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Chapter Text

October 1
Prompt: Hot
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco (pre-slash)

Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to somehow outrun the torturous heatwave that had spread throughout Scotland. His clothes stuck to him, uncomfortably damp, and even cooling charms were no match for the blazing sun. He’d removed his robes long ago, traversing the castle corridors in only black trousers and white button-up. His sleeves were shoved up his arms as far as they could go, and he’d even slipped his trainers off as he sat back from the sputtering flame beneath his cauldron.

They’d all been suffering for days, grimacing as sweat slid down their backs and pooled at their throats. The girls had discarded their usual hair routines, instead opting for high ponytails and messy buns, while the boys had no such relief. He wasn’t looking forward to the upcoming Quidditch match, certain not only that he’d sweat through his kit immediately, but that the spectators would be sparse and disgruntled.

As he idly gazed around the room, Harry wondered just how much longer they’d have to stand it. Even Snape had undone his top button, a hint of sallow skin peeking through, and Harry frowned and turned his head. His gaze caught on Malfoy, and he took a sharp breath. The usually buttoned-up blonde looked more disheveled than he’d ever seen him, sweat beading around his hairline and strands loose from the usual gelled hold. He’d slipped his robes off his shoulders, and they clung to his arms just above where his rolled sleeves stopped. The first two buttons of his top had been undone, and his tie hung loose and askew around his neck.

Harry’s lips parted, his eyes tracing a drop of sweat as it slid past Malfoy’s ear and down his jaw, dangling for a moment before slipping slowly down his neck. Malfoy swallowed, no doubt parched from the oppressing heat, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed. Harry licked his lips, watching the sweat seep into the spread collar of Malfoy’s top before his gaze fell to the triangle of pale skin framed by the material. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted his collarbone, the hollow of his throat slick with moisture, and Harry had the sudden, all-consuming urge to slide his tongue over the expanse and taste him.

Harry gasped, quickly turning back to the front as a bright blush overtook his face. He spent the rest of Potions with his gaze upon his book, praying to Merlin that the heat wave ended soon.

Chapter Text

October 2
Prompt: Sweet
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco
T/W: D/S play, bondage, gags

Draco trailed his fingertips over Harry’s face, smiling softly as he pushed the damp fringe to the side. His chilled hands cooled Harry’s heated skin, and he paused to take in the beauty spread before him. He bent at the waist to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek, and Harry sighed, his eyes fluttering open.

“There now,” Draco whispered, cupping Harry’s jaw, “Wasn’t that nice?”

He slid his other hand from Harry’s waist, up his side, until he reached the thin black leather that lashed across Harry’s chest. He ran a finger over the edge, his nail scraping softly over Harry’s nipple, and Harry whined pathetically.

“Didn’t you enjoy yourself?” Draco glanced up from the flushed skin, his eyes crinkling as he grinned. “Sorry, love,” he chuckled, moving closer to the head of the rack Harry was strapped to. He reached behind Harry’s head, unbuckling the ball-gag, and Harry stretched his jaw as soon as it had been slipped free.

“Yes,” Harry said, his voice rough from use. Draco arched a brow, tilting his head in challenge, and Harry cleared his throat. “Yes, master.”

Draco smirked, “That’s a good boy.” He slipped his fingers over the straps that bound Harry’s hands above his head, then danced them down Harry’s body until he reached Harry’s softened cock. “What do you think?” he asked, brushing a finger over the shaft and pulling a whine from Harry’s throat, “Shall I be kind today, and give you what I know you want?”

Harry swallowed, carefully keeping his focus on Draco’s hand. Draco circled his flaccid dick with a single finger and thumb, applying light pressure as he slowly traced the length of him, and Harry bit his lip against the moan that threatened. Draco gleefully watched him struggle, knowing how much willpower it took for Harry to keep silent.

Draco hummed, “My mistake.” He abruptly pulled his hand away, and Harry keened softly. “Must not want it so badly, if you’re not even going to ask for it.”

Harry gasped, “No, please! I do want it, I do!” Draco smiled, stepping away from the rack and keeping his back to Harry. The leather around Harry’s wrists creaked as he pulled on it, whining softly. “Please! I’ll do anything, please!”

Draco glanced over his shoulder with an arched brow. “Anything?”

Harry nodded frantically, and Draco turned, taking leisure steps as he moved to stand between Harry’s spread legs. He ran a palm over each of Harry’s bound ankles, gliding up his legs until he reached mid-thigh. He looked up into Harry’s desperate face with a smirk. “Alright then, but you aren’t allowed to come.”

October 7
Prompt: Leather
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry tugged against the leather straps with a whimper, and Draco repeated himself. “You aren’t allowed to come, is that understood?”

Harry swallowed thickly, “Yes, master.”

Draco nodded, moving to stand directly in front of him, then fell to his knees. Harry squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation, his lower lip held tightly between his teeth. He absolutely loved when Draco took his softened cock into his mouth, but it never lasted long enough. The stimulation always forced him to stiffness, no matter how many different methods he tried to keep it at bay.

Draco plucked at the straps on either side of Harry’s dick, pressing his hips down against the rack he lay upon, and Harry squirmed as much as he could within the confines. Draco tilted his chin down, his lips parting to breathe warm air over Harry’s prick, and Harry whined, twitching slightly. He smoothed his palms against Harry’s groin, just on the outside of the straps, then leaned forward to mouth over the softened appendage.

Harry let out a quiet moan, straining against the crisscrossing leather in an attempt to lift his hips, and Draco chuckled softly. Draco’s tongue darted out to slide over Harry’s glans, catching the dribble of come clinging to the slit, and Harry groaned. Draco swirled just the tip of his tongue around the minute area peeking from Harry’s foreskin, then wiggled beneath the sheath to glide over the rest, and Harry gasped, pulling at his bindings fruitlessly.

Draco leaned back, glancing up Harry’s body. His skin was flushed, and he held his hands in tight fists. Draco couldn’t see his face, but he imagined it was screwed up in desperate need. He waited a few moments, until Harry made a pathetic sound in his throat, then swooped down and took all of him into his mouth.

Harry cried out, the rack creaking with the force of his restricted movements, and Draco hummed, curling his tongue over the wrinkled skin. Harry whimpered, his eyes open and blinking at nothing as Draco sucked on his pliable cock. Draco used his tongue to roll Harry’s foreskin down, exposing the glans before sinking further. He hollowed his cheeks as he pulled back, his eyebrows twitching at the pulse he felt against his tongue.

Draco continued to glide his lips down Harry’s shaft, swirling his tongue around the base and stretching him as he pulled back, until he could no longer easily fold the appendage over itself. Blood had begun to rush downward, thickening and lengthening Harry’s prick and forcing Draco’s lips to widen. He sank down as far as he could one last time, holding Harry in his throat and swallowing around him as Harry whined and moaned, then pulled off completely.

Harry cried out in distress, his erection bobbing in the air, and Draco stood with a smirk.

“Why did you stop?” Harry asked breathlessly.

Draco took two steps backward, removing himself from Harry’s thighs. “You aren’t allowed to come, remember?”

“I won’t, I promise!”

Draco hummed, swiping at the corners of his lips. “Better safe than sorry, don’t you think?”

October 10
Prompt: Power
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry keened, pressing the back of his head against the rack. “Please don’t stop. I promise, I can control myself.”

Draco hummed, stepping to Harry’s side. “I don’t believe you can.”

Harry whimpered, his cock bobbing as he squirmed against his restraints. “Let me prove it.”

Draco tilted his head, his gaze running the length of Harry’s body before he bent at the waist. Harry accepted the kiss pressed to his lips greedily, lifting his head to follow when Draco pulled back. Draco chuckled, sliding their cheeks together as he moved toward Harry’s ear. “Imagine my lips wrapped around your cock, slowly sinking down until I’ve swallowed you completely.”

Harry groaned, his arms twitching as he tugged on his bindings.

Draco smirked, sliding his fingers over Harry’s collarbone and flicking his nipples with the pads of his fingers. “My hot, wet mouth surrounding you, sucking and swallowing as my tongue circles your head.”

The rack creaked as Harry tried to lift his hips, flexing minutely into the air with a strangled moan as Draco’s lips brushed his ear.

“My fingers tugging on your bollocks before pressing against your hole,” Draco whispered, sliding his palm down Harry’s abdomen.

Harry bit his lip, his eyes squeezed shut as Draco’s fingers brushed across his pubic hair.

“Would you be able to control yourself, with my fingers inside you and my mouth around you?” Draco asked, sucking Harry’s earlobe into his mouth.

Harry gasped, “Oh fuck, please, please.”

Draco combed his fingers through Harry’s soft curls, carefully avoiding his cock, and Harry whimpered and groaned. “I don’t think you could.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open as Draco’s hand and mouth disappeared, his gaze searching the room wildly until he found Draco several steps away. “I can. I can!” he cried desperately. “Let me show you.”

A grin spread on Draco’s face, and he turned toward the door. “I think, instead, I’ll let you cool down for a bit.”

Harry whined, “No, don’t leave. I’ll be good!”

Draco glanced over his shoulder as he stepped through the doorway, burning Harry’s distressed face into his memory before he closed the door behind him. Harry’s needy cry brought a satisfied smirk to his lips, and he leaned against the door with a sigh, counting the minutes.

