herumtreiber

Title: Unusual ending - chapter 4
Chapter: four
Author:herumtreiber
Genre: Slash, time travel, romance, adventure
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or related characters. Nor do I make any money from the writing of these stories.
Rating: R
Warnings: Sexual content
Epilogue compliant? No way!
Chapter length: 3892 words
Beta: None.
Summary: Old meets new. Harry walks all over Draco's heart, and when he realizes his mistakes he does the unforgivable so Draco takes him back. Time travel. During HBP, disregards Deathly Hallows - that means everyone's alive, except Sirius, but...

Table of contents

Chapter three - part 2

Warning: Slash

March 23rd, 1997

On Sunday, Harry arrived at the Room of Requirement to prepare it for his rendezvous with Draco. It opened suddenly, without the requisite pacing back and forth in front of it. Harry also noticed that there was no tapestry with the ballet-dancing troll. Perhaps time-traveling was not all it was cracked up to be and it was messing with his head.

Harry scowled – he didn't need no dancing trolls. Perhaps Ron had taken it in the hopes the troll would teach him how to dance and he wouldn't step on Hermione's toes so much.

The Room opened to reveal a large bedroom, softly lit by the moonlight – it was always full moon inside because Draco liked it so – and Harry loved to see Draco's milky skin bathed by the soft light of the moon.

There were a lot of floating candles in the room. Harry waved his wand and extinguished most of them.

He lifted the rim of his glasses with one finger and took off his robe. He was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt.

He sat on the bureau near the canopied bed and took off his Gryffindor tie, idly discarding it on the Slytherin green duvet, near the fluffy pillows.

Harry took out his Potions book and a quill and started doodling on the textbook. He recalled when Ron and he started the class without it. Snape had motioned imperiously towards the cabinet and they fought for the only book.

Harry gazed wistfully at the wall – he still missed Ron, he just wished he would grow up a bit.

Harry ended up with the used, dog-eared book and took it to his table. Snape had told them to prepare Felix felicis, and he had just started reading the bloody book when it was suddenly snapped shut by a furious Potions Master who seized it.

Harry had to use Hermione's, and he failed to do the potion – it ended up being a ghoulish green goo.

Bloody Snape, confiscating books as if they were his own!

Half an hour later, Draco came in. He looked a bit battered.

"Had a rough meeting?" – asked Harry concernedly.

"No, Voldemort was his usual bloody self. He's angry because he lost his man in Hogwarts." Draco took off his robe and his tie, throwing them on the bed next to Harry's tie.

Draco mussed his blond hair and then stretched languorously. He sat on the edge of the bed and continued, "Don't know what the hell he means.

"Must've been something Pettigrew said. The rat just came back from America."

Harry scowled fiercely at the book and snapped it shut with a forceful motion, "I wish I could lay my hands on that traitor!"

"Anyways, the coward reported that he'd found a Slytherin in New Hampshire," – Draco lazily waved his wand and conjured a fresh green apple, which he proceeded to eat leisurely.

Harry was distracted from his foul mood by the motion of Draco's lips as he bit into the delicious apple. He wished that his pouty lips were around his….

"The rat found a Potions master working there" - continued Draco oblivious of Harry's lustful thoughts – "some bloke called Slughorn."

Having finished the apple – to Harry's disappointment – Draco laid down on the bed, propped on his elbows, and continued, "Turns out that Slughorn was hiding from some creditors. He was camouflaged as a chair." He put his wand next to Harry's Gryffindor's tie, grimacing at the colors.

Draco proceeded to take off his shoes and socks. Harry's blood was running south and he hardly paid attention to the Slytherin, "Some tourist from America liked the chair and took it home. Sluggy ended up working as a manager of a furniture store."

Harry grabbed his wand and used it to take off his shoes, shirt and trousers. He muttered, "Really?" – hoping that Draco would finish his tale about that bloody chair, or couch or whatever.

"Anyways, that was the reason Voldemort was angry. He had inside information that Dumbledore intended to give the chair – I mean the man – the job of teaching Potions," – continued Draco while he undid his belt and lifted his slim hips, taking off his black trousers, to Harry's delight.

"So that's why Snape is still teaching Potions, and Dumbledore was forced to hire Remus to teach DADA," – said Harry hurriedly as he took off his own wool trousers, fumbling a bit with the belt in his haste to reach the good parts.

Harry scowled at the canopy of the bed, not that he got to see Remus much. He was currently on his honeymoon in bloody Australia, for Merlin's sake! He'd married Tonks and left in a hurry to look for some artifacts in Ayers Rock. And in his future… Remus and Tonks died.

