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[ teahouse ] linneus surprise
darling, i'll be your werewolf
Conception of Dreams 
23rd-Feb-2013 10:03 pm
Title: The Conception of Dreams
Author: freakingcrups
Artist: kenshincha
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Draco, past Harry/Justin.
Word Count: 59,391 words.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Possessive!Draco, rimming, graphic sex, cliché creature story, jealous young men, mpreg, Animalistic behaviour, there are mentions of past Harry/Justin Finch-Fletchley, someone trying to kill Harry (But really, does that surprise you? :P).
Summary: Waking up naked in Malfoy's bed without the memory of what happened the night before is the least of Harry's problems. Malfoy is an Incubus and Harry is his mate and that one night comes with consequences: a conception. Now Harry has to get to know Malfoy on a deadline, while dealing with Death Eater threats. Sounds like another exciting year at Hogwarts for Harry Potter.
Notes (if applicable): Oh gosh, there are so many people that have stuck with me through this fic. I want to thank kitty_fic for forcing me to write when I didn’t have the muse to. She’s been holding my hand a lot lately and I wouldn’t have finished this story without her. And thank you to my darling Alex for proofing this story. It’s a lot of time out of her day and it means the world to me. singlemomsummer also helped me a lot when this project. She proof read the beginning for me. Thank you so much to both of you for all your hard work. Any further mistakes are my own. Honestly, I’m a bit worried because this is the longest fanfiction I have ever written. I hope at least one person enjoys it!
Link to master art post: Art Post (TBA)

Harry dipped in and out of consciousness. As he slowly woke from a deep sleep, he resisted the urge to fall straight back into the dream that he had been dragged out of. His eyelids fluttered and he groaned as the sounds of a light snore echoed through the room. An arm circled his stomach and held his back flush against a slim but hard chest.

He smiled as he finally managed to shake off sleep enough to open his heavy eyelids. The room was still dark, but a candle flickered on the wall beside the bed. He frowned at the darkness of the dormitory. Gryffindor had windows and if it was morning, which he assumed it was, light usually flickered through the glass from the rising sun. However there were no windows to be seen in this room. Even Hufflepuff had windows to look out of.

“Justin?” Harry whispered quietly at the man behind him. Justin was always a deep sleeper, which never really helped Harry when he needed him to release his tight hold. “Justin,” he tried again. He laid a hand on the long arm and shook it. Still he received no response. He growled and jerked his arm back, elbowing the Hufflepuff in the chest.

The man beside him groaned in pain and the arm unwound itself enough for Harry to shift on his back. He opened his mouth to ask Justin where they were but paused at the sight of the man’s face. It wasn’t Justin at all.

“Malfoy?” Harry whispered in shock.

Malfoy hadn’t woken up from the hit, but he sleepily ran a hand over his ribs, right on the spot where Harry had just elbowed him.

It was then that Harry noticed that Draco Malfoy was not only lying beside him shirtless, but naked as well. He couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering down the slim chest — marked with long, thin scars and littered with light coloured hair — and down past his bellybutton, eyes following the shadow of hair that trailed to his cock. His pubic hair wasn’t the platinum blond that Harry expected it to be. Instead, it was a lighter blond, a finer colour, and trimmed. The hair encased a cock that definitely caught Harry’s awareness. Even soft, it was bloody large.

Eyes widening at the realization of not only where he was, but the fact that he was currently in the same state of undress and becoming aroused at the view in front of him, he let out a series of swear words before leaping out of bed. His foot tangled in the mass of blankets as he tried to extract himself from the mattress, causing him to trip and fall on the ground with a loud thump.

“Hm, what?”

Harry froze at the sound of Malfoy’s voice and silently cursed himself for his stupid behaviour. He clenched his eyes shut, praying that the other man would just go back to sleep. It would make this whole situation that much easier. Harry knew, however, that things hardly ever worked in his favour.

Malfoy’s head peered over the mattress. He stared down at Harry and raised an eyebrow. His hair was rumpled, a sight that Harry had never seen before.


“Malfoy.” Harry nodded. He resisted the urge to scream and run from the room. Having the other man’s eyes roam his naked body was awkward.


“Where are my clothes?” Harry finally snapped. His arse hurt and not just because he fell out of the bed. He couldn’t even remember how he got into bed with Malfoy to start with. “Where the hell are we? And how the hell did this happen? Malfoy?”