October 11
Prompt: Tease
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry gawked at the closed door, then squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper. His wrists ached from his many escape attempts, and his erection bobbed uselessly as Draco’s words circled in his mind. He took deep, calming breaths as his heart rate slowed, knowing that the faster he stepped back from the edge, the sooner Draco would return to tease him further. He grit his teeth, determined to make good on his assurances this time.

He lay strapped to the rack, the chill air settling on his skin with a shiver, for several minutes. He occupied the time by thinking about mundane tasks and old Quidditch games; anything to force down his excitement. A dull ache grew in his abdomen, spiraling out from his bollocks, and he lifted his head to confirm he’d finally deflated. He sighed, his head rolling to one side as he waited for Draco to breeze back into the room.

Draco smirked as he pushed open the door, pleased Harry had managed to rein in his desire. He improved with each session, and Draco was confident that soon, Harry truly would be able to follow his direction and not come without permission. Harry watched him stalk slowly toward him, his gaze hungry, and Draco flicked his eyes down Harry’s body. Harry’s flaccid cock jerked under his stare, and Draco lifted a brow.

“Have you had enough?”

Harry shook his head slowly, his lips pressed tightly against his teeth.

“You still wish to prove yourself?”

Harry swallowed, his cock already beginning to stiffen as Draco approached his side, and nodded.

Draco hummed, reaching above Harry’s head to remove the bindings around his wrists. Harry sucked in a breath as Draco’s silken robes brushed against his side, the stimulation only serving to send more blood below his waist. He audibly exhaled as his wrists were released, groaning as he lowered his arms to his sides.

“No touching,” Draco warned.

Harry nodded, watching as Draco circled him to step again between his thighs. He’d already thickened past the point of pliability, and Draco smirked as he slid his hands up Harry’s shins.

“Shall we see how long you can last, this time?”

Harry clenched his jaw and nodded, whining softly as Draco reached his groin.

Draco danced his fingers over Harry’s shaft, swiping his thumb in the gentlest of touches over his slit, and Harry blew out a breath, his hands already balled into fists at his sides. He slid a finger against Harry’s frenulum, then circled the ridge of his glans, delighting in the quiet whimpers that emanated from above. He glanced up, grinning as he watched Harry bite harshly at his bottom lip. He glided his other hand up the inside of Harry’s thigh, watching Harry’s face closely.

Harry’s mouth dropped open in a gasp when Draco’s fingers finally curled around his shaft, his hips thrusting upward as much as he was able. Draco chuckled, running his other hand down the crease of Harry’s thigh until he reached his heavy bollocks. He rolled Harry’s bollocks in his palm while slowly stroking his shaft, and Harry groaned and moved to grip the sides of the rack tightly.

Draco licked his lips, slowly increasing the speed and pressure of his fist as he watched Harry’s eyes flutter closed. He tugged on Harry’s bollocks, his own cock twitching as Harry’s face screwed up in determination. The flush to Harry’s skin and the erratic twitching of his hips were tell-tale signs that he was edging closer to orgasm, and while Draco loved to watch Harry come, he wasn’t finished undoing him yet.

Harry’s eyes snapped open with a desperate whine as Draco pulled his hands away, his unfocused eyes already pleading. Draco smirked, sliding a single finger up Harry’s shaft, and Harry whimpered softly. He brushed his thumb over Harry’s glans, picking up the precome leaking from his slit, and glanced up as he slowly brought his thumb to his lips. Harry groaned, his hips flexing against the leather straps as he watched Draco swirl his tongue around the digit.

Draco brought both hands to the tops of Harry’s thighs. “Don’t worry, I’m only helping you keep your promise,” he said, scratching his nails softly down Harry’s legs.

October 21
Prompt: Praise
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Draco watched Harry take deep breaths, his cock bobbing in the air as Draco soothed the thin red lines his fingernails had left behind. Harry sighed as Draco reached his groin, fingers dancing over the leather holding him in place. He sucked in a breath when Draco moved to unbuckle them, freeing his hips, and lifted his head as Draco took a step back.

Draco smirked, deftly unfastening his trousers and sliding his bottoms down his thighs, and Harry groaned and let his head fall back. Draco watched Harry’s hips shift with anticipation, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip on the sides of the rack, and smiled as he flicked his wand.

“You’re doing so well, love,” Draco whispered, sliding his palms up Harry’s inner thighs.

Harry whimpered as the lube spell slicked his insides, his dick leaking against his abdomen, and bit his lip as Draco’s fingers slipped between his arsecheeks and brushed his entrance. Draco groaned as the muscle twitched against the pad of his finger, licking his lips as he pressed lightly against it. He tilted his chin down to watch his finger breach Harry’s entrance, his prick achingly hard as Harry made soft noises in his throat.

Draco paused at the first knuckle, working just the tip of his finger in and out, and Harry flexed his hips, attempting to force Draco deeper. Draco chuckled, watching Harry struggle for a moment, then plunged his finger into him as far as it would go. Harry cried out, his lower back bowing off the table before he ground his hips down with a low moan.

“Remember what I said,” Draco panted, his own desire beginning to overtake him as he worked Harry open, “You’re not allowed to come.”

Harry whined, lifting his head from the rack. “Not at all?”

Draco growled softly, pressing a second finger into him and watching Harry’s eyes roll back before he responded. “Not until I say you can.”

Harry nodded rapidly, his breath coming in short gasps through parted lips. “Okay, I promise.”

Draco smirked, scissoring his fingers as he began to stroke himself with his other hand. “We’ll see.”

Harry keened when Draco abruptly pulled his fingers free, only to gasp a moan when they were replaced with his cock a moment later. Draco groaned as he pushed into him, the tight heat and already pulsing walls enough to kickstart a simmer low in his groin. Heat licked up Harry’s spine as Draco’s hips began flex, a constant stream of quiet moans falling from his lips. The edge of ecstasy rushed to meet him as Draco thrusted harder, his grip bruising on Harry’s hips, and Harry squeezed his eyes closed. He was desperate to meet Draco’s expectations, to prove he could keep his word, and he compressed his arsehole tightly in an effort to stave off his orgasm.

Draco groaned at the extra pressure, his hips snapping as he searched for Harry’s prostate while chasing his pleasure. He shifted his stance, angling his thrusts slightly to the left, and Harry gave a high-pitched moan, chest straining against his remaining restraints.

“Oh, fuck, Draco! Can I come?” Harry panted, a steady stream of precome dribbling from his tip. “Please, can I come?”

Draco growled, the desperation in Harry’s voice driving him to the edge. “Not yet.”

Harry whimpered as Draco continued to piston his hips, tugging him slightly with each forward thrust. His skin began to tingle, his pulse beating in his ears, and he squeezed his eyes closed. Draco slid over his prostate a second time, and Harry gasped, his hand flying to the base of his cock to grip it tightly.

“I said,” Draco grunted, his thrusts growing erratic, “No touching.”

Harry whined, delaying his release for only a moment with his tight fist, then relinquished himself, his hips lifting slightly. “Gods, oh fuck, please! I can’t hold back any longer. Please master, can I come?” he nearly sobbed.

Draco’s orgasm crashed over him as Harry’s begging rang in his ears, and he moaned as he painted Harry’s insides. Harry took short, quick breaths as Draco filled him, his cock throbbing and bollocks tight against him.

“Yes, fuck,” Draco panted, working himself through his orgasm. “Let me feel you come on my dick.”

Harry let out a relieved moan, immediately coming on his chest and abdomen in thick ropes. Draco groaned as Harry tightened around him, the pressure forcing another surge of come from his nearly spent prick. Harry’s hips flexed minutely as he came, working Draco’s rapidly deflating cock slowly out of him, and Draco bit his lip as he watched with half-lidded eyes.

Draco sighed contentedly once Harry was finally still, an arm thrown over his eyes and breath still coming in quick puffs, and slipped the rest of the way free. Harry whimpered, his hips jerking slightly, but remained motionless otherwise.

“Well done, pet,” Draco said, working his way over the straps around Harry’s thighs and ankles. “You were so good, and you followed the rules so well.”

Harry’s lips tipped up into a lazy grin, and he removed his arm from his face as Draco unfastened the last of the straps holding him in place. “Does that mean I finally get to do this to you now?”

Draco chuckled, cupping Harry’s face as he bent to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, love.”

Chapter Text

October 3
Prompt: Smokey
Characters/ships: Harry/Ginny

Harry sighed as he stared up at the flashing neon sign. He tried to avoid such seedy Muggle attractions, the bar likely filled with half-conscious barflies and the dance floor cluttered with drunken, scantily dressed bodies, but this was where Ginny wanted to end the evening. They’d hopped from pub to pub, beginning with respectable Wizarding establishments before she quickly got bored and dragged him to the Muggle scene.

He’d agreed to the outing because they’d started to drift apart, spending their days separately and moving through their lives as individuals instead of a couple, and he assumed the night would be a quiet, intimate meeting to get back on the same page. Ginny had had other ideas after her first two beverages, her gaze practically desperate as she begged him to go dancing. Harry thought dancing meant some formal dance hall, and while he was less than enthused, he was enticed by the promise of wrapping his arms around his girlfriend without a pint in her hand. Had he any inkling that she meant a club, he’d have turned her down flat.

