55Chapter 18: ASTTWT 7: Joined Anew
And so the Tables Were Turned …, part seven: Joined Anew
That night, when Harry went upstairs to tuck James in and prepare himself for bed, he heard Draco's voice coming out of the nursery, and he stopped just outside the doorway, out of sight to the blonde. Listened to his lover as he spoke to the boy.
"Would you like me to read you a bedtime story?" Draco was asking James in an affectionate tone. "All right. I know a story that you will absolutely love, because it's a true story and it's a beautiful, happy story. Okay, do you want me to begin? Once upon a time, there was a wizard called Harry Potter. He was a lonely boy, because his parents had died when he was very little—oh, about your age, actually—and he had no friends. Since he had no parents, he had to live with his mother's sister and her family, and they didn't like Harry so they treated him really bad.
"For many years, Harry was an unhappy boy, but then one day a letter came for him. And this was a very special letter, you see, because it came with an owl through the chimney. Harry was really happy to receive this letter, because no-one had ever written to him before. But his Aunt and Uncle didn't like that Harry got mail, so they destroyed the letter and never let him read it."
Harry's heart skipped several beats and then began to pound like crazy when he heard Draco tell their son about his life with that mild, warm tone. There was so much love in his melodious voice, and it surprised Harry. This was not entirely his love for the boy, but also his love for Harry—and it was so great, so pure, so unconditional …
That was when he realised that Draco had been telling him the truth; he did hate him because he loved him so much. Before, when they had been in Snape's guestroom, he had doubted this because it all seemed so absurd bearing Draco's behaviour in mind, but now he understood that the blonde really did love him unconditionally.
"Then one day, when Harry and his friends were training in the secret room, a funny little creature called Dobby came to see him. Dobby was a house-elf, and he worked at the school as a cleaner, and he had a terrible message for Harry. The awful wicked witch Umbridge was coming to catch him! As fast as they could, all the kids ran out of the secret room to save themselves from the wicked witch, but Harry didn't get away; there was another boy waiting for him outside, and that boy stopped Harry from running to safety. Do you know who that boy was?"
"No!" James said, and you could really hear how excited he was by the story in his exhilarated voice.
"That was your Daddy, James."
The small boy gasped. "Dat was you, Daddy?!"
"Yes, that boy was your Daddy, but I was much younger then. I helped the wicked witch catch Harry, because I didn't know then that she was the wicked witch, and I didn't know how evil she was. It was almost as if she had me under her wicked spell and made me do things I didn't want to do. But after Daddy had helped the wicked witch, he found out that Harry had done something really good for all the kids in that secret room, because he had been teaching them how to handle evil witches like Umbridge. Do you know what Daddy did then?"
"No, what did you do, Daddy? What did you do?"
"I asked Harry if it was true that he was teaching all those kids, and at first he didn't want to answer—and you understand why, don't you, James? He thought I was still that bad boy who caught him for the wicked witch, but Daddy had changed. I wasn't a bad boy anymore—I wanted Harry to help me be a good boy. So I kept asking him about it until he answered me, and when he said it was true, I thought that was really brave of him. I asked him to teach me, too, and even though his friends didn't like me, he agreed to teach me.
"Your father taught me everything I know, James. And he was the best teacher in the world, because he taught me every night even though he was very tired. It was our little secret. And as time went by, we became really good friends, Harry and I, and after some time, we fell in love. We promised each other to always be together, and we love each other more than people can normally love each other.
"And do you know why this is a happy story? Because we still love each other so much—we love each other a little more every day—and we're still together. And this is a happy, true story because our love resulted in you, James. You were born because Harry and I love each other so much, and your baby brother will also be born because we love each other so much."
"Wow, Daddy! Do you and Dada love each oder just as much as you love me?"
"Yes, Jimmy, just as much as we love you. Now sleep tight, honey. Call if you want anything, okay?"
Harry wished he could sneak off into their bedroom before Draco exited the nursery and found him standing there, because he was embarrassed about the tears that slowly fell from his eyes, but he was paralysed by the beauty of Draco's story. He had told James their story—and he had made it so beautiful.
When Draco exited the room and saw Harry standing there, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him warily.
Still crying silently, Harry smiled with gratitude. Thank you for the story, Draco.
