied with clutching Draco's shoulder tightly, holding on for dear life. As Draco drove harder and harder into him Harry's nails dug into his shoulder leaving imprints. Draco's hands were busy stimulating Harry by stroking slowly over his sides, twisting and pinching his nipples lightly between the pads of his fingers, and finally wrapping loosely around Harry’s throbbing erection and tugging and pulling until Harry’s was a panting, writhing mess on the bed, unable to form an coherent sounds beyond 'Draco and 'yes'.
'Are you gonna come for me Harry? Are you gonna paint my hand with your come? You look so hot when you come... unh... I’m gonna come Harry, come for me.' Draco tightened the hand on Harry’s cock, pulling harder and faster in time with his thrusts. Using his other hand to grab Harry’s thigh, hitching it higher up on his hip, changing the angle and thrusting in harder and deeper, hitting Harry’s prostate dead on with each slow dragging thrust. Harry keened and whined, throwing his head back on the pillow, digging his fingers even harder into Draco's shoulder, the other hand rising and twining through Draco’s hair, tugging Draco's head down to his and into a sloppy kiss that turned his insides over in heated pleasure. Draco's thrusts were becoming sloppy with the pleasure spiraling through him, turning his normally impeccable speech into incoherent, pleasured grunts and moans that rose in a cacophony of noise over Harry’s own moans. Harry arched off the bed as he came with a scream, his vision whiting out, his toes curling and the hand in Draco's hair pulling even harder. For Draco the sensation of pain mixed with the pleasure from Harry’s arse tightening nearly unbearably around him caused the most powerful orgasm of his life to be pulled from him. Draco collapsed on top of Harry completely breathless. Harry groaned at the extra weight pushing Draco off of him. Draco slid clumsily to lie next to Harry as they both got their breath back.
Wrapping his arms around Harry, Draco started to drift to sleep, the pleasant hum from his orgasm still pulsing through him.
In the morning Draco woke up still wrapped tightly around Harry, their bodies pressed together from head to toe, their legs tangled closely and Draco was pretty sure that Harry’s left hand was currently resting against his arse. Not that Draco minded. Harry slowly stirred against Draco, curling even tighter against him for a second before pulling away completely and dragging himself from the bed after wishing Draco a good morning. Draco watched the slight limp that their jaunt last night had caused Harry, smirking proudly to himself. He eventually rolled himself out of bed and tried to stop from shuffling over to the wardrobe, damn, he was picking up Harry’s habits. When Harry entered the room again, completely dressed, Draco realised that they would have to address the rather large elephant in the room – the matter that he had tried to avoid discussing yesterday. Harry turned to Draco inquisitively when Draco cleared his throat to capture Harry’s attention. He immediately noticed the look of worry and resigned sadness in Draco’s eyes when he turned around. Harry approached him warily before wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist, pulling him in and hugging him for a long time, silently kissing away the tears that had started to roll down his cheeks, ignoring the break from his usual stoniness.
Surprisingly to Harry, Draco was the one to break the silence, when Harry went to pull away, ‘No, not yet.’ Harry conceded, staying in Draco’s arms for a while longer, ‘Oh…’ Harry looked up at Draco when he gulped down some air, ‘I shall be… When you’ve gone… so…’
Harry came to Draco’s rescue interrupting his stumbling confession, ‘I’ve been very proud, you know. Proud of our relationship. Boasting about it to everybody I’ve met since August – that first day when I knocked at your door.’
‘Timid as a harvest mouse,’ Draco smiled sadly down at Harry, ‘You looked rather like a harvest mouse, too. Eyes wide with trepidation…’
‘My high school rival, the Slytherin Prince.’
‘Until you got to know me better.’
‘And then it was more.’ Harry stops talking and steps away from Draco’s embrace. Draco hands him a sealed piece of parchment from his pocket that he had retrieved earlier whilst Harry was in the bathroom.
‘I nearly forgot. You’ll need this.’
‘Not another present…?’