He gave the first Muggle establishment she picked the benefit of the doubt, but it was just as awful as he’d anticipated. Ginny dragged him to the dance floor, signaling to the wandering bikini-clad waitress for two bright green shots, and Harry sipped his slowly while being buffeted side to side. He was pleased when she’d wanted to leave shortly after, but his hope sank as she pulled him into the next, more unkempt building, and he’d stayed by her side more for her protection than any possible enjoyment.

The air was thick with smoke as they entered the latest of Ginny’s bad decisions, and he coughed as the bitter flavor clung to the back of his throat. He waved his hand in front of his face, the temptation to break the Statute of Secrecy stronger than it had ever been, and exhaled loudly when Ginny bounded straight to the dance floor. Needing a break from the sweaty bodies that would inevitably be rubbing against him as soon as he joined her, Harry headed for the bar instead.

The first thing his gaze landed on through the haze was an elegant hand, lifting a burning cigarette to pillowy lips. His eyes tracked the pink tongue that darted across before a cloud of smoke was pushed from between them. He stumbled at the sight of the slightly pursed pout, tracing the chiseled jaw and straight nose as he edged ever closer. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, eyes following as a lock of platinum hair was pushed daintily behind one ear.

The stranger turned slightly, putting him in full profile, and Harry gasped as he recognized the person currently contributing to the pollution of the area. He sucked in a lungful of the smog, immediately coughing as he reached the side of the bar and drawing the surrounding patrons’ attention.

“Potter?”

Harry looked up, cheeks red from more than just the sudden expulsion of acrid air, and met Draco Malfoy’s amused gaze.

“Never thought I’d see you in a place like this.”

October 4
Prompt: Aroma
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco (Background Harry/Ginny)

He wasn’t sober. He knew he wasn’t, and in the humbling light of day, he’d likely cringe at every memory that would surface of the evening. But right now, staring into the depths of Draco’s eyes, veiled by the soft blanket of cigarette smoke, he simply didn’t care.

“I could say the same to you,” Harry finally responded, answering Draco’s jab from minutes ago.

Draco chuckled, “Had a few, have you?”

The smirk on his lips, once cruel and rage-inducing, evoked an emotion that Harry hadn’t felt in quite a long time, and he swallowed against the urge to chase it. He turned his head instead, ripping his gaze from Draco’s pouty lips to search for the bartender.

“Come now, no need to be rude.”

Harry shivered as the softly spoken words floated over his ear and turned abruptly to his right. Draco had silently sidled up to him, their shoulders a hair’s breadth from brushing, and his gaze danced in amusement. Harry clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to Draco’s lips before turning back to the finally approaching barkeep, missing the quirk of an interested blonde brow.

Draco bent forward to rest an elbow on the bar top, his chin cradled in his hand as he stared up at Harry. “I’m curious, though, why are you here?”

Harry took a deep breath, the burn of smoke almost a welcome distraction from the warmth radiating from Draco, and he closed his eyes as he took a long sip of his whiskey.

Draco watched as Harry’s throat worked, pulling his lower lip between his teeth, and when Harry finally focused on him, the sight sent him spiraling. His glass clattered to the bar top, his fingers giving up an inch before the heavy bottom met the pitted wood, and Draco shot out a hand to save the precious liquor from coating the surface. Harry’s gaze darted over Draco’s face, eyes bright with freedom and inebriation, and he licked his lips before jerking his head to the right.

Draco glanced over his shoulder, searching the dance floor for only a moment before he caught sight of flaming tresses, and he hummed in understanding. “No choice then, eh?” He flicked his eyes back to Harry, who’d inched slightly closer in their absence, and tilted his head. “Why aren’t you out there with your girlfriend?”

Harry let his gaze fall down Draco’s body, following the row of buttons to his waistband before tracing the perfect creasing of his trousers as a tingling, which had nothing to do with any drink, hummed over his skin. When he returned to Draco’s face, his gaze was heated, and he watched with slightly parted lips as Draco popped the first button of his top with one hand. “I’d rather not.”

Draco lifted a brow. “Rather not, what?”

“Be with her.”

Draco rolled his lips inward, stepping forward to close the distance between them, and Harry lifted his chin to maintain their stare. “Is that so?”

Harry nodded, raising a hand to brush a stubborn lock of hair behind Draco’s ear, and Draco leaned forward. Harry took a deep breath, his eyes falling shut as Draco’s palm settled on his hip. “You smell like honeysuckle,” he whispered, the delicate scent ousting the swirling cloud of fumes and sweaty desperation from his nostrils.

Draco hummed, tilting his head to brush his lips against Harry’s ear. “And what do I taste like?”

October 5
Prompt: Vanilla
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

“Vanilla,” Harry groaned, his head tilting backward as Draco kissed down his neck. “You taste like vanilla.”

Draco grinned, swirling his tongue over Harry’s clavicle before lifting his head. “Is that right?”

Harry whimpered, twisting his fingers into Draco’s pristine top and tugging him closer. The buttons on his chest strained with the force of Harry’s grip, the material gaping to hint at the supple skin beneath, and Harry licked his lips as he returned his gaze to Draco’s face.

He’d tried to resist, tried to ignore the challenge that Draco had set as they stood an inch apart at the bar, but Draco’s lips were too inviting, his tone too defiant, and Harry allowed the desire he’d been pushing down for the last several minutes to win. Draco had pulled back to stare at him after that whispered question, a confident smirk on his lips, and Harry wiped it off the only way he knew how.

Draco took a sharp breath as Harry wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, bending obediently when Harry tugged him down, his cigarette long forgotten in the nearest ashtray. Harry paused, glancing between Draco’s eyes as his fingers brushed through soft strands, and Draco arched a brow. Harry frowned, lifting onto his toes to press a forceful kiss to Draco’s lips, and Draco gasped, his hands lifting to wrap around Harry’s upper back.

The kiss was broken when some disgruntled patron elbowed Draco in the back, and he turned a glare over his shoulder before taking hold of Harry’s hand and dragging him into a back room. Harry went willingly, without so much as a backward glance in Ginny’s direction, and Draco pushed him against the wall as soon as the door had closed behind them.

Draco’s lips were as soft as they appeared, but his kiss was searing. Harry’s skin flamed with every touch and press of lips, his body aching for the attention that he hadn’t realized he’d been missing, and he relished the overt desire. He desperately wanted to run his hands over Draco’s chest, to feel the smooth, cool skin he could see peeking out, and the lubrication of alcohol helped him shove aside the whispering voice of reason that told him it might be a bad idea.

Harry didn’t care if Draco hated him in the morning, or if he regretted his actions once he sobered up; all he cared about was feeling more than Draco’s expensive clothing in his hands, and he determinedly reached out to begin slipping buttons through.

October 6
Prompt: Cinnamon
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Draco sighed when Harry dipped a hand between his widening collar, the rough pads of his fingers sending tiny sparks over his skin. Most of Harry’s irises had been swallowed by his pupils, but the obvious want still shown clearly. Draco dipped his head, swiping his tongue over Harry’s lower lip before slipping inside, while Harry continued to unbutton his top with fumbling fingers. He swirled his tongue in Harry’s mouth, picking up the hint of spicy cinnamon and sweet honey left from his last drink.

Harry finally pulled the last button through, and Draco took a deep breath as hands smoothed up his torso. As Harry pushed his top from his shoulders, Draco slipped his hands beneath Harry’s hem, dancing his fingers over toned abs. Harry whimpered softly his throat, wrapping his hands around Draco’s hips and pulling him closer, and Draco groaned. He could feel Harry’s growing erection against his thigh, his own quickly catching up, and he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Harry’s trousers in a teasing touch as wild notions flew through his mind.

Draco had absolutely zero qualms about bedding the Savior of the Wizarding world, had thought about it frequently, in fact, and wondered if the night had created the perfect catalyst for Harry to realize and act upon some deep-seated desires of his own, or if his actions were fueled entirely by alcohol. He decided to push his luck, leaning into Harry and pressing his thigh firmly against his groin.

Harry moaned, pulling himself free of Draco’s lips as he tilted his head backward. Draco grinned, watching Harry’s eyes flutter closed as he began to shift his hips, and bent to return his attention to the golden skin at Harry’s throat. He shifted his thigh as he closed his teeth softly, sucking a bruise into the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder, and Harry whined, grinding down onto Draco’s thigh. Draco took a shuddering breath, his erection brushing against Harry’s stomach with each thrust of his hips, and he pulled at the sides of Harry’s trousers, exposing the tops of his hipbones.

Harry groaned, releasing Draco’s waist and moving to unfasten his trousers while continuing to swivel on Draco’s thigh, and Draco took a sharp breath when he suddenly had far more range of motion beneath Harry’s waistband. He smoothed his hands over Harry’s hips, pushing the fabric down, and his fingers had only just brushed soft curls when the storeroom door slammed open.

October 20
Prompt: Exhibit
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny

“What the bloody fuck are you doing?” Ginny screeched, her eyes darting over them both.