And right before Draco turned off the light in James's room and walked down the hall to the guestroom in the south wing, he smiled back.
"Where are you going?"
He stops just inside the archway and feels something twist in his stomach. It is the first time he has ever felt this way … and it is a strange feeling, indeed. He is rebelling, and he is reluctant to stay when she calls him; he needs to break free. For the first time in the two years he has been in her service, in her control, he feels an urgency to break free of her power and walk his own way. Yet, he cannot disobey her and ignore such a direct inquiry.
"I am going to stay in 2006 for a few days and help them through their crisis," he conveys, and a shiver travels down his spine, because he knows that this kind of behaviour pisses her off.
He can sense her quiet rage.
"Really?" she says. "I need you for other business today."
"I will return in a mere minute in your time," he promises, "I will not waste any of your time, my mistress. I will simply spend three days or so in their time and help them through a difficult time. Surely you can't refuse me that?"
He is being bold, very bold. This is a dangerous business.
"NO!" Her cry shatters his fragile confidence. "You will do as I say, servant!"
The ring around his neck begins to burn and shoot electric currents through his body. Screaming in pain, he falls to the floor, his hands clasped around the ring, and he desperately tries to claw it off. Pain … pain … why is she putting him through pain?
Gasping for breath, he says, "I am sorry, my mistress … I am sorry … I will not disobey again …"
She releases him from her power and the pain goes away.
His neck is aching, as is the rest of his body.
She reveals her eyes to him to show him exactly how disappointed she is, and he burns with shame. "I guess my spell wasn't powerful enough," she says, and directs her wand at him. "Skuterius!"
His eyes glaze over anew.
Draco deliberately went down to breakfast really late to avoid running into Harry in the kitchen or the dining room. Unfortunately, that strategy did not work; Harry was still sitting at the dining room table absent-mindedly stirring in a cup of strongly smelling coffee. For a moment, Draco stood in the doorway, wondering if he should go back upstairs and wait another half-hour, but then he decided it was best to face the music and went over to his usual seat. But he did not sit down. Not yet. He watched Harry for a few seconds, then he said, "You shouldn't drink that."
Harry looked up. "Hmm?"
"You shouldn't drink that," Draco repeated. "Caffeine's not good for the baby."
Harry looked down at his cup with a sheepish expression. "Oh. Right. I didn't drink it, I just …"
His voice trailed off. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up in his chair and met Draco's gaze. There was fear in his grey eyes, but there was also a stubborn determination. Probably trying on a smile but instead managing to screw his face into a really freaky grimace, Harry said, "Hello, my name is Harry Potter and I'm a self-destructive self-hater with personality problems."
Draco just stared at him.
Harry leaned back in his chair. "Come on, this is where you say, 'Hello, Harry,' and nod solemnly as if you understand perfectly well what I'm talking about."
Draco swallowed hard to prevent his blossoming anger from taking over his tongue. "The sarcasm isn't really helping your case, Harry," he warned in a low voice.
"Oh, but I'm not being sarcastic—I'm being totally honest with you for once," Harry protested in a conversational tone of voice.
Draco frowned. "What do you mean? You mean to tell me you've never been honest with me?"
A bitter, ironic chuckle escaped Harry. "In a way, yeah. I haven't even been honest with myself for the past eight or nine years, so how could I have fessed up and been honest with you about this? Just last night I realised that this goes beyond anything I can think of, and I did the only right thing."
He fixed his eyes on Draco's, and this time he was a little bit more successful with his attempt at smiling. "I just got out of the fire after a long conversation with Dr. Millard Windpipe at St. Mungo's, that's why I'm a bit contemplative right now …"
Draco nervously shifted his feet. "Erm, so …? Look, I just dropped James off at the day care centre, and I'm hungry—"
"Good, 'cos I need to talk to you about something."
Draco instantly forgot about all his hostility and hurried to take a seat at the table. He eagerly leaned closer to Harry, curious to hear what he might want to discuss. "Yeah? Let's hear it, then!"
Once again, Harry took a deep breath for comfort. "This isn't easy for me …," he said.