Malfoy looked around the room, before his grey eyes returned to look at Harry. He looked as shocked as Harry felt. His mouth opened and closed and after a few moments, his eyes widened. “You have to be kidding me.”

“Malfoy! Concentrate, you git.” Harry rose to his feet and willed himself to have confidence. He didn’t want Malfoy to see him with a weakness, no matter how embarrassed he was while standing naked in front of him. Malfoy didn’t say anything though. He looked like a fish out of water and it annoyed Harry. Sighing, he walked around the other side of bed where he found clothing. He didn’t know whose it was, but he didn’t care either. Slipping on the pants without underwear, he grabbed the shirt next. The shirt was definitely Malfoy’s, but with his own missing, he didn’t let it worry him.

“You’re in the Slytherin dorms,” Malfoy finally spoke. He swallowed. “Potter, this…”

“This was a mistake, Malfoy. I don’t know how it happened. Hell, I don’t even remember last night. The only thing I remember was going for a walk. I was supposed to meet up with Justin.” Harry shrugged.

“Justin?” Malfoy sneered, “Justin Finch-Fletchley? The Mudblood?”

Harry growled angrily and threw himself at Malfoy. He grabbed him around the neck and pushed him onto the bed, cutting off his air. Sitting on Malfoy’s belly, he leaned forward so their faces were inches apart. The other man didn’t struggle much, but his face had grown a shade paler from lack of air.

“Don’t you dare insult him! You have no right, no right at all. You may have changed sides at the last moment, Malfoy, and you may have saved my life at the manor, but don’t you dare act like you are above us. You’ve fallen, Malfoy, you’ve fallen very far off your social ladder.”

Finally, he released Malfoy’s windpipe so the blond could breathe in a rush of air greedily. Harry bit his lip; the urge to apologize on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t know what it was about the Slytherin, but Malfoy always seems to rub him up the wrong way.

As Harry was about to move, Malfoy grabbed his arms tightly; very tightly. He frowned as he tried to shake the grip off, but found that he couldn’t move his arms at all. Malfoy was strong.

“Let me go, Malfoy,” Harry hissed, baring his teeth in anger; but Malfoy didn’t listen to him. His grip only tightened before his hips thrust up. Something poked Harry in the back of his arse and he blushed, immediately realising what it was. Malfoy was hard. “Oh Merlin!”

And then Malfoy released him and Harry fell to the side, falling out of the bed and to the ground with another thump. He picked himself up quicker this time and stepped back. Malfoy was hard and he had no shame about Harry seeing or feeling it. He stared at Harry with his sharp grey eyes, watching him intently as though he was waiting for Harry to make his move.

Harry didn’t make the move that he anticipated Malfoy wanted. Instead he frowned and glanced down at a wand that lay on the floor. It was his wand. He picked it up and took two steps back, away from the blond.

“I don’t know what we did, Malfoy, but if you tell anyone, I’ll hex you into oblivion.”

Malfoy’s face changed. His blank features morphed into a sneer. “As if I would tell anyone I fucked your sorry arse, Potter.”

Harry glared. “We didn’t shag, Malfoy.”

“Right.” Malfoy snorted and stood from the bed. Harry couldn’t help the blush that rose on his cheeks. He had only ever been with Justin and Justin had nothing on Malfoy. He took a few steps back as the other man approached him. Malfoy raised a thin, blond eyebrow and smirked. “Scared, Potter?”

“You wish,” Harry barked with sarcastic laughter. “I just don’t want to catch anything.”

Malfoy frowned, his eyebrows furrowed and he crossed his arms. “Catch anything? What are you going on about?”

Harry chose to roll his eyes. “You know? STDs?”

Malfoy’s frown deepened and he waved his hand. “Whatever that is, Potter. Now get out of my room, it stinks like you; tainted.” The sneer was back on his face and it was worse than before. Harry wondered if this was how Malfoy took rejection. He had just basically propositioned him for another round, after all. Harry couldn’t even comprehend that he had slept with him in the first place. He didn’t drink anything last night, so he couldn’t have been drunk. Maybe he was poisoned somehow. A love potion? It couldn’t have been.

“Malfoy, how did this happen last night?” Harry asked. The question was nagging at him and he needed answers.