Draco turned his head with an arched brow. His top hung from his arms, his torso completely bare otherwise, and his hands were literally inside Harry’s unfastened trousers while his thigh pressed insistently against Harry’s erection. Harry hadn’t even stopped riding him, his hips still swiveling as soft moans escaped his parted lips.

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Draco asked calmly.

Ginny stepped into the room, slamming the door behind her and startling Harry from his lust-fueled haze. He gasped, his body freezing even as his hips still jerked toward Draco, and his face fell into a guilty frown.

“Harry?” Ginny asked angrily, crossing her arms over her chest, “Explain!”

The realization that he’d been unhappy for longer than he’d even let himself consider crashed over him, and he glanced at Draco before returning his gaze to Ginny. They’d been together since the final battle, falling back into a relationship that no longer fit either of them, just for the sake of ease and comfort. He couldn’t be certain that she felt the same, her entire demeanor exhibiting the quintessential jealousy of a scorned lover, but he suddenly understood that not only could he not stay in the dynamic he’d held with her for so long out of mere familiarity, but his deeply buried desire had broken from the bars, and he was unwilling to stuff it back into the tiny cage he’d built around it.

“Gin,” Harry said, sliding his hands down Draco’s arms to stop him from pulling them free. Draco glanced at him, both brows raised, and pressed his thigh gently against Harry’s still throbbing erection. Harry’s eyes fluttered, and he blinked quickly as he refocused on Ginny. “I think we should break up.”

Ginny scoffed, “What’s he done to you?” she growled, pointing at Draco with a shaking finger.

“He hasn’t done anything,” Harry said, turning to focus on Draco’s face, “Except make me realize how unhappy I am in this relationship, if you can even still call it that.”

Ginny gasped, stepping closer with an outstretched hand. “You don’t mean that,” she said, her voice trembling with a combination of fear and rage. “You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying. We can work this out.”

“Don’t,” Harry said, pinning her with a determined glare. “You know as much as I do that we haven’t been in a proper relationship for a while. Best to end it now instead of dragging it out.” He turned slightly wide eyes to Draco. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some unfinished business.”

Draco lifted a brow, and Harry smirked, pushing himself away from the wall and turning them quickly. Draco sucked in a breath as Harry Apparated them away, his fingers tightening slightly as they landed. “You know, it’s not recommended to Apparate while impaired,” he drawled, squinting. “Where are we?”

October 23
Prompt: Dark
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry sighed, running his hands up Draco’s sides. “I’m feeling far more sober now.”

Draco squinted at him in the darkness, making out the barest hint of a smile. “You haven’t answered my question,” he whispered, tilting his head down to run his nose against Harry’s cheek. “Where are we?”

“My flat,” Harry said, turning his face to catch Draco’s lips.

Draco hummed, sliding his fingers over Harry’s hips and pushing his trousers and pants further downward.

Harry groaned as his prick bounced in the open air, sucking in a breath as Draco’s fingers wrapped around his shaft. He tilted his head, slipping his tongue between Draco’s lips as he directed him down the corridor with a hand on his bare chest. Draco stumbled backward, his full focus on Harry’s cock as he trusted Harry not to ram him into the wall.

Draco gasped when Harry pushed him backward, huffing when his back met the plush mattress behind him. “You should really warn a bloke,” he grumbled.

Harry laughed, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Harry waved his wand, and several candles flared to life, casting flickering shadows over his face. He licked his lips, taking his time to admire Draco’s mussed hair and wrinkled trousers before he stripped them both with a flick of his wrist.

Draco exhaled sharply, narrowing his eyes as Harry moved toward him. “You’ll pay for that, Potter.”

Harry grinned, “I can’t wait.”

Draco groaned as Harry straddled him, their cocks finally meeting without a barrier. “Lucky for you, neither can I.”

Draco reached for him, sliding his hand around the back of Harry’s neck and tugging him downward, and Harry chuckled as he complied. Their lips met again in a lazy dance, and Draco groaned as Harry shifted his hips. He wrapped his free hand around them both, catching Harry’s moan with his mouth, and Harry carded his fingers through Draco’s hair as Draco stroked them.

Draco rubbed his palm over their glans, smearing the precome and decreasing the rough friction, and Harry groaned, pressing their lips together forcefully before he pulled away. Draco took a deep breath, his fist continuing as he watched Harry rise up, and Harry spread a hand over Draco’s chest, bending toward the drawer on his right.

Harry grinned as he pulled back, a small bottle of lube in his hand, and Draco arched a brow. Harry bit his lip, the full force of what he was asking suddenly clear, and Draco released them, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Have you ever been with a bloke?”

Harry swallowed and shook his head, sliding back to sit on Draco's thighs. Draco took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, then he plucked the bottle from Harry's loose grip.

“Well, you're in for a treat.”

Don't worry, the story isn't over yet...

Chapter Text

October 8
Prompt: Caramel
Characters/ships: Draco

Draco leaned against his bedroom door with a sigh, his head falling against the wood with a dull thud. He was happy to be home for another summer, pleased to have his own space again and glad to spend time with his family, but time away from the castle also meant time away from the object of his obsession. It was a secret, of course; he couldn’t risk his feelings getting out, or anyone holding the information over his head, so he suffered the only way he knew how: smothered in cruelty and dripping with sarcasm.

He’d set the status quo long ago, when he childishly believed that the pain he felt over denied friendship was caused solely by embarrassment, and he couldn’t turn the tide of their interactions now, not after years of animosity. He wrapped his cutting wit around him like a security blanket, eyes narrowed and sneer firmly in place, when, in reality, he desperately wanted to run his tongue over caramel skin, to see if Potter tasted as good as he looked.

He may not have had the ability to act on his feelings, nor did he particularly wish to learn that Potter hated him as much as he seemed to, but he at least had something to carry him over until he boarded the Hogwarts Express again. He grinned as he moved toward his bed, slipping his hand into his pocket to fish out what had already become the jewel of his collection. He’d gone through several secretive measures to procure it, and though he knew he could likely easily get more, he refused to put himself in a position to be found out, and thus, this palm-sized photo would be his only one.

Draco knelt on the floor, reaching under his bed to retrieve a large, dragonhide-bound book before sliding onto the mattress. He carefully flipped the pages, pausing on his favorite Prophet articles and Quibbler photos before reaching a blank page. He was particularly fond of the photo that ran at the beginning of Fifth year, depicting a clearly irate Potter as he tried to convince the world that Voldemort had returned. The fire that burned in his eyes and the passionate flush to his cheeks were the most alluring, and Draco often stared at it for minutes at a time.

He decided to give this newest addition its own page, hopeful that he might somehow possess similar ones in the future, and flicked his wand against the parchment, casting a sticking charm. He pressed the photo into the center of the page, delicately smoothing his fingers over the edges as a soft grin lit his face. It was perfect; Potter had clearly just left the showers, a towel wrapped low over his hips and his bare chest still glistening. His hair was as flat as Draco had ever seen it, and his eyes were wide with surprise. Creevey had caught him completely unaware, and Draco watched as the photo fumbled to slip his glasses on and direct a glare at the photographer before the action restarted.

He ran his fingertip over the muscular chest, sliding along the top edge of the towel as he envisioned what was hidden beneath. He bit his lip at the interested twitch in his trousers and took a deep breath. There was one thing that made being apart from Potter for months at a time bearable, aside from his ever-growing collection of photos: the ability to take as long of a shower as he desired and do whatever he liked while under the warm spray. He took one last, long look at the photo, burning the image into his mind, then slid from his bed to take a very long shower.

Chapter Text

October 9
Prompt: Masks
Characters/ships: Harry/[Redacted]

He’d caught Harry’s eye the moment he floated through the door, his pressed robes draped elegantly over his lithe body and his honey blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid, and by the direction his gaze took when Harry was near, he was certain he’d garnered the same attention. They circled each other, trading glances across the crowded dance floor, slowly edging closer as the evening wore on.

Harry almost hadn’t come; he’d been to enough galas, gatherings, and parties to last a lifetime, but the idea of a masked ball was intriguing. The longer he considered, the more he desired to know what it felt like to attend as an unknown, without pawing hands and begging faces. He hated the attention he still received, and he’d begun to slink into the shadows as a result. This was his opportunity to finally relax and get a taste of how everyone else experienced the world.

Most of the partygoers opted for masquerade masks, carried in hand and easily removed, but Harry took every step to ensure his identity remained hidden. His mask was secured tightly around his silver hair, glamoured along with his blue irises, and it covered not only his upper face and forehead but dipped over his nose and down his cheeks as well. He’d picked robes to match, black with a flash of emerald in the light, and he’d expected to have a decent time and go home. He’d never expected to find his eyes drawn to a handsome stranger for the majority of the evening.

As he stood near the center of the dance floor, speaking with a few unmasked friends as others twirled and spun around them, he couldn’t help but watch the stranger as he passed. Several feet and a few bodies separated them, but he could feel the heat in his gaze as if burning along his skin. He’d spent hours building up his nerve, downing a few fortifying firewhiskeys, and as the blonde moved toward the far end of the ballroom, he knew he had to move quickly.

