Sex Magic DRARRY

Chapter 8

Harry was late getting to Sex Magic that day. As he sulked into the Room of Requirement, he noticed the sour expression on Mason's face and immediately dropped his gaze to his shoes. She shook her head and pointed to he and Malfoy's booth.

"In you go, Mr. Potter," she sighed. "He'll inform you of your instructions."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry mumbled, keeping his head down as he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside.

Malfoy sat tensely on the sofa, his knees pressed primly together and wringing his hands. He jumped when Harry entered, his face flickering through a myriad of swiftly concealed emotions. Harry ignored him and made his way over to the opposite end of the couch, slumping down onto it in a haphazard arrangement of limbs. Removing his glasses, he set them on the low table nearby and threw an arm over his eyes.

"Mason says you're supposed to tell me our assignment," he muttered, exhausted from lack of sleep.

"Er, yes," said Malfoy. "We're supposed to, um, do what we did last week... Only more."

"More?"

"Yes," answered Draco.

"What, exactly, does more entail?" asked Harry.

"Uh... The same thing, only in other places," he replied, clearly uncomfortable. 

Harry sighed impatiently, not in the mood to deal with Malfoy's evasiveness. "Malfoy, just tell me what it is we're supposed to do."

"I already told you!" Draco said defensively.

"How about you just show me?" Harry muttered.

He hadn't truly realized what he'd said until he heard Malfoy's quiet "okay", and felt a warm pressure settle onto his lap. Jerking his arm away from his face so quickly that he almost hit the other boy, he stared incredulously up at Malfoy.

"What?" Malfoy protested, immediately attempting to back off. "You said-!" 

"I know. It's okay," Harry told him, bringing his hands down to grasp Malfoy's hips. "You just startled me."

"Let go!" Draco ordered, pushing against Harry's hands.

"What? Why?" asked Harry, confused.

"I don't want to anymore!" 

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Will you just calm down?" he asked irritably, attempting to get a better hold on the squirming boy.

"I. Said. Let. Go!" Draco shouted, punctuating each word with a shove against Harry's chest. 

"Ouch! Damn it, Malfoy!"

Grappling for control, Harry managed to ensnare Draco's hands in a firm grip and hauled them behind his back. Draco let out a very childish sound of frustration and reared back, his unsteady balance in Harry's lap and his own weight carrying him over the edge of the couch. Harry, his hands pulled helplessly along, followed with a startled grunt. 

They hit the floor in an ungraceful, tangled sprawl. Harry's nose was smashed against the floor, his hands still caught underneath Malfoy. Draco groaned and shifted, attempting to maneuver around Harry's knuckles pressed into the small of his back. 

"Here, lift up a bit," said Harry.

Draco did as asked, arching his back up off of the floor so that Harry could slide his hands out from underneath him. Harry pushed himself into a more comfortable position, turning his head so that his cheek lay against the cool floor. 

"Thanks," he murmured.

His breath passed over Draco's ear and he felt the blond tense. Harry grinned, remembering the sensitivity of his partner's ears, and deliberately blew a soft stream of air over the lobe. Draco gasped.