Disclaimers:  I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

Notes:  Harry decides to give Draco what he wants after careful consideration.  Warning:  Slash Lemon ahead!

Shadows of Truth

Part Five

“I want you, Harry.  Please . . . please make love to me.”  Draco whispered, his hot breath ghosting across Harry’s skin as he
spoke.  Around them, a flurry of snowflakes fell, covering them in icy wetness.

Harry blinked, hardly believing his ears.  He must have heard wrong . . . Draco couldn’t want what Harry thought he wanted.  
This had to be some trick, a joke.  It simply couldn’t be real.

However, the way that Draco straddled him . . . the kisses . . . each touch that Draco made to Harry’s shivering body . . . it
made Harry desperate to believe that it was true, that Draco really did want him like this.  But it wasn’t right.  No, Harry couldn’
t do this, not when Draco wasn’t in his right mind . . . Draco had just tried to kill himself, this wasn’t the way to help him now.

“No, Draco . . . we can’t.”  Harry replied, pushing at Draco’s shoulders, attempting to ease himself out from underneath the
other youth.  He wouldn’t hurt Draco, not like this.  He couldn’t.

Draco shuddered, pressing himself closer to Harry’s body.  “Please, help me?”  He pleaded, grasping at Harry’s arms with
trembling hands.  “Please, before it’s too late?”  He kissed Harry then, small little nips that sent shivers trailing up along his
throat with each touch of Draco’s warm lips.

“Draco . . .”  Harry groaned, fearing that he was losing control of this situation.  He couldn’t let himself be used like this, not
when Draco needed help.  This wasn’t right.

Draco pulled away then, moving back until he was staring deep into Harry’s eyes.  Harry blinked, his eyes widening as he saw
tears dripping along Draco’s pale cheeks, his eyes so full of emotion.  “If you don’t help me . . . I’ll have no other choice.”

It felt as if Harry had been hit by a bolt of lightning . . . those words, they rang through his ears, bringing forth images of the
nightmares that he had been having.  Those were the exact same words that Draco had used in his dream, just moments before
he had jumped to his death.  Did that mean that Draco would kill himself if Harry didn’t agree to sleep with him?  No, that was
a little bit too much.  But then, why had he used those particular words?  It had to mean something.

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”  Harry said, once he was able to force the words to come forth.

Things were rapidly spiraling out of control.  Harry couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes, couldn’t stop himself from
seeing his vision replayed within those glimmering orbs.  Draco . . . dead, blood flowing around his body as his eyes stared
vacantly up at him . . . Harry didn’t want that dream to become a reality.  No, he couldn’t allow Draco to die.

“You won’t hurt me . . . you’ll be helping me.”  He said, grinding his hips down, bringing a gasp from Harry’s mouth at the
sensations that simple movement caused.  “If you don’t . . . I’ll find someone else, someone who won’t care about me.  Or I’ll
come back here when you’re not around . . . I have no other choice.  Please, take me, Harry?  I want you.”

He kissed Harry then, sucking on his bottom lip and slipping his tongue along Harry’s front teeth.  The sensations made Harry
shudder, his body reacting against his better judgement.  He didn’t want to hurt Draco . . . but if Draco was just going to go
out and find someone else, or worse to come back to the tower and try suicide again, then Harry didn’t have many options.

In an instant, he made his decision, knowing that there would be no turning back from this point.  If Draco was so dead set on
doing this, then Harry would oblige, if only to try and shield Draco from even more suffering . . . no one else knew of the
suicide attempt, they couldn’t comfort him, or offer him help in this.  At the very least, Harry could offer some solace when
Draco would need it.

Trembling, Harry wrapped his arms around Draco’s body, hesitantly pulling him closer.  He opened his mouth to Draco's hot
tongue, letting his eyes flutter shut as the other youth kissed him deeply.  His hands were sweating even in the frigid air as he
slid them along Draco’s clothed body, stilling his hands at Draco’s hips.

“Yes . . . please.”  Draco panted, pressing tiny kisses along Harry’s throat.

“No, not here.”  Harry whispered, clenching his fingers against Draco’s hips.  He frowned as a deep sadness entered Draco’s
eyes, knowing that Draco was taking his words in the worst possible way.  It wasn’t as if Harry wanted to stop completely . .
. he simply didn’t want to do it here, in the middle of a snowstorm.  “Let’s get inside . . . someplace warmer.”

A small smile spread across Draco’s face.  He nodded.  “Yes.  I don’t like being cold.”  He agreed, rising from Harry’s lap and
helping him up as well.  “Where will we go?”

Harry pondered that for a moment, considering his options.  Well . . . the Gryffindor dorm would be empty for a while.  
Everyone was at the Halloween Ball and would be for a few hours at least.  It would be the perfect place.  “Come on.”  Harry
smirked, taking Draco by the hand and leading him away.


Draco stayed silent as Harry led him through the silent, empty halls.  He didn’t know where the young Gryffindor was taking
him, but he hoped that it would be a secluded place.  The prospect of fucking in the halls . . . although intriguing . . . was not
something that Draco wanted to do at the moment.  It wasn’t until he found himself facing a portrait of a rotund woman that
Draco realized where Harry was taking him.

“The Gryffindor dorm?”  He questioned.  He had never been here before, hadn’t known where it was located to begin with . . .
only that a large woman guarded the entrance.

“Don’t worry . . . it’s quite safe and private.  Everyone’s at the ball tonight, probably won’t be back for hours.”  Harry replied.