Harry excused himself, keeping his gaze on the blonde braid as he weaved through the guests, and he took a deep breath as the stranger turned toward the stairs, temporarily disappearing from view. He followed, gasping and skidding to a stop just before running bodily into the other man, and his throat grew dry as the stranger towered over him. He looked up, gaze flitting between the ornate golden mask and almond-hued eyes before sliding over sharp cheekbones and sculpted jaw.

“Are you enjoying the party?” the stranger asked, his lilt oddly familiar.

Harry swallowed, tracing the shape of plush lips as they quirked upward. He hadn’t considered that he’d need to have an actual conversation with the bloke, his fortitude ending abruptly at the ‘approach’ stage of his plan, and he stood silently as the stranger scrutinized him.

October 18
Prompt: Step
Characters/ships: Harry/[Redacted]

Harry shivered as the stranger’s gaze ran over him, intense and prodding, and his automatic reaction as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth produced a sharp inhale from above.

“What’s your name?” the stranger questioned, undeterred that Harry had yet to speak.

Harry’s lip slipped from his teeth, and he glanced down before lifting his chin. “Isn’t the point of a masked ball anonymity?”

The stranger’s lips spread into a sultry grin, and he tilted his head. “Usually, but how else am I to find you after tonight?”

Harry took a soft breath through slightly parted lips, nibbling the lower one as he considered the consequences of responding. There was clearly a mutual attraction, but he was concerned their dynamic would shift as soon as he revealed his identity. Would it be better to ignore the magnetic pull between them, just so he could avoid the inevitable heartbreak? His gaze dropped to plush lips, and he let himself imagine what it would be like, to be unknown to the world.

The stranger tipped his chin down, and Harry’s eyes darted upward. They maintained a heated stare as he slowly leaned forward, and Harry gasped as a cool hand caressed the back of his neck. Soft fingers slid over his jaw as the blonde dipped his head, and Harry’s eyes fell shut as a palm gently directed his face upward.

Their masks clacked together just before the feather-light touch of lips, and Harry jolted. He sucked in a breath as the stranger pulled back uncertainly and rose onto his toes to recapture him, steadying himself with one hand on a firm chest. The stranger groaned softly as Harry’s palm slid over him, gently curling the fingers of his other hand over Harry’s hip as he thumbed over Harry’s jaw.

The kiss was fleeting, a sweet end to a mysterious night, and Harry began to reconsider a grand reveal as he sank back down onto his heels. His stomach fluttered as the bloke stepped backward, his fingers trailing gently over Harry’s cheek, and he swallowed heavily. He was on the precipice of giving in, his lips parted and his name on his tongue, when the blonde spun toward the stairs, hips swaying.

Pausing on the first step, the stranger turned to glance over his shoulder. “I suppose I’ll need to snog every alluring bloke I run across then, until I find you,” he said with a smirk.

A thrill shot through Harry as, all at once, he knew who the person behind the gilded mask was. His mouth ran dry, shock coursing through him as he watched Draco Malfoy slowly ascend, disappearing through the grand archway without a backward glance.

October 22
Prompt: Fantasy
Characters/ships: Harry

Harry lay sprawled on his bed, mask in hand and dress robes bunched beneath him as he stared at the ceiling. He ran the pad of his thumb over his lips, closing his eyes to recall the warm breath that ghosted over them before Malfoy reduced the distance between them. A thrill ran up his spine as he replayed the moment: the barely-there brush before he forged ahead, catching Malfoy’s lips as he rose onto his toes.

He took a deep breath as feelings he’d never have associated with Malfoy flooded him. He’d never noticed the towering stature, the inviting pout, or the soothing timbre of Malfoy’s voice, but now that he had, he could never go back. Thoughts circled in his mind, wondering if Malfoy knew it was Harry all along, what his reaction would be when he found out, and if it was even possible to pursue something with him.

He pictured what that might look like: strolling down Diagon Alley hand in hand with his once mortal enemy while patrons and shopkeepers whispered behind their backs. Sharing a fancy meal at some upscale restaurant while the staff bickered over whether to kick them out due to Malfoy’s history or continue serving them because of Harry’s. What would his friends think? What would Harry’s?

Harry sighed, rolling to settle his mask onto his bedside table. It wouldn’t work. It couldn’t. For all the passion in their past and attraction in their present, they had too much history together, and their lives were too different. He didn’t care what the public thought of him, but the idea that Malfoy, or whomever he dated, would be torn down by the likes of The Prophet on a daily basis and face scorn and hate each time he stepped out alone, was enough to ignore his sudden feelings and move about his life as he always had.

For now.

Don't worry, this story isn't over yet...

Chapter Text

October 12
Prompt: Melt
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry absently took a sip of his pumpkin juice as he watched Draco stride through the Great Hall doors. His cheeks flushed as he took in the way Draco’s robes perfectly draped his lean body, the slight up-tilt to his chin, the mischievous glint in his eye. As if feeling his attention, Draco turned, and Harry smiled nervously, spilling pumpkin juice down his front.

Draco snorted and turned toward the Slytherin table, while Harry tried his damnedest to disappear, his face aflame with embarrassment.

Two days later, Draco casually asked Harry if he and Blaise could have the leftover wormwood that Harry had been moving to put away, passing directly by their worktable, and Harry stumbled to a stop. He turned, eyes wide, and swallowed harshly as his gaze dropped to Draco’s lips. Draco smirked, extending his hand, and Harry passed him the vial with an unsteady hand.

Harry gasped softly as their fingers brushed, his grip immediately slackened, and the vial would have fallen to the floor, had Draco not already formed a strong grip around it. Draco arched a brow, and Harry flushed, turning to scamper back to his Potions partner. Draco turned in amusement, watching as he slid onto the bench, and when Harry finally lifted his gaze, Draco’s intense eyes were there to meet him.

Harry nibbled his lip, watching Draco and Pansy laugh together as they sat a few tables away. He was in the library, ostensibly to study for his O.W.L.s, but he couldn’t stop his attention from being pulled across the room. How could Pansy be so effortless? Did she not think Draco was the most attractive bloke she’d ever seen? He sighed, glancing down at his open Charms book before turning to his left.

“’Mione, how do you flirt with someone?”

Hermione lifted startled eyes. “Me, personally?”

Harry shook his head. “No, just, you know, in general.”

“You should be studying, Harry, not worrying about how to flirt properly,” she frowned.

Harry huffed, turning back to his book.

“I saw a Muggle wet tee-shirt contest over the summer,” Seamus began, leaning across the table, “You could try that.”

Harry furrowed his brow. “Join a contest?”

“No,” Seamus rolled his eyes, “Dowse yourself in water.” He winked, “Definitely worked with all the bints.”

Harry shifted his eyes to the side. “Yeah, maybe.”

After a week of awkward flirting attempts, where it seemed Draco either didn’t notice or laughed at his expense, Harry decided that perhaps Seamus had a point. He had no other ideas (he couldn’t just talk to Draco like a normal human, obviously), so that Saturday afternoon found him searching his wardrobe for a clean, white top. He sorted through all of the hangers and drawers, and even picked through his trunk, but it seemed all of them were either stained or dirty.

He sighed, looking around the room as he tried to come up with any other options, when his gaze snagged on a pristine white triangle peeking from between Ron’s wardrobe. He crossed the room quickly, yanking open the doors, and grinned as he found exactly what he’d been looking for. He knew Ron wouldn’t mind if he borrowed it, as long as he didn’t know he was planning to use it to seduce Draco Malfoy.

After changing, Harry ran down the stairs and through the common room, barely pausing to say hello to anyone. He was on a mission, and he was afraid if he dawdled too long, he’d lose his nerve. He descended the many flights of stairs at a rapid pace, but once he’d reached the Welcome Hall, he paused. He wasn’t sure exactly where Draco was, and he hadn’t thought to bring the map along.

A warm breeze stirred his fringe, and he glanced through the open castle doors. It was a perfect spring day, not a cloud in the sky, and he nodded to himself before turning in that direction. He found Draco far more easily than he thought he would, and a thrill of nervous excitement shot through him as he approached the small gathering near the edge of the Black Lake.

He paused several feet away, glancing up to ensure Draco had a direct line of sight, then took a deep breath and dropped to his knees. He cast a powerful Augmenti, directing the stream over his head and chest as he tilted his chin toward the sky. The sudden chill of cool water sent a shiver over his skin, producing goosepimples down his neck and arms. He could feel rivulets flowing behind his ears, dripping onto his collarbone, and sliding down his chest, but his top felt oddly dry.

After several minutes, which felt like an hour, he canceled the spell and looked down. His brow furrowed as he studied the bone-dry material, clearly confused, then looked up as a tittering reached his ears.

Draco stood in the center of cackling Slytherins, eyebrow raised and head tilted. His gaze slid down Harry’s body, pausing at his damp collarbone before continuing to his knees. Harry swallowed as he met Draco’s returned gaze, his cheeks heating as Draco’s companions continued to laugh, and Draco watched silently as he scrambled to stand.

Harry returned to the castle as fast as he could without outright running, dizzy with embarrassment as he moved toward the stairs. He intended to hide in Gryffindor Tower for the rest of eternity and was so distracted that he nearly ran bodily into Hermione.

“Harry!” Hermione gasped, eyes bouncing around his partially soaked form. “What happened?”