Harry gulped and tried to focus on the present, on the here and now with his Dragon.

Dumbledore was teaching DADA, not that he taught them anything really useful.

But he stopped that train of thought when he saw Draco. The Slytherin was reclining his head on the pillow, his milky skin reflected the light of the candles and the moonlight, lending it the look of finest alabaster.

Draco was fidgeting with the elastic edge of his briefs. He looked up at Harry, and the Gryffindor drowned in those grey eyes.

Harry scooted up the bed and touched his forehead to Draco's, saying breathily, "But I don't care about Voldemort, or Dumbledore or whoever. You're here with me, and that's all that matters."

Draco lifted one hand to touch tenderly Harry's scar, "You´re different, Harry."

He ruffled Harry's unruly mop of hair, "You've suddenly changed a lot. All of a sudden."

Draco glared weakly at Harry as he continued, "I have some ideas – but I don't really care. You're mine at last."

The Slytherin looked sideways at the canopy, "But you keep saying that my love is eternal or something" – he faltered and then continued softly – "but it isn't. I almost gave you up that day. I was so tired of being pushed to the sidelines. I felt like I was only your plaything."

Draco edged away from Harry and looked sadly at the wall, "So you see, I'm not perfect, nor as constant as you think."

Harry gazed tenderly at his Dragon, indeed he represented infinity variety. Sometimes he was strong, and then he was vulnerable – like now. He yearned to know him fully, to grow with him.

It wasn't a matter of who topped or bottomed, it was about who cared – and loved. Life – and that old geezer – had taught him that.

Harry suspected the man was Lucius, why else would he don the dark glasses, if not to hide the strikingly grey Malfoy eyes? And the snarky way he referred to the Gryffindors – it had to be Lucius.

And if Draco thought he was the perfect romantic – Harry'd had a lot of time during those bitter months away from him, time to read books and watch movies and think about all the things he would do if only he got another chance with his Draco.

So Harry was not perfect at all, but he couldn't explain everything to Draco right now. He would do it, but not just now. This moment was for laughter, and passion, and recharging their batteries as they prepared to face Voldemort.

Harry sat astride Draco's thighs and caressed his face, tracing with the fingers of his right hand his straight, perfect nose, "You're perfect for me, Draco."

He leaned until the tip of his nose touched Draco's and said huskily, "And I'm yours, my Dragon."

Draco reached up for Harry's glasses and took them off him, putting them gently on the bureau.

Draco kissed him hungrily and then whispered, "You know, Harry, I liked … some things in our past" – he gulped and turned his face aside, blushing and evading Harry's heated gaze – "some things that I miss."

Harry sat up slowly and said huskily, "I reckon I know what ya mean, Dragon."

He caressed the Dragon's flanks. He picked up his wand and conjured their briefs away. He looked interestedly at Draco's thick cock. It was nearly erect, and the glans peeked from the rosy foreskin.

Harry muttered, "Accio lube."

He caught the flying vial and opened it. He rolled sideways and touched Draco's left thigh, "Open up, Draco."

After Draco parted his thighs, Harry upended the vial and let the liquid coat the fingers of his right hand.

He sighed as he his index finger breached Draco's warm channel. He'd missed this so much, this magic moment when he made Draco his.

Draco moaned and spread his legs wantonly. Harry leaned to lick hungrily the tip of his red cock. He intended to make use of the thick dick later on, but first….

Draco put his long legs around Harry's waist as the Gryffindor knelt above him and lined his glans against his entrance. Draco felt the bulbous head enter and pause for a moment, allowing him time to get used to the intrusion. He closed his eyes and savored the stretch.

There was a new timidity to Harry's movements, as if he was afraid that Draco would break or would just disappear. He didn't understand it, but it didn't matter. He had what he wanted.

He pushed himself backwards, spearing himself on Harry's thick cock, moaning and writhing under the Gryffindor's tentative thrusts.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry, mesmerized by his red cheeks and glittering emerald eyes, shining softly in the moonlight. That was the reason he loved the Room and its special light. Harry was all mysterious-looking, all his.

He lifted his hand and touched with his fingertips a drop of sweat that was sliding down Harry's chest.

Draco brought his fingers to his mouth and sensuously licked the pads, gazing at Harry all the while. Harry moaned and pushed harder into him.

He pumped his cock into and out of Draco's inviting channel as Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders, propping himself up and kissing the Gryffindor hungrily, demandingly.

Harry kept thrusting in and out until he felt he was near the edge. He wrapped his hands around Draco's slick cock and jerked it easily, helped by his precome. It made a squelching sound as the foreskin slid over the angry glans, equaled by the sound of Harry's cock sliding in and out of Draco.