Draco noticed that he was shaking. Listening to his heart and not giving a fuck about his brain, he reached out his arm and took Harry's hand in his. Harry seemed puzzled over his initiative, but he smiled with appreciation and gratitude at the small gesture. "It's all right," Draco said, "you can tell me, I won't judge you."
"I know you won't, but I will. You see … I lay awake all night thinking this through, and early this morning I made my decision. Your help won't be enough; this has already gone too far, so I paid a visit to a professional." He fell silent. A solitary tear glimmered in his eye.
Draco tightened his grip on his lover's hand. "Harry, do you mean to tell me that this doctor—"
"Yes, he's a psychiatrist. I told him about my problems, and we decided that I should come see him thrice a week for some time … It could take anything from three months to three years, really. At least, that's what he said."
They were both silent for a long while.
"So … you're in therapy, then?"
"Mm, yeah. Ironic, isn't it?"
Suddenly something hit him. "Wait a minute … you're in my body! Don't tell me you've got into this doctor bloke's head that I'm the one in need of therapy!?"
"No, of course not. I explained all that to him, too. At first I wanted to use some of Piper's Polyjuice Potion—do you know she's got like a thousand forbidden potions stored up in gallons in her room?—but she told me not to. Said it could hurt the baby. So I decided that the only option was to tell this doctor the whole truth, about the body switch and everything, and it was really bloody hard … I was in his office for over five hours, Dracums. But at least it's a start. I'm going to get better; I'm not going to let this illness destroy our relationship … or our family."
Draco partly withdrew his hand. "Illness, Harry? But you're not ill … are you?" he asked anxiously.
"Apparently I am," Harry said darkly. "I'm suffering from some sort of personality disorder. I didn't get all the medical explanations he gave me, but it's pretty much a result of my self-hatred. It's nothing serious or anything, it's just something that I need to work with for some time … and I'm really glad that I went to see him, because this is the first step towards making up with you."
Draco pulled away and rose from the table. He had to put a little distance between him and Harry. He went over to the windows and stood with his back to his lover.
"Does it scare you?" Harry asked forthrightly.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. I never meant to be mentally ill. I'm just complicating everything, aren't I?"
"No, that's not why I'm scared," Draco objected. "I'm not scared because you're mentally ill—it's not your fault. I'm scared because I might lose you over this. If the Death Eaters find out that Harry Potter is mentally unstable … I don't even dare to think what they'd do to you …"
He had to blink away several tears.
The gardens were so beautiful at the end of summer.
"Draco … are you breaking through?"
Draco turned to look at him. "Huh?"
"Are you breaking through your hatred, I mean?" Harry elaborated patiently.
"Breaking through …? Maybe … a little … Gradually, every minute that passes, I hate you a little less. But it's a long way yet. I wish I could erase it all at once, but …"
Harry smiled. "And I wish I could erase mine just as fast." He looked down at his untouched coffee. "So, do you ... do you tell James that bedtime story often?"
Draco jerked involuntarily. "It happens," he said warily.
"I love you for making my life so beautiful, Dracums," Harry murmured. "And I mean both the way you told that story … the story of my life … and the way you make my life beautiful with your mere presence. Just being with you … just talking to you, or holding you …" He smiled happily at the memory of the blonde in his arms. "It's enough to make my life meaningful and beautiful, and each smile you give me gives me another reason to live and prolongs my life another few seconds. I love you for being in my life, Dracums. Thank you."
Eyes watering, Draco went up to Harry and took his hands in his. Acting on an emotional impulse, he pulled Harry up on his feet and threw his arms around him. Burying his face deep down in Harry's currently long, wavy blond hair, he sobbed: "That was the most beautiful thing anyone's ever said to me. You just made a little more of that hatred go away."
Harry gratefully put his arms around Draco's back and held him tight. "Just by embracing me like this, you made some of my hatred vanish, too. Thank you."
"I love you, Harry."
"I love you, too. I love you so bloody much … Don't let go—please, don't let go, I don't want you to let go of me, Draco. Just hold me …"
"Don't worry, I don't intend to let go. This feels so bloody nice … Right now, I don't hate you at all."
"Then just hold me."
Harry was crying.