Harry huffed and hung his head. “I listened to Seamus.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked with a frown. “Did he tell you to-, Oh!” she gasped, studying him more closely, “You mean you tried the wet tee-shirt idea?”

He nodded, his hair still dripping. “I don’t know how, but I managed to get everything wet but my top.” He plucked at the material, “Well, Ron’s top.”

“Oh no,” Hermione said, covering her mouth. “That’s Ron’s?”

Harry frowned and looked up. “Yeah, why?”

She huffed, “I cast a permanent repelling charm on all of his clothing, because I was sick of him asking for help getting out stains.”

Harry blinked at her, then burst out laughing. “Of course you did.” He turned toward the nearest wall, lightly tapping his forehead against the stone. “I just wanted to do something daring to get his attention. Why am I so bad at flirting?”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Draco asked from behind him. Harry gasped, turning slowly, and Hermione took a few steps backward as she shifted her gaze between them. Draco crowded Harry against the wall with an arched brow. “Flirting?”

Harry swallowed, his lips parting as he looked up at Draco. He took an audible breath, his eyelids fluttering as the blush that had only just begun to dissipate returned in full force.

Draco smirked, placing a palm on the stone near Harry’s head and sliding the other over Harry’s hip. “I can give you lessons, if you like,” he murmured, leaning forward. Harry whimpered quietly, tugging on the hem of his top, and Draco chuckled as he tilted his head. “Though I quite enjoy how adorable you’ve been the last few weeks,” he breathed into Harry’s ear.

Harry gasped, turning his head slightly. “Really?”

Draco’s gaze dropped to Harry’s mouth, and he licked his lips before closing the distance between them. “Really.”

Harry made a noise in his throat as their lips met, and Draco pulled him closer by the hip, his other hand sliding behind Harry’s head. Harry melted into him, finally releasing his top to gather fistfuls of Draco’s instead.

Neither of them cared when Draco’s mates found them minutes later, nor that anyone else might stumble upon them, both too caught up in finally having what they’d both wanted for longer than they’d ever admit.

Chapter Text

October 13
Prompt: Marked
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

When they first began seeing each other, less than a year after the war, Draco kept his arms hidden completely. He was still the recipient of more hate than Harry thought he deserved, and what began as a tentative friendship blossomed into something far greater. Harry never commented on the long sleeves Draco wore, even in the sweltering heat, but as they slowly got to know each other, his curiosity only increased.

One warm Autumn day, Harry decided to broach the subject. They’d worked through their pasts, had had a few deep conversations, had been on a few real dates, and even the general hatred of the public had died down quite a bit since they’d been seen out together. Harry thought they were in a solid enough place to bring it up, but Draco had immediately gotten defensive. He attempted to storm off, but Harry caught him by the arm, and Draco froze with a sharp breath. They both looked down, realizing that Harry’s hand was wrapped around the exact center of where Draco’s Dark Mark lay hidden.

Harry looked up, his gaze sliding between Draco’s wide eyes, and Draco swallowed harshly. Harry tugged him closer, and Draco’s arm tensed beneath his fingers. Their gazes remained locked as Harry slowly unbuttoned Draco’s cuff, and Draco whimpered softly as Harry began to push his sleeve upward. He released Draco’s arm, offering the chance to escape, and Draco glanced down as his pale wrist was revealed. His lips parted as Harry continued to push the material slowly upward, the edge of the mark peeking out beneath his deep blue button-up.

Draco took a deep breath, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut, while Harry stared intently as the mark was uncovered. He’d never seen one up close, not while he wasn’t also dodging hexes, and he lifted Draco’s arm closer as his eyes traced the curling snake. It was oddly beautiful, in a Gothic, subjugation kind of way, and he blew out a breath as he studied the last remaining legacy of Voldemort’s reign.

Harry ran a tentative finger over the deep lines of the skull, and Draco’s eyes snapped open. “Does it hurt?” he asked, lifting his gaze briefly to Draco’s face.

Draco shivered, a thrill shooting up his spine as Harry continued to trace the mark. “No,” he whispered.

October 17
Prompt: Taste
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco

Harry slowly swept his thumb over the inky lines of the Dark Mark, scrutinizing Draco’s face for any hint of discomfort. He could see the rapid heartbeat in the side of his neck, the slight dilation of his pupils, and the way his fingers trembled as Harry moved toward his elbow. He took a deep breath, swallowing nervously, then tipped his chin.

Their gaze remained locked as Harry bent his head, and Draco’s lips parted in a surprised gasp as he realized what Harry intended. Harry paused, lips a millimeter away from Draco’s skin, and Draco shivered as his warm breath washed over him. Draco licked his lips, gaze riveted on the minute space between Harry’s pillowy lips and his permanent brand, and Harry sighed as he closed the gap.

Draco’s arm spasmed as Harry’s lips brushed over his wrist, a sharp exhale escaping from above, but he didn’t pull back, and Harry continued to kiss his way up the twisted remnant of a darker time. Draco relaxed as he moved up his forearm, stepping slightly closer, and Harry flicked his gaze up as he reached the crook of his elbow. Draco stared back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, his mouth soft and lips parted, and a line of heat slid down Harry’s spine to coil in his abdomen.

The first swipe of his tongue pulled a sharp gasp from Draco’s lips, and he shuffled closer still as Harry traced the lines of the mark. Draco’s skin always tasted like summer; warm, with a hint of sweet honey, but as his tongue glided over the Mark, Harry thought he could discern another. It was slightly bitter, somewhat acrid, but Draco’s natural flavor still shown through, and Harry smiled to himself at the thought that Draco had never truly been broken.

Chapter Text

October 14
Prompt: Cut
Characters/ships: Harry & Ron

Harry laughed to himself as he stood on the stage with only two other blokes. He and Ron had joined Blind Date, a newly developed dating show targeting single Wizards who were having trouble starting a relationship for various reasons, on a whim. Neither had expected to be chosen, though, given their celebrity status, they really should have, and Harry especially hadn’t expected to make it to the final round.

Dating had proven far too much trouble for Harry; he’d floundered for a bit after he and Ginny broke up, struggling to come to terms with his sexuality, and when he finally decided to dip his toe into the dating pool, all number of fame chasers, starry-eyed bints, and nefarious ne’er-do-wells lined up to take advantage. He’d attempted to navigate the cesspool, but he’d all but given up before Ron convinced him to audition for the show.

He took a deep breath as he looked out at the live audience. Ron gave him an encouraging thumbs up from the front row, where he sat with the other contestants who had already been eliminated. All of them were anxious to learn who they’d been competing for, and Harry wondered if the mystery bachelor would decide to cut him immediately, once his identity was revealed.

Only the viewers and audience, save for the recently dismissed contestants, knew who all of the players were, so Ron’s gobsmacked reaction as the bachelor walked onto the stage, still out of view for Harry and his remaining competitors, was pure honesty. Harry swallowed nervously as he watched Ron’s eyes dart back and forth, his head shaking minutely; who could possibly be behind the curtain?

October 19
Prompt: Shine
Characters/ships: Harry & Ron, Harry/Draco (Pre-slash)

Harry gasped as the curtain lifted, revealing none other than Draco Malfoy as the bloke he’d been vying for. His mouth hung open, likely quite unattractive, as he realized that the silky voice and sharp wit he’d begun to fall for belonged to someone he’d been sworn enemies with for years, and most recently had been completely separated from.

He blinked rapidly, his gaze sliding over the polished boots and pressed trousers, the crisp button-up and fitted vest, the cinched waist and flexing hands. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took in the slightly parted lips, the regal nose, and the intelligent eyes. He swallowed heavily as Draco turned his head, the bright lights from the set bouncing off his platinum locks. His breathing increased as he realized just how alluring Draco had turned out to be, the show host’s words nothing but a buzzing in his ears.

Draco turned back toward the three remaining contestants, and Harry sucked in a breath as Draco’s eyes locked on his. He jolted as a sharp elbow jabbed him in the side, breaking their stare to turn confused eyes to his left. The brunette standing beside him lifted his brows, flicking his eyes toward the host, and Harry shook his head and turned toward the front of the stage.

“Mr. Potter,” the host said with a strained smile, “What is your response?”

“Erm,” Harry said, shifting his gaze toward Ron.

Ron stared at him with wide eyes, then moved his hands in a circle in front of his face. He pointed his index fingers at his lips, lifting them upward as he smiled comically wide, then nodded with lifted brows. Harry frowned, his forehead creased with confusion, and the host cleared her throat.

“We need a response, if you please.”

Harry swallowed, glancing again at the host before sliding his gaze back to Draco. “Erm, jack-o'-lantern?”

Ron slapped his palm over his forehead, shaking his head slowly from side to side.

Draco arched a brow, his lips quirking subtly upward as the live audience chuckled.

“What an interesting answer,” the host said, laughter clear in her voice. “Alright, Mr. Malfoy, which of these bachelors do you choose?”

October 26
Prompt: Pumpkin
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco, Harry & Ron

Harry swallowed as he waited for Draco’s response. He hadn’t thought much of winning the game show, nor had he truly considered what it might mean if he did, but as the seconds stretched, he realized that what he wanted, more than anything, was a second chance at a relationship with Draco Malfoy.