“A Slytherin?  You’ve got to be kidding me.”  The woman in the painting sneered.  “You expect me to allow a Slytherin into the

Harry sighed and glared at the fat lady.  “I don’t recall ever hearing that guests from other houses weren’t allowed in
dormitories.”  He replied calmly.

The fat lady rolled her eyes.  “Fine, suit yourself.  Password?”

“Argenteus.”  Harry said with a smirk.  A moment later, the portrait swung open to reveal the entrance to the dormitory and
Harry once again led Draco along, taking his hand as they entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

It was nice . . . had quite a homey feel to it.  The chairs looked comfortable, the fire roaring in the hearth seemed warm and
inviting.  He wouldn’t mind staying here for a while.  Harry allowed him time to look around a bit, then again took the lead.  
Draco followed the handsome youth up a flight of stairs.  A smile came to his face the moment he saw the beds.  He easily
found the bed that belonged to Harry.  Then he took a seat, leaning back on his elbows as he watched the other young man.

Harry took his wand from his robes, casting a silencing and sealing charm on the room.  He obviously didn’t want the two of
them to be disturbed . . . a pleasing thought to Draco.  Draco smiled as he watched Harry’s eyes turn to him.  He rose to his
feet again, easily removing his robes and tossing them onto a neighboring bed.  Then he began on the buttons on his shirt,
flipping them open one by one and reveling in the mere idea of Harry Potter watching his every move.  It was quite an
invigorating feeling.

He untucked the garment from his trousers.  As he shrugged out of the shirt, Harry finally approached him.  Harry set his wand
aside, hastily removing his own robes and letting them drop to the floor below him.  He swept his hands over Draco’s chest
and Draco gasped, the warmth in those palms spreading through him, the feel of Harry’s hands making him shiver in

Things progressed quickly from there.  Draco wasn’t one for patience, especially not now.  He had to do this, had to go
through with it before he chickened out.  He wouldn’t allow his body to be used by Voldemort, to give the Dark Lord what he
truly wanted.  Despite what most people thought, Draco did not want to become a Death Eater . . . and this particular
assignment that had been forced upon him was not acceptable to his own mind.  He simply could not allow it to happen and
would do anything within his own power to prevent it, even going so far as to have sex with the first person that came along.  
He was thankful that person had been Harry Potter . . . if only because Draco was sure that the dark-haired youth would not
intentionally cause him harm.

The two of them stripped and fell into bed, caressing and stroking each other.  Tongues dueled for supremacy while hands
searched out sensitive places, while their bodies writhed in blissful passion against one another.  Harry literally covered Draco’s
pale body in kisses, his hot tongue going in places that Draco knew he would be blushing about later.

Draco was reduced to begging for attention before Harry went that final step.  With the use of his wand and a whispered spell,
Draco was ready and Harry’s thick length strove into his body, deliciously plunging inward with an agonizingly slow pace.  It
was all Draco could do to keep himself from pushing against it, from forcing himself to take it in too fast.

Covered with sweat and panting in time with their racing heartbeats, the two of them began to move in a dance older than time
itself.  Draco clawed at Harry’s back, trying to pull him closer, to bring him further inside of him . . . he wanted more, ached
for completion of this glorious act.  His first time would be a treasured memory now, thanks to Harry . . . it wouldn’t be some
nightmarish landscape of Voldemort’s doing.  He would relish this moment for as long as he lived . . . even if that might not be
for too much longer.  Voldemort was bound to be displeased with this.

Pushing aside all thought, Draco arched against Harry’s strong body time and again, meeting each drive of the Gryffindor's
shaft into his passage.  He wanted more, wanted it all.  Breathing heavily, he reached his hand between their sweat-covered
bodies, taking his own length in hand and pumping even as Harry’s pace increased.  Thrusting, taking and giving pleasure,
Harry was a God in bed, his every move perfect, his thrusts hitting in just the right spot over and over again, quickly sending
Draco into a fervor.

Harry’s hand joined his, stroking his throbbing cock fast and rough, just as he sent his own length deeper and harder into
Draco’s willing body.  It took no more than mere seconds for Draco to scream out his passion, hot sticky semen expelling
from his shaft as he convulsed from pure pleasure.  Harry thrust once, twice more and stilled, his cock buried deep inside of
Draco as he filled the blonde with his seed.

It was done . . . Draco was content now.  Harry eased out of his passage, collapsing to one side of Draco.  The Slytherin
rolled over onto his side and Harry spooned up along behind him.  Nothing was said between them . . . nothing needed to be
said.  The only sounds were the gasping pants as they tried to regain their breath.  Harry’s arms slowly came around Draco’s
body, as if he was afraid that Draco would push him away now.  Draco merely smiled, laying his hands against Harry’s arms,
letting himself linger in this embrace if only for a little while.

This would never happen again.  He knew it . . . Harry probably knew it too.  This had been a one night stand and that was it.  
Draco couldn’t afford to allow Harry into his life, not now.  Come Christmas, Draco would have to stand before Lord
Voldemort . . . there would be no return to Hogwarts, he was certain of it.  Because of tonight, Draco had forfeited his own
life.  Lord Voldemort would execute him for this . . . his plans had been ruined.  Draco smiled though.  He was glad that the
spell would never be completed . . . he was happy about it.  He could not be used in Voldemort’s plans now . . . he was free
and he was happy for it, even if it would cost him his life.

To Be Continued . . .