They struggled hard to make their relationship work again, and week by week things were slowly going back to normal. Draco had played Harry and contacted his professors at Auror School to tell them that he needed a break for personal and psychological reasons. They did not at all find it hard to believe that Harry Potter had finally given in to the enormous pressure he had as 'the saviour of magic-kind,' and they very willingly gave him as much time off as he needed for his therapy.
The other students would not know anything about it, of course; they were told that Harry had been given a special assignment from the Ministry and had to be away for a couple of months or so.
Slowly, gradually, the wounds in Draco's heart healed, and his hatred faded away. After a fortnight, Harry asked him out on a date as if they had never dated before. Draco found it incredibly comical—and sexy in a weird sort of way—and instantly consented. Harry took him to a quiet restaurant in London, Draco's first experience of a Muggle establishment.
He actually kind of liked it. He thought the Muggles must be incredibly stupid because they used their hands for everything when there was magic, but he enjoyed the food and the romantic atmosphere. He did not at all mind the stares that some people gave them because they were so obviously a gay couple.
Harry had gone to extreme lengths to cover up his pregnancy to avoid the exposure of their world, and Draco kept teasing him with comments like "How's your baby?" instead of saying "How's your food?", and "Getting down enough fuel for all two of you?"
After a month, they had got used to being in each other's bodies, and Harry was doing really well with his therapy; he was slowly coming along, and in September he made his first breakthrough. "Draco!" he called as soon as he returned home.
The blonde immediately came into the parlour. "What's up?" he asked casually.
Harry was beaming with joy, something he had never done after one of his sessions with Dr. Windpipe, and it warmed Draco to see. "I didn't let Sirius down!" he said enthusiastically. "I actually helped him, Draco! I did manage to keep my promise to him, didn't I? I cleared his name, just like I said I would, didn't I?"
Draco raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Yeah, of course you did. You needed a whole month of therapy to reach that conclusion? I could have told you that four years ago."
Harry surprised him by sweeping him into his arms and off his feet and then dancing around the room with the baffled blonde in total paralysis. "I know! But I wouldn't have listened four years ago. Draco, do you know what this means? I'm getting better! Hell, I feel wonderful! I haven't been this free of anxiety in over seven years—suddenly it's easy to breathe again! Oh, I love life! And I love you," he added, and kissed Draco.
Draco was completely taken aback by this sudden display of joyous providence, but after a while he found himself and laughed together with Harry, enjoying the moment to the fullest. He pulled his arms tighter around Harry's neck and affectionately kissed his left cheek.
There were many moments like that after that. Eventually, they were back in a sort of everyday behaviour, and they could even banter and tease each other again. Draco felt great—invigorated and born again—because his hatred was completely gone, and Harry was doing great, too; he had started to come to terms with his past. But there was still a big question mark around his coming to terms with the pregnancy, though …
"You know that you have to go to the maternity ward for another ultrasound tomorrow, right?" Draco asked him one morning.
Harry moaned. "Nooo … I don't want to go there with all those women there … it's embarrassing …"
"No, it's not embarrassing," Draco reassured, "they're all very nice and very understanding. You could discuss your tender nipples with them 'cos I'm tired of hearing you nagging about them."
"As if! I'm not mentioning any of my body parts in a woman's presence!"
"Then don't. But you still need to go. For Joseph."
Harry pondered it a moment. "Yeah, you're right, babe. Better do it for Joseph."
Draco spent most of the day cleaning, then he picked up James at the day care centre and spent the rest of the day playing with the boy. Piper, whom had kept mostly to herself the few days she was actually at the Manor (she was spending more and more time in Japan with Yousuke), occasionally showed up to ask him how he was doing, and the twelfth time she did so, he told her off for being in his way and getting on his nerves, so the next time she came to bother him she asked how he wasn't doing instead.
Harry brought a surprise that evening. When Draco went to meet him by the fireplace in the den, he gave him a bouquet of beautiful red roses. Draco gasped and swiftly retrieved the flowers, sniffed them happily, and counted them. "A whole dozen, Harry!" he said, impressed.
"Certainly, nothing less is good for my partner in life," Harry joked. "A dozen means claiming your love for someone, right?"
"Yes. Oh, Harry, they're lovely … thank you." He kissed him fleetingly and went to put the flowers in a vase. They sat in the den that night, just talking … and they talked for six hours. Way past midnight, they finally got up, exhausted after a long day, and went upstairs to turn in.
