The Sleeping Beauty Curse

Chapter 23

One month later

Draco didn't seem to want to touch the watch at first, just stared at it when Harry awkwardly handed it over in its box. He still thought it was a weird present, even though it was something Draco had specifically asked for: the watch that had nearly been the death of him, catch fixed and smashed dial mended. The old dent, though, that had been there when Molly had given it to Harry for his seventeenth, was still there. Draco had insisted it wasn't polished out.

Draco eventually took the watch out of the box and held it in his fingers, looking down at it. He ran his fingertips over it, over the dent. Then he smiled and put it back in the box. "Thank you," he said, turning towards Harry.

"Er, you're welcome?" Harry said. "You don't want to wear it tonight?"

Draco snorted. "This piece of Weasley junk? No, thank you," he said, and then his lips quirked. "I'm not nuts." He got up and slid the box into the bottom drawer of his bedside table. "I don't really want a constant reminder of how I broke myself in a million places. I just . . ." He looked a little awkward, fingers knotting into the edge of his short robe. "It was an important thing to you. And so it's an important thing to me too, I suppose. You shouldn't throw something meaningful away just because thinking about it makes you feel uncomfortable."

This rang an odd chord in Harry. "I . . . meant to ask," he said, fiddling with the ring on his finger. "The protection spells on this ring . . ."

"Were definitely, one hundred per cent all designed for Astoria," Draco said gravely, and then yelped as Harry rose up to wreak a terrible, jealous revenge, pinning him to the bed. "May I distract you from your righteous anger with a shag?" Draco offered, lips quirking.

"We don't have time, you git," Harry said, rolling off him and simultaneously rolling his eyes.

"If we can't be late for our own party, when can we be late?" Draco said, rolling with him and pinning him to the bed in turn. "Evanesco!" he said, and his and Harry's clothes disappeared.

"You've been practising," Harry said sternly. At least, as sternly as he could whilst naked under Draco, which wasn't all that stern in the grand scheme of things. "And thanks for Vanishing my best robes. We're definitely going to be late now."

"Whoops," Draco said, not sounding very sorry. Then: "Oh, hang on," he said, and swished his wand, turning the white-furred teddy bear on the bedside table to face the wall. "I don't think Sir Thuban Etamin needs to see this."

Harry started laughing – Draco was such a weirdo – but the laugh broke off in his throat. Draco was already reaching for the lube and slicking up his fingers, before pressing one gently but insistently into Harry's arse. They'd had sex several times that day so far, and Harry was still loose and relaxed from their last round.

"Your mother'll be mad at you if you're not there to welcome the guests," Harry said, still trying for stern, despite Draco's wicked fingers.

"If you can think about my mother right now, I'm clearly not trying hard enough," Draco said, and withdrew his fingers. He tugged at Harry until Harry was on his hands and knees, and then slicked up his cock, sheathing himself in Harry with one long, firm press that had Harry groaning.

"And I was meant to—" Harry started. But what he was meant to do at the party no longer seemed important when Draco reached round to jerk him off, pounding into him simultaneously. Draco knew exactly how and where to rub him to get him off in an embarrassingly record speed, and now he was grinding against the sensitive nerves inside him too.

Harry came in just a few minutes, and Draco continued to fuck all the breath out of him, dropping his cock to grip so hard at his hips as he fucked that it stung. It was unbelievably hot. Draco didn't last much longer, emptying himself into Harry and then collapsing on top of him, a delicious but heavy weight.