Draco chuckled, turning a charming grin on the host. “Well, I think the answer is obvious, don’t you?” He slid his gaze over the audience before turning toward the contestants. Harry held his breath as Draco’s eyes paused on his face. “I simply must find out what Mr. Potter has in mind.”

Harry’s lips parted in a silent gasp as the studio filled with applause, Draco’s twinkling gaze focused on him a minute more before he turned back to the host.

“Well, there you have it,” the host said, turning toward the camera, “Mr. Potter is the last bloke standing! We can’t wait to learn what they do next. Stay tuned next week, where we accompany the love birds on their first date!”

Harry stared, watching Draco and the host chat for a moment until the director yelled, “Cut!”, then Draco was led offstage. Harry’s eyes followed until he disappeared around a curtain, and he was shaken from his jumbled thoughts by Ron’s voice.

“Jack-o’-lantern?” Ron chuckled, approaching Harry’s side. “Really, Harry? Jack-o’-lantern?”

Harry smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his palm. “What the hell were you miming, then, if not a Jack-o’-lantern?”

Ron huffed, but before he could respond, Harry was pulled way to the other side of the studio.

“Nice choice,” the stagehand whispered as he led Harry back to his dressing room, “Coming up with such a nonsensical answer like that. It’s definitely going to bring viewers back in for the finale.”

“Erm, could you maybe tell me what the question was?”

The stagehand chuckled, clapping him on the back. “You’re really funny! See you tomorrow for the last show!”

Harry furrowed his brow as he slipped into his dressing room. He had no idea what he was meant to do with a damn Jack-o’-lantern!

Harry paced his room the next day, tugging on his collar as visions of humiliation in front of a broad audience flashed through his mind. He still hadn’t discovered what the question he’d answered so randomly was, and he was only hours away from his first televised date with Draco.

“Knock, knock!” the game show host called, rapping on his slightly ajar door before pushing it open. “Ready for hair and makeup?”

Harry swallowed and nodded, his face pale. He followed the host down the corridor, his feet like lead. Perhaps, if he embarrassed himself enough, he could slink out of the public eye without issue and live on a remote island all by himself.

“You really threw us for a loop yesterday,” the host said cheerfully, pushing Harry into the chair by his shoulders, “But I think we’ve got it all worked out. Good thing you don’t have to plan the date yourself, right?”

Harry gasped, “I don’t?”

The show host frowned. “Of course not.”

“Hello, Harry,” Draco purred as he stepped onto the stage.

Harry’s jaw popped open, his eyes wide as he blinked at Draco. “What?”

Draco tilted his head. “It’s only right that we call each other by our first names, no? We’re going on a date, for Merlin’s sake.” Harry licked his lips nervously, and Draco’s eyes dropped momentarily to his mouth. “Go on. Try it.”

Harry took a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for a moment before exhaling loudly. “Hello. Draco.”

Draco’s spine straightened minutely, his eyelashes fluttering as his name slipped from Harry’s lips. “There, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Harry’s gaze darted over him as he wondered if Draco had actually begun to fall for him too, or if he was simply playing to the camera. Filming began shortly after, and they were separated to opposite sides of the set so as to make a grand entrance. The live audience shuffled in as they waited in the wings, the former contestants again seated in the front row. Ron tried to catch Harry’s eye as they entered, miming more hints in his direction, but Harry chose to instead focus on what the host was saying, ignoring Ron’s flailing hands.

After a short Q&A, where the host asked each of them increasingly intimate questions about their time on the show and how their feelings had evolved over time, they were ushered outside with a small camera crew. Harry gasped as they were led toward a fluffy blanket, spread beneath the wide-reaching branches of an oak, with a large wicker basket, a bottle of wine shoved into an ice bucket, and two goblets awaiting them.

Harry glanced at Draco, who smiled softly as he took in the display, then cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

Draco nodded, striding toward the blanket, and Harry hastily followed. They settled onto the blanket, Draco leaning back on his hands while Harry pulled their meal from the basket, eyebrows lifting as he reached the last dish.

“Is this what you meant by ‘Jack-o’-lantern’?” Draco asked with a chuckle, eyeing the pumpkin pie in Harry’s hands.

Harry huffed a laugh, placing the dish onto the blanket, then leaned closer to Draco. “Honestly, I have no idea what the question was. I was too busy staring at you to hear it.”

Draco flicked shocked eyes to Harry’s face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Really?”

Harry nodded, a blush overtaking his cheeks as he busied himself by reaching for the wine and pouring them each a glass.

Draco snorted a laugh. “Where did that answer come from, then?”

Harry shrugged. “Ron.”

Draco pulled his eyebrows together. “Weasley was in the audience?”

“He was one of the contestants.”

Draco’s jaw dropped. “No fucking way.”

A surprised laugh burst from Harry’s lips. “Yeah, he made it to the final round of cuts before the reveal.”

“Oh my gods,” Draco whispered, covering his face with his hands, “I almost dated a Weasley?”

Harry laughed, reaching out to pat Draco on the knee, and Draco looked up. “He probably would have come up with a better answer to whatever the question was.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Potter, she asked ‘If you were to take Mr. Malfoy on a date, how would you describe it?’”

Harry barked a laugh. “Wow, really? And you still picked me after I said Jack-o’-lantern?”

Draco shrugged. “The other two answers were boring.” His gaze dipped to Harry’s collar. “Plus, you’re far more fit than them.”

Harry gasped, looking away with a blush. “Thirsty?” he asked, picking up a goblet and holding it out to him.

“Parched,” Draco said with a grin.

“Alright, you two, you’ve had your first date! Was it everything you’d hoped it would be, Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco grinned, glancing at Harry from the corner of his eye. “Yes, it was very...Autumn inspired.”

Harry twisted his lips to the side as the audience and host chuckled.

“Mr. Potter, now that we’ve seen the lovely picnic you planned, would you care to explain what you meant by your cryptic answer from last episode?”

Harry took a deep breath, the cogs in his head turning faster than they ever had before. “Well, erm, so a Jack-o’-lantern is a staple of the season, like Draco said.” Draco shivered slightly as his name rolled off Harry’s tongue. “And it starts out as a pumpkin, a blank slate. You have to put thought and effort into it to turn it into a Jack-o’-lantern, and it can be any kind you want. Even if you mess up, it can turn into something great.” He glanced at Draco, then flicked his eyes across the studio audience.

“And the candle inside?” Draco asked, tilting his head.

Harry rolled his lips inward, his cheeks flushing lightly. “Everything is better with a little heat.”

The audience laughed, and he turned a cheeky grin toward Draco, who pursed his lips to try and hide his grin.

“What a poignant answer!” the host said, fanning herself with her hand. “Knowing what his thought process was, do you think the date lived up to his explanation, Mr. Malfoy? And would you go on a second?”

Draco smiled, sliding his hand down Harry’s forearm to thread their fingers together. “Absolutely,” he responded, glancing at Harry, “To both questions.”

Chapter Text

October 15
Prompt: Breathe
Characters/ships: Harry & Ron

“Mate, I’m telling you, try ASMR!” Ron huffed, eyeing the deep purple smudges under Harry’s eyes.

Harry sighed, “Fine! Any recommendations?”

Harry had always had trouble sleeping, but after the war, it had gotten exponentially worse. He’d existed on Dreamless sleep and Pepper-up potion for a solid six months before Madam Pomfrey had warned him that further usage would be detrimental to his health, and he’d been searching for any sort of replacement since. He’d tried Muggle remedies, such as sleeping pills and the like, but due to the magic running through his veins, all of them had proven ineffectual.

Ron had suggested something called ASMR right at the start of his search, but Harry had dismissed it straight away. He couldn’t understand how watching soap be cut up or hearing someone chew was supposed to be relaxing, but, after a nearly sleepless four months, he was now willing to try almost anything.

Ron’s favorite ASMR videos, which he happily shared with Harry in a playlist, were jarring; Harry didn’t like the idea of someone shoving things into his ears, and he found the tapping of nails on various objects too irritating. He began swiping through the recommended videos, his hope dwindling with each one he skipped, and had decided to stop searching and simply let the videos play while he tried to fall asleep.

Harry woke the next afternoon, startled that he’d managed to doze off at all and shocked at how late he’d managed to sleep. A soft rustling reached his ears, and he realized the videos had continued to play all night. He picked up his mobile phone, scrolling through the recently played to find all of them were from the same creator. The videos themselves were audio only, with a generic photo of an antique microphone, and most of them were named things like ‘Mic Scratching,’ ‘Fuzzy Cover,’ and ‘Unintelligible Whispers.’ He smiled, immediately adding them all to his own playlist, aptly named ‘Get Some Fucking Sleep.’

Ron excitedly asked Harry what he thought about his favorite ASMR artists the very next time they met, and he’d been vague about his specific impressions of them, but he’d agreed that the suggestion had done the trick, and he was now sleeping soundly most nights. Ron was thrilled, not only happy to have helped Harry finally find peace, but to have someone else to talk about ASMR with. Hermione listened to him, of course, but she didn’t understand the concept and grew bored very quickly. Having another person in his vicinity who actually watched ASMR videos was completely different, and Ron enthusiastically invited Harry to a nearby recording studio, where several of his favorite creators produced their videos.