They both stopped in the doorway to the nursery to check on James. The boy was sleeping soundly, not a worry on his face, and he looked so peaceful. Draco met Harry's gaze. They smiled at each other, silently giving their thanks to their wonderful little family.
When they had brushed their teeth and everything, Draco accompanied Harry into the master bedroom, because it felt natural to do so now. They had had separate bedrooms for over a month and never said a word about sharing a bed; they were both willing to let everything happen in due time. So when Draco closed the door behind them and stripped out of his clothes, Harry said nothing. They both knew that it was time, and it felt wonderful to be together again. Draco snuggled down beside Harry and put his arms around him, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder.
Without a word, they fell asleep.
Draco lay on his back on their bed with a huge, happy smile playing on his lips. It had felt so good to be sleeping in the same bed as Harry again, and he savoured the memory of it while he waited for Harry to get ready in the bathroom.
Giggling in a kinky sort of way, he put a hand low on his stomach and wondered what it would be like to make love in Harry's body. Somewhat to his surprise, he discovered that he actually wanted to make love to Harry. He had thought that it would take a few more weeks at least to reach that stage, but he seemed to be coping faster in the end …
"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" he heard Harry saying in the bathroom.
"Are you okay in there?" he called teasingly.
"Yeah, I'm a'right," Harry called back. Then: "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, OW!"
"Wha're you doing in there?"
"I'm shaving my chest, but these fucking boobs are in the way and they hurt like Hell!"
Draco laughed. "Do you have to do that now? It must be really painful to shave when they're so sore …"
"Yeah, it is," Harry said matter-of-factly. "Ow, Hell!"
Draco shook his head in resignation. "Harry—you're crazy." Feeling naughty, he slowly moved his hand further down … This was a whole new way of exploring Harry's body …
"What?" Harry called from the bathroom. "I'm not crazy—I just want you to look good for me."
Draco burst out in laughter. "What?! You want me to look good for you?! That is sooo cheesy!"
He imagined Harry blushing crimson.
"I mean … I want to look good in you … no, what I mean is … I want to look good in your body for you, or something like that … Hell, I don't know what I mean, I just hate hairy chests, and screw if it hurts."
"That's great, Harry," Draco said, fingering on the top button in Harry's newest pair of jeans, which he was currently wearing. "Harry, come and make love to me," he pleaded boldly.
It was awfully quiet in the bathroom for a long, long time.
Draco was getting impatient. "Harryyyy …"
"No."
"What do you mean, 'No'? Here I'm finally willing to take the final step back into paradise, and you say no? That is so mean …" he mocked affectionately.
"I don't feel like it with these bombs ready to explode any second—they hurt," he said firmly.
Pouting, Draco rolled over onto his stomach. "But you just said you wanted to look good in me … don't tell me that wasn't an invite. You want me."
"No, honestly, I don't. No offense, babe."
"None taken—yet. Come on, Harry … don't try to fool me into believing that you're not feeling the least bit horny, because you're always horny during that stage of pregnancy. At least I was …"
Harry laughed. "Yeah, I am horny, but I still don't want to do anything about it. Sorry."
"Hmpf. Then you better be prepared to take care of it all on your own in the future," Draco stated in mock offense, trying a new strategy to get his way. He was sooo sexually frustrated …
Harry was searching for something in the bathroom cabinets. "What do you mean?" he asked in lack of understanding.
"I'm talking about masturbation," Draco said simply.
"Masturbation?" Harry echoed. "No way! That's like cheating!"
"It is not!" Draco protested.
"In my world it is," Harry persisted.
"Oh … in that case I've cheated on you thousands of times already, and I'm about to do it again if you don't come here faster than lightning because I'm reeeaaally starting to get impatient here."
A lot of weird bang!s and thud!s came from the bathroom, then he could hear Harry's hurried footsteps coming towards him through the hallway. The next second, he appeared in the doorway, naked except for a pair of black, tight boxers. "You what?!" he breathed. "You've masturbated?!"
Draco yawned and rolled back onto his back. "Not today, no, but I have loads of times in the past, yeah," he informed Hysterical Harry. "Boy, you look really attractive in that belly … especially when you're upside-down …"
But Harry would not let go of the subject. "You haven't masturbated in my body, have you?" he demanded to know.