The Slytherin came with a shout, and the clenching of his soft walls, caressing his cock, prompted Harry over the edge. He spilled inside his love.

Tired, he laid down on Draco, kissing his face tenderly.

Finally he rolled sideways and slipped out of Draco with an audible pop.

Draco's arm reached out behind Harry's head. He grabbed his wand from its position near the Gryffindor's tie. He swished it lazily and cleaned them with a muttered spell.

He stood up and went to the bathroom, walking a bit wobbly.

Harry stretched luxuriously on the bed. He wasn't completely exhausted by any means. In fact, he was restless. Draco brought that in him.

He grabbed his glassed and put them on. He lazily moved his hand around the pillows until he found his wand, then he muttered, 'Accio book'n'quill.'

He caught the book and the self-inking quill that Hermione had given him, back when they were still good friends.

Harry sighed as he started doodling on the book, eagerly awaiting Draco´s return…

….. "Mr. Potter… Mr. Potter, are you with us?"

Harry sat up suddenly, he laid the quill on the desk and looked at the picture he'd drawn of Draco's angry red cock. The picture moved and jerked sideways, slithering insinuatingly closer.

He squirmed on his seat, bloody Draco and his thick… wit!

Harry lifted his glasses with his right pinky and looked guiltily at McGonagall, who was still barking something about a Transfiguration or other.

He took out his wand and waved it lazily, transforming the small teapot in front of him into an angry white hedgehog whose quills wavered menacingly – if cutely.

McGonagall sniffed and turned to glare at Dean Thomas, muttering under her breath, "Five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Potter's great work."

Harry sneaked a look and saw Hermione staring transfixed at his hedgehog - which he'd dubbed 'Hector' - while a teapot with several small feathers sat on her desk.

Harry smirked victoriously. Served the stuck-up Mione well!

He turned to look longingly at his magical doodle. McGonagall had interrupted when he was getting to the good parts, before Draco shagged him into the mattress!

What was a poor Gryffindor to do when he had no Pensieve at hand? And if he had, he wouldn't want the snarky Potions Master to stumble into the memories where Draco and he were buggering each other senseless.

Luckily he remembered this lesson well. He was beginning to forget the future. He couldn't recall how he vanquished Voldemort – only that Draco and Snape helped a lot.

Surely it didn't occur like Dumbledore wanted. The Headmaster didn't train him or anything, it was as if he expected Harry to just croak in front of Voldemort and vanquish him like that.

Harry scowled at the wall - when Dumbledore passed him on the corridors, the Headmaster kept glancing at him and muttering ominous things like, "Evil will pass through from their world into our own" – and - "Without you, we leave the fate of our world to chance."

Harry was tired of his weird sayings. If bloody Dumbledore really thought this - why didn't he train him?

But there were things he remembered very well, like his classes and everything having to do with Draco. He'd lost many people close to him and that had contributed to his despair and depression, when seemingly everyone had turned their backs on him and he was alone.

He was convinced that he could´ve weathered it all – if only he'd had someone beside him, someone like Draco.

Harry recalled what happened on Friday. The Seekers had been walking toward the Quidditch Pitch to practice, when they were momentarily blinded by the light of a flashing bulb. When they could see again, Colin Creevey was smiling sheepishly at them, holding his camera with his left hand.

Draco was furious and whipped out his wand, ready to cast a spell at the obnoxious Gryffindor, when Harry held his arm and stopped him. Harry was very angry too – but he'd had a brief memory of a small lifeless hand upon the floor of the Great Hall, and he couldn't bring himself to let Draco curse the mousy boy, even if he did deserve it.

He just shook his head at Colin and dragged Draco along, while the Slytherin muttered – "These silly Gryffindorks of yours, Harry, always following the fool Dumbledork. They drive me up the wall."

Draco scowled so furiously at Creevey that Colin shrunk back and scurried back to Gryffindor tower.

The bell ringing the end of classes jerked Harry back from his reverie. He stood up slowly, glowering furiously at his former friends Ron and Hermione. While McGonagall was chastising Neville for turning Ron's teacup into a porcupine – with a little help from Harry – the Seeker grabbed Hector and put him in his bag.

Justin Finch-Fletchley stood up from his seat two rows ahead of him. The curly-haired boy had been among those that turned on Harry when it came out he was gay – the hypocrite and traitorous Huffleduff!

Zacharias Smith passed by Justin – he smirked at him and said loudly, "See ya later, tiny!"

Everyone snickered, and Harry smirked devilishly.