Harry wasn’t exactly jumping with excitement, especially because he didn’t seem to enjoy the same type of content Ron did, but he was happy to see his best mate so exuberant about something, so he readily agreed.

“How did you even find this place?” Harry asked as they entered the tall building.

Ron grinned sheepishly. “I, erm, actually make ASMR videos myself.”

Harry paused in his tracks, desperately hoping Ron wasn’t the single creator he listened to. He’d begun to feel something more than just relaxation when he heard the faceless voice, the dulcet tones and soft whispers igniting something indescribable within him.

“Yeah, those slime videos I sent you?” Ron continued, turning to face him, “That’s me!”

Harry blew out a breath. “Oh, thank Merlin.”

“What?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing. That’s great, Ron, I’m glad you’ve found something you enjoy.”

“And you enjoy, too!” Ron said with a wink, turning to continue down the corridor.

“Erm, yeah, sure,” Harry responded, following slowly behind.

They passed several closed doors, neon lights that read ‘Recording’ alight over them, until Ron paused at a door near the end of the corridor. A sliver of the room was visible from the space where the door was left slightly open, and an extremely familiar sound floated to Harry’s ears. Harry gasped, the soft riffling and murmured words unmistakable, and his heart rate picked up as he realized that a single, slightly ajar door separated him from someone he’d started to fall for.

Ron huffed from his right, wrapping his hand around the door handle. “He should be done by now; it’s my studio time.”

Harry swallowed harshly as Ron pulled open the door and breezed into the room. Silver eyes were the first thing he saw through the large window, glancing up as Ron’s movement caught his gaze, and Harry gasped. He stood stock still in the doorway, watching Malfoy’s fingers caress the fluffy mic cover. His breath came in quick bursts as Malfoy’s lips brushed a second microphone, his heart rate spiking as they locked eyes, and Harry could feel his cheeks heating rapidly.

Malfoy finished recording a moment later, and as he removed his headphones and stood from the workstation, Harry spun on his heel and fled down the corridor. He’d only just come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to a disembodied voice, but to find out that it belonged to someone who had made his life a living hell for years was more than he could handle, and he quickly ducked into the first open door he came across.

October 24
Prompt: Scared
Characters/ships: Harry & Ron

“You look terrible.”

Harry frowned, giving Ron a weak glare. “Thanks.”

After abruptly learning that Malfoy was behind the calming voice and enticing riffles, Harry had stopped playing his videos. He couldn’t relax, picturing Malfoy’s lips brushing against a mic and his guarded eyes glancing up at him instead of staring at the back of his own eyelids. He’d tried to find a replacement, something similar but just different enough, but his thoughts always returned to Malfoy, and he’d given up altogether.

Now, he was back to sleepless nights and days filled with fatigue. Hermione had gently prodded, once it was clear he wasn’t getting any rest, and he’d given her a vague yet mostly satisfactory answer. Meanwhile, Ron had been peppering him with questions since he’d found Harry hiding in a broom cupboard down the corridor from his recording studio. Harry had tried to brush him off, but Ron continued, his questions slowly getting closer to the truth, and Harry finally came up with a plausible explanation for why he’d run away.

Had he told Ron that he was terrified to learn not only that he was attracted to a bloke, but to then discover it was Malfoy, of all people? Of course not. He’d made up some nonsense about trying to keep the peace, avoiding Malfoy so as not to cause a row, and while Ron had explained that they’d found a way to work around each other ever since he began recording his ASMR videos, and assured Harry that he could likely do the same, he accepted Harry’s flimsy excuses.

After wearing Harry down for weeks, combined with his severe lack of cognitive function due to sleep deprivation, Ron finally convinced him to return to the studio. Harry had demanded assurances that Malfoy wouldn’t be there, but his conviction had waned shortly after, and he tiredly tagged along. He breathed a sigh of relief when the studio was empty, and Harry dutifully settled onto the sofa while Ron continued into the recording booth.

Harry hadn’t watched any of Ron’s videos, as the vision and sounds of fingers pressing into a half solid, half liquid substance made his skin crawl, and he wasn’t thrilled to be in an adjacent room with it now. As dampened squelching reached his ears, he caved, and put on one of his favorite Malfoy videos.

Harry was awoken by violent shaking, pulled from the deepest sleep he’d ever had. He was groggy, groaning as he squinted up at Ron’s smiling face.

“Put you to sleep, did I?” Ron asked boastfully.

“Wh-what?” Harry asked, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes.

Harry’s mobile rested face down on his chest, and Ron tilted his head at the soft murmurs he could hear now that Harry had removed his palm. He furrowed his brow, grabbing the device while Harry was occupied, and Harry gasped as his mind finally caught up, reaching for it. Harry was too slow, Ron lifting the mobile just out of reach, and he arched a brow as he recognized the creator.

“Is this why you didn’t want to come?” Ron asked, tilting the mobile slightly, “You didn’t want to admit you liked Malfoy’s videos?”

Harry took a deep breath, rolling his lips inward as his mind worked. He knew Ron would never let it go if there was the barest hint that he’d left something out, and reasoned that he’d feel less guilty if he admitted his confusing feelings to at least one person. He exhaled loudly and sat up, holding a hand out for his mobile. “It’s more than that.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I think,” he began, pausing to worry at his lower lip, “I’m pretty sure I fancy Malfoy.”

There was a soft gasp from the corridor, and both of them turned toward the slightly ajar door. A thrill shot up Harry’s spine as he considered he might have just confessed to Malfoy himself, and he looked up at Ron with wide eyes.

Ron slowly turned back to him, dipping his chin in a nod. “That’s alright, mate,” he said, dropping Harry’s phone into his palm, “Malfoy’s not so bad, once you get to know him.”

Harry frowned, “Really?”

Ron shrugged, “I know, took me by surprise, too.” He turned around, crossing the room in a few steps, and reached for the door handle. “The real question now is, does Malfoy fancy you back?”

Harry held his breath as Ron swung the door open, but the corridor was empty. He sighed, his shoulders deflating as he stood from the sofa. “I guess that’s a question for another day.”

Ron chuckled and led them out of the studio, and Harry followed a step behind. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering if Malfoy had taken refuge in the same cupboard he had, and huffed a laugh. He may have accidentally admitted his feelings to the object of his affection, but at least he didn’t have to deal with a confrontation. And, he was finally going to get some fucking sleep.

Chapter Text

October 16
Prompt: Sense
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco (Pre-slash)

Harry had spent enough time around Remus to know what to expect. He knew that his senses would be heightened, that his emotions would run high near the full moon, and that he’d develop a taste for rare meat. He was afraid he’d turn, and he’d hidden away after the final battle, half concerned for the population and half self-conscious of his new scar, but both he and Bill were lucky enough not to have to endure the full transformation.

He still avoided the public as much as possible, refusing various invitations to memorials and ceremonies, and he’d almost declined the offer to return to Hogwarts as well, but Hermione had chastised him enough, and pressed the importance of finishing his education enough, that he’d reluctantly agreed. He’d anticipated the whispers and stares, the hesitancy of most of the students, and he’d convinced himself that it didn’t matter what anyone thought, though he did cover the scar down his neck and across his collarbone as much as he was able without magic.

What he didn’t expect was hearing the way Malfoy’s breath hitched each time they made eye contact. He didn’t plan for the scent of his skin as they passed in the corridors, or the rapid beating of Malfoy’s heart in his ears. He didn’t account for the way his body would react, when Malfoy’s cheeks flushed as he hastily looked away, or how his Adam’s apple bobbed with each nervous swallow.

Malfoy was all Harry could think about most days. He was unavoidable; his scent lingered in the air long after he’d left, and even when Harry made a conscious effort to keep his distance, he saw supple skin and flaxen hair every time he closed his eyes. He could feel himself slowly going mad. He was desperate to feel Malfoy under him, to hold his pulse between his teeth, and as the year wore on, his self-restraint slowly eroded.

October 25
Prompt: Moon
Characters/ships: Harry/Draco (Pre-slash)

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, what happened one December evening. The moon was full and bright in the sky, and Harry had locked himself in his room, as he usually did, but he found himself wandering the corridors of the castle during the early hours of the morning. He couldn’t sleep, the image of Malfoy with his pink cheeks and pulse hammering in his neck when they’d nearly collided that afternoon circling in his mind, and his skin itched with the need to burn off the excess tension.

He couldn’t venture into the Forest, too many negative memories for him there, so he prowled through the castle while everyone else slept.

The buzzing along his skin had finally begun to subside, and he’d turned to head back toward the Eighth-year tower when he suddenly smelled Malfoy all around him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he tried to fight his instincts. He lost, his feet moving before he’d even refocused on the corridor, and Malfoy gasped as Harry flung himself around the corner, backing up against the wall with wide eyes.

Harry followed, caging him in with his arms as he leaned forward. Malfoy swallowed heavily as their chests met, and Harry’s gaze dropped to his throat. He could see Malfoy’s fluttering pulse in the dim light of the corridor, and he dipped his head. Malfoy took a sharp breath as Harry’s nose slid up the side of his throat, his hands trembling at his sides, and as Harry’s teeth parted, he managed a single word.

“Wait.”

Harry paused, his nose pressed to heated skin, and he inhaled deeply before lifting his head.

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