"No, but I'm bloody tempted, you know. You should be glad that I've been able to keep my hands off your beautiful, flawless body all this time I have been walking around in it, you know."
"I am! Believe me, I am!"
Draco pouted again and made quite an effort to look sensuous and inviting to Harry. "Will you come make love to me now, Hawwy? I'm craving for you here, an innocent little creature like me … I need you … you could use me all day if you liked, Harry—I'm yours."
Finally, Harry gave in and came to him, crawled up to him. Draco instantly captured his mouth with his and put an arm around his neck, eagerly urging him on by pressing his crotch hard against Harry's. It felt oddly good to caress Harry's bumpy belly, although it was in fact his own, and the fact that they were expecting a child together turned him on so fucking much …
He directed Harry's hand to the buttons in his jeans. Harry carefully unbuttoned the jeans while simultaneously kissing, licking, biting at the blonde's nape, eliciting several hoarse semi-cries of anticipation from Draco.
Draco bucked and tensed when Harry gently pulled down the jeans over his hips and deliberately massaged his groin before pulling the trousers off entirely. Oh, he always had to tease him … but it felt so good to be teased, so good … He lifted his head off the bed and roughly pressed his lips to Harry's. Then he made a fleeting gesture with his right hand, and said, "Boxers, boxers …"
Harry smiled smugly and did something he had never done before—believe it or not. He backed up a bit and bent down so his face was in line with Draco's groin and gently took a hold of the elastic of the boxers with his teeth, and slowly—growling!—began to pull them off, like some animal! Naturally, he experienced some difficulty when he was going to pull the boxers off Draco's rock hard erection and had to twist his head in an odd direction to manage it, because he was dead serious on doing it with his mouth and teeth only. When he had finally succeeded to get them off, he stopped for a while, and still smiling mischievously—referring to a certain limb—he said, "Wow! Is that really how big I am?"
Draco laughed. "Shut up!" He firmly forced Harry up from there so they were face to face. Fixing his eyes on Harry's with an obscene glint in them, he said, "Why do you think I like it with you on top so much?"
Harry blushed. "You're embarrassing me … I'm not that fantastic, am I?"
"Oh, baby, fantastic's just your middle name … But now move over, I'm gonna be on top this time. I just have to try out your body, babe. And besides … with that belly you won't get far, takes some getting used to before you learn how to do it."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop nattering. Are we gonna talk or fuck?"
Draco grinned teasingly. "What's this word I hear you use? You've never said 'fuck' before, Harry."
"Do I have to say it again to make you do it?! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! There—happy? Fuck."
"You're so sexy when you say 'fuck' … say it again …"
"Fuck."
Draco desperately pressed his lips to Harry's, rolling them both over and ending up on top, just where he wanted to be. He could feel the blood rushing through Harry's body, and it was as if he could feel both their hearts beating like crazy; a wonderful, wonderful feeling.
Without further ado, he pushed inside Harry, and the moment he did so, both their souls broke through the barricades to the physical world and they magically, miraculously seemed to change back. One moment he looked down at silky silver hair—the next he was looking at messy, fly-away black hair. Harry moaned and rose to receive Draco's thrusts—FLASH! they were back in each other's bodies—Draco shifting his support to make it more comfortable for them both—FLASH!—and their eyes met in a tremulous moment that seemed to stop time altogether.
There seemed to be an inevitable and immensely strong energy sparkling between them, and when he looked into Harry's eyes like that, he felt a strong surge of desire pass through him. He rocked his hips faster.
Harry gasped. "Dracums! Oh, God, Dracums! Please—" FLASH! "—yes! Yes! Yes!"
Harry hardly ever cried out loudly like that—it was mostly Draco who cried out in ecstasy, really—so Draco seized the moment and rocked faster, thrust harder, bent down to nibble at Harry's nape and earlobe. Beneath him, Harry began to tremble—FLASH!—and he desperately squeezed his arms around Draco, his eyelids fluttering real sexy-like. "Oh, God, Draco … Draco … Give it to me, trash me!"
A long, guttural screeching escaped his throat, and his nails dug into the blonde's back; he bucked and slid on his back on the white sheets, writhing in exquisite ecstasy.