It was wonderful having an Invisibility Cloak. Last week he snuck into and out of the bathrooms inside Hufflepuff - the basement was on the way to the Dungeons anyway - and he scrawled on the walls that Finch-Fletchley had a tiny prick. The nickname became common - cause it was true – the curly-haired Hufflepuff was small.

Harry shook his head, wondering what he'd ever seen in the tiny bastard.

Harry walked rapidly along the corridor and climbed the steps of the swivelling staircase, hoping it would connect to the right floor, or he would be late to Charms. Not that it mattered, because Flitwick was a kind teacher – most of the time.

After he arrived at the correct floor, Harry was sauntering along a corridor when he met Ron.

He grimaced as if smelling a wet dog and made to walk past him. However, Ron stopped him.

Harry braced himself for a confrontation with the Weasel, holding his bag close to his chest. He idly noticed that Ron had his hair a bit longer. He had dark circles under his blue eyes, and it looked as if he had been crying – a lot.

Harry sneered, remembering when Neville told him that Ron had imbibed Amortentia, brewed by Millicent Bulstrode. He'd professed his undying love for the heavy-jawed girl in the Great Hall during dinner - looking longingly at the Northern side of the Hall across the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, to the Slytherin table where Millicent sat blushing prettily, next to an astounded Pansy and Draco.

Later Neville told him that Ron whined, "These girls, Neville – they're gonna kill me."

Served the prat well! – thought Harry vindictively.

His meditations were interrupted when Ron threw himself at him, flinging his bag aside violently.

Ron hugged him, "'M sorry, Harry! 'M so sorry! I didn't know better!"

Harry stepped away; he put his left hand inside the bag, searching for Hector. If Ron had squashed the hedgehog, he'd make him pay. He muttered, "Ouch!" – when the sharp quills scratched his hand.

Harry scowled at his former friend, "You're crazy if you think I'm gonna forgive you that easily, Ron!"

He huffed and hurried to the classroom, noting that Ron smelled of Firewhiskey. Probably he'd snuck into the Twins' secret hiding place in Hogwarts – which was no secret to him, courtesy of the Marauder's Map.

Harry entered the Charms classroom and sat at the very back. He espied Hermione sitting at the front, looking around frantically, probably searching for Ron– her homophobic, drunk prat of a boyfriend.

Seamus and Dean entered after Harry. When they were passing him, Seamus turned to his friend and muttered loudly, "Let´s seat at the front. Me mom told me that being a pouf is contagious, ya know!"

Harry snorted and said loudly, "I bet yer mom doesn't know ya like it up the arse, Seam!"

Smiling at him, Harry drawled, "Ya like it, don't cha Seam? Ya like to ride Dean's thick cock!"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws snickered while Seamus retorted, "I don't!" – blushing and scampering away with Dean.

Harry grinned proudly until he saw Terry Boot.

His mood sinking a bit after he saw Terry, Harry bent down and took his Charms book and a quill out of the bag, petting Hector's head carefully. With a start, he remembered Hedwig.

He hadn't visited her since he came back to the past. She must be furious! He promised himself he'd go to the Owlery as soon as possible. Hopefully the irate owl would be amenable to some treats. He made the mental note not to take Hector with him when he visited her.

Professor Flitwick entered the classroom and everyone shut up. Flitwick took out his wand and levitated some thick books onto the chair. He proceeded to climb upon them and start lecturing about some Charm or other. Harry paid scant attention – because he'd heard it all before.

Coming from the future had its perks – study-wise. It allowed him the liberty not to focus on the lecture. Not that he'd ever needed that.

He idly wondered why Ron didn't have his Gryffindor tie. He'd been wearing a dark blue one on the corridor, as if he was going to a funeral.

Filius was about to call on Harry to explain the features of the Hair-thickening Charm - because the Gryffindor was doodling on his book, and frankly, Flitwick suspected Harry had used that charm on himself sometime in the past.

He said, "Mr. Potter, could you…"

But he was interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open.

Dennis Creevey burst into the room. The boy with the mousy brown hair skidded to a stop in front of Flitwick's desk, jogging the chair so the thick books wobbled precariously.

Harry looked up then, wondering idly if Flitwick would fall down from his perch atop the books.

Dennis looked frantically around the classroom until he found Harry. He gazed adoringly at the Gryffindor. Luckily for him, Draco was taking Arithmancy and wasn't there.

Flitwick said exasperatedly, "Mr. Creevey, why are you here?"

Dennis turned to face the Charms teacher and stuttered, "The h… headmaster wants to see Harry…"

Turning to look directly at his hero, he exclaimed, "Remus Lupin is here, Harry – he wants to see you!"

tbc

Chapter five