‘Not really. Help and instructions from Snape. Could be of use. Hope so. So… It’s been… good.’ Draco offered Harry his hand. Harry didn’t take it, ignoring its presence between them.
‘It’s been…’ Harry went to embrace Draco, but he stopped him, seemingly angry.
‘You must take great care of yourself – for all of us – for me.’
Harry smiled at Draco softly, ‘Is that an order?’
‘A strict order.’
‘Then I will. For you.’ Suddenly Harry lurched forwards and they kissed. There was probably as much fear as love in the kiss. Draco lets go of Harry. Stepping back from one another.
‘Look, you’re forgetting Mr. Strong’s masterpiece.’
‘No, I’d never…’ Harry stopped himself reaching into his pocket and taking two sheets of parchment out. He handed them to Draco, ‘this… I didn’t mean it to be funny, but you never know.’
‘Like everything else. There’s a note, too.’ Harry stopped Draco when he went to unfold the paper; ‘I think I want you to read it after I’ve gone.’
Draco put the paper into his pocket, ‘Very well.’
‘And I’ll read this later.’
‘As long as you don’t shriek with laughter and keep everybody awake. You have to go!’
‘Yes.’ Harry looked away for a minute and then looked back, briefly checking his wand was still in his pocket, ‘Draco...’
Draco shook his head, cutting Harry off, ‘Goodbye. Don’t die Harry.’
‘Yes, do. You must,’ having looked at his watch Draco suddenly burst out with a ‘Go!’ and after one last look at each other Harry walked out of the room, never to re-enter.
Draco was left, sitting on the bed.
2013 (15 years later – 27 years earlier)
Draco looked across to his desk, rising he crossed towards it, picking up some sheets of parchment on which he was working. It was a memoir of Harry Potter. Draco reads it out loud to himself.
‘He did leave to fight the Dark Lord. Fifteen years ago, on May 1st 1998, when my dear Harry Potter had…’ Draco stopped reading to underline the word, ‘exactly twelve hours to live…’ Draco slumped heavily into his desk chair, head in his hands as he contemplated the horrible truth of this statement, ‘that parting would have been easier if we’d had any confidence that either of us would live to meet again. There wasn’t much hope of it. The war in which he and I fought inspired hope with the same wasteful recklessness with which it slaughtered the people who dared to hope. By 1998 His appetite for death grew daily by what He fed on.’
Draco stared at the bed where him and Harry had shared their last moments, ‘all the same, the parting was harder even than the fear of each other’s death… I believe that neither of us knew how close that relationship had become – how much we’d learned to depend on each other – until we looked at a future apart.’Draco placed the memoir of Harry down and turned to his bedside cabinet drawing the two sheets of parchment from within and settling down on the bed with them. They are clearly thumbed and faded from the fifteen years that have passed. Draco starts to read aloud to himself again, ‘you will find something of yourself in this. But everything I do from now on will owe something to you. You made this all possible…’ Draco trailed off, swallowed around the pain and lump in his throat and skimmed down the painful part of letter, his eyes catching on a phrase that never failed to draw his attention and filling with fresh tears.
Draco found himself unable to go on reading and shoved the letter into the draw, curling up on himself and letting the pain of living without Harry wash over him.
2040 (Present day)
Draco smiles sadly as his memories of Harry wash over him, drowning him in sorrow once again. He looks up at the ceiling, but his eyes are unfocused as though he is looking past the ceiling, at something intangible. He hardly flinches at the sharp burn of firewhisky burning its way down his throat and turns his head to the gun on the table.
‘I lived 42 years without you Harry. I can’t take any longer.’ Draco places his drink on the table, reaches for the gun, placing it inside his mouth – the quickest and most effective way to die. He smirks at the irony of dying at his own hand, with a muggle weapon and pulls the trigger.
Draco wakes up in a pure white room and finds Harry in front of him. Their reunion is long and tearful and when they depart to the afterlife Draco is happy for the first time in 42 years.