Draco almost lost his breath and had to slow down for a moment not to faint, but Harry immediately lifted his head off the bed and gave him a pleading, desperate, and comically hungry look. "No, no, don't stop, don't stop! Haaaaah … I'm so close, so close … baby, don't stop, I'm … I'm … haah!"
FLASH!—Harry was blond again. But Draco did not care; their looks did not matter; it did not matter that they were in each other's bodies; what mattered was that they were there, and that they were there together. With that realisation in mind, he gave all he had to take Harry exactly where he wanted to go—and to take himself there as well, of course.
Had it not been for the fact that Draco was swiftly closing in on orgasm, as well, he probably would have laughed out loud at Harry's cheesy, pseudo-kinky commentary, but being as it were, he was much too occupied with his own state of pleasure to fully notice. When Harry finally came, he screamed like he had never screamed before, and if Piper or anyone else at the Manor had ever doubted that they'd ever make love again, they would doubt no more. "Oh, Dracums, Dracums, yes! Fuck, Dracums, fuck, yes, take it home!"
Exhausted, they lay splayed on the bed and tried to catch their breaths. A broad smile came to Draco's lips. "That was bloody brilliant, Harry. Don't you think so? Man, it's been too long … you could really feel that month of celibacy in our energy, don't you think?" He snuggled up closer to Harry and nibbled a little on his earlobe. "Didn't you think it was bloody brilliant?"
Harry chuckled. "Yeah, bloody well was," he agreed.
Draco partly rose into a sitting position, his face lit up with expectation. "Then what do you say we go at it again?"
Harry stared at him in shock. "What, now?"
"Yeah! Why not?"
"Draco, I'm sorry, but I'm all beat. You might be full of energy, but I'm pregnant here and I don't have any more energy. I want to make love to you all night, all day tomorrow, five days in a row even, but I can't possibly perform again. Sorry."
Draco lay back down and put his arms around Harry. Sighed happily. "That's okay, I'll give you five minutes to breathe, then," he said.
Harry jerked. "You're only willing to give me five minutes to collect myself?!" he exclaimed.
"Relax, I'm kidding. To be honest, I don't have enough energy, either. Let's just lie here and cuddle for a moment, all right?"
Harry buried his nose in Draco's hair. "I'll cuddle with you for all of eternity, babe."
For a few wonderful minutes, Draco thought back to their act of love with happy, warm, tingly feelings in the pit of his stomach. He was so glad that they had finally reached the ultimate level of trust again. It had been hard work, but it had all been worth it. Then suddenly, he remembered Harry's screaming and chuckled to himself.
Harry snuggled closer. "Wha'?"
Draco decided to have a bit of fun with him. "Harry, 'give it to me'?" he asked sceptically. "What kind of demand is that?"
Harry lifted his head slightly to meet his gaze. "Excuse me?"
"That's what you said when you were all ecstatic over my expert moves."
"I've never said that," Harry protested in confusion.
"Oh, yes you did! Just before, when we were making love! You said 'Draco, give it to me, trash me!' God, Harry, you're such a slut!"
Harry sat up, his face red with offense. "I am not! And I'm sure I didn't say it like that!"
"Yeah, you did! You said all sorts of corny stuff!"
"Did not!"
"'Fuck, Dracums, fuck! Take it home!'" Draco shrieked and almost laughed his guts out.
Harry was redder than red. "Did I really say all that?" he asked cautiously.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Draco replied, and laughed even harder.
"That is so embarrassing," Harry said, and would not look at him. "And the door's open and everything! Why didn't you close the door?!"
"Me? You were the one who came in here from the bathroom—I was just lying here on the bed all innocently touching myself, trying to look sexy enough for you to jump me …"
"So the door was my bad, then. But … man, I've never yelled like that before. And I wasn't even aware of it myself. Must be your body influencing me somehow."
"Yeah, go on, just blame everything on my body, why don't you?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just … being in your body … maybe I finally found whatever I needed to completely let go and fully allow myself to be swept away and live in the moment. Or something like that."
Draco kissed his roughed-up hair. "I like that explanation better. Now come lay down with me, you sex beast!"
Next morning's mail was late, and Harry happened to be in the den when Hedwig flew in threw the open window. He greeted his owl, patted her head, and took the letters and the Prophet and went over to one of the cosy armchairs to skim through them. When his eyes fell on the front page of the Prophet, he froze. "Draco!" he called urgently. When the blonde did not immediately respond, he got anxious and called again. "Draco!"
The blonde appeared in the archway from the parlour, a frown on his rosy face. "Where's the fire?"
Harry could not stop staring at the Prophet. His hands were shaking. "Draco … he's back," was all he could manage.
The frown on Draco's forehead deepened into a scowl. "Who?"
Finally, Harry found the strength to raise his gaze and look at Draco. "Pywercaseley. They brought him back."
Draco jerked. "Brought him back? How?"
Harry read aloud: "'An urgent message arrived at the Prophet's main office in London early this morning with a direct demand to publish it in today's newspaper, and it is our opinion—as well as the Minister's—that it is to be taken seriously. The Dark Lord known as Pywercaseley was killed by Harry Potter, also known as The Boy Who Lived and who is living with Draco Malfoy, sole heir of the Malfoy line and the person who freed the world of You-Know-Who, little over a month ago, but the Dark Lord has now returned to his throne. Apparently, Death Eaters from his closest circle used extremely advanced dark magic to bring Lord Pywercaseley back from the dead, and this morning they succeeded. The Dark Lord's first words when he woke up from his long sleep are said to have been 'I will kill that Potter!'" Harry looked up at Draco. "Do you know what this means?"
Draco was silent for a long while. Then he nodded. "Yes, I understand perfectly well. He's going to come after us, and this time he knows that Harry Potter is protected from the death curse—"
"—which means that he'll focus on the person he thinks is Draco Malfoy," Harry concluded.
Rain started to fall on the ground and hammered persistently on the window panes.
"And that person is you."
Harry swallowed hard. "Yes, I'm Draco Malfoy now. And my guess is that I'm not protected in your body."
"And since I don't know how to control this protection—whatever it is—neither am I," Draco stated. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't know."
Draco sank down into a green armchair.
Piper leapt into the room, her whole appearance telling them that this was a happy, happy Piper-day. Too bad it was not a happy day for them all … "Hey! What's up with the sullen faces, laddies?" she asked and stopped just in front of them.
Harry threw her the paper. His head had begun to throb, so he did not really feel like reciting it again. He expected Piper's smile to fade away when she read the story about Pywercaseley's remarkable return, but instead her smile just broadened. "Ah, perfect!" she said. "I know exactly how we're going to stop him this time! This is perfect—superb!" She made a queer little dance.
Harry and Draco stared at her incredulously. "And how exactly are you going to do that?" Draco inquired. "We already tried once, and that obviously didn't work!"
She waved at him dismissively. "Oh, don't bother your little gay brain with things that are beyond you!" she said. "I have the perfect spell for this! My guess is it will enable us to defeat this so-called Dark Lord once and for all!"
She made to leap out of the room, but Draco called after her. "Oy! What do you mean 'you have a spell'?! Don't you dare poison me with your potions again!"
She stopped in the doorway to the dining room and looked back in at them. "Oh, don't worry, Drakie-poops! I'm going to try it on myself this time! It's perfectly safe, I promise you! Just wait here, I'll go get it from my room!"
She skipped away.
So all they had to do was wait for her to return.
"Now," she said when she was back with a small piece of parchment, "let's see here …"
"Wait," Draco said. "What exactly is this spell supposed to do? Do we have to hide before you say it? Will it explode?"
Piper laughed. "No, no, no! It won't explode. Not like you did yesterday morning, anyway …"
Harry blushed and looked away.
"No, this is a Power Enhancement Spell that I created some time ago. It will multiply my powers as many times as possible and make me invincible! Or, well, that's the thought, anyway … Now, let's see if it works!" Pointing her wand at herself, she read aloud from the parchment: "Ancient guardians hear my words, bring me the power to save the world!"
Nothing exploded.
For once, Piper had managed to keep that promise.
But what happened might even be worse than an explosion. Because it was not Piper's powers that were multiplied—it was Piper herself!
One moment, they were looking at Draco's older sister … and the next, there were eight of her.