Malfoy snorted and his lips curled into a sneer. “You wanted me, Potter. You were like a Crup in heat.”

Harry blushed. He felt the anger in the pit of his stomach building up once more. He glared at Malfoy fiercely and took a step forward, before faltering. Malfoy would be ready for an attack this time. He looked at his wand and shook his head. Malfoy wasn’t worth it. “Whatever, you dumb git.”

Harry spun on his heel and stormed out of the dormitory. It was the eighth year boy’s dormitory, which is why Malfoy was in there in the first place obviously. He guessed it was breakfast time, considering that Zabini and Nott were not in there as well. But it made Harry wonder if the boys saw him this morning. The curtains were not closed, which gave them the opportunity to see Harry Potter in Draco Malfoy’s bed and spread the word. He groaned at the thought of everyone knowing that he’d slept with Malfoy. Ron would kill him.

He only crossed one Slytherin, a fourth year by the looks of him, but Harry managed to slip out behind him. The Slytherin was too busy reading a book beside the fireplace to care. As soon as he escaped the Slytherin dungeons – ignoring the portrait who was insulting his ‘dirty’ blood – Harry ran to the Gryffindor Tower. He knew that he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Hermione, if she even knew that he had been gone in the first place. He passed a few Gryffindors, but they barely acknowledged him. He said the password and entered, making his way straight up to the eighth year boy’s dormitory. He grabbed clothes and a towel and swiftly made his way to the showers. After a quick, very hot shower, he dressed and steadily walked to the Great Hall.

Breakfast would nearly be over by the time he got there, but he wasn’t feeling hungry anyway. He was feeling….well; he really didn’t know what he was feeling. One usually didn’t wake up in the bed of his school rival and not remember the night before. It was completely out of character for Harry. He knew the only reason Hermione and Ron hadn’t come searching for him was because they would have assumed he was with Justin. He had many sleepovers with the Hufflepuff before and Hermione had learnt not to stay up all night worrying.


Harry turned and smiled when he saw Justin running towards him. He enveloped the Hufflepuff in a hug, but quickly took a step back when he heard the Great Hall doors open. The rustle of students moving grew louder.

Justin and Harry weren’t out of the closet, and they weren’t really planning on coming out any time soon. It had been an accident in discovering that Justin was gay, but once Harry outed himself to Justin, they chose to discover sexual experiences with each other. They weren’t romantically involved, although Justin had bought it up more than once.

“I was worried about you,” Justin spoke lowly as people started to move around them. “Hermione came to me and told me to tell you that you need to start leaving a note when you visit me. I didn’t understand at first and then I realized that she thought you were with me, but I didn’t say anything. I just told her I would.”

Harry sighed in relief. He grinned widely at Justin and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. “Thank you, Justin. I really appreciate it.”

Justin nodded. “Where were you anyway?” The tone of his voice grew serious and he stared at Harry with those big brown, doe eyes. Harry knew what was coming. He sighed.

“No, I didn’t hook up with someone else,” Harry lied. He licked his lips nervously and glanced around at the students.

“You don’t have to lie to me, Harry. I don’t mind if you did.” Justin smiled softly. Harry knew Justin wanted something real, someone to love and he hated that he couldn’t give the Hufflepuff what he wanted.

“I’m not, Justin.” He told himself that he was lying to Justin only because he shagged Malfoy, not because he shagged someone else. If it had been someone else, he may have just told the other man the truth.

Justin nodded slowly, but the hurt in his eyes told Harry that he didn’t quite believe him. He glanced over Harry’s shoulder and nodded his head towards that direction.

Harry turned and opened his arms up just in the right amount of time to catch Hermione in them. He laughed at her antics. She swatted his arm as she pulled back.

“Did Justin give you my message?” Hermione asked quickly, huffing as she crossed her arms over her chest. Harry knew that he was in trouble.

“He did,” Harry admitted quietly, glancing behind her at Ron, pleading for support of this obvious onslaught of questions about to come. Ron just shrugged and grinned wickedly at him. His friend was going to be no support.

“Harry, what did I tell you? I told you to tell me when you stay with Justin. I told you. You know I worry,” Hermione admonished in a hushed voice. She kept her voice low enough so no one else could hear.

Harry sighed and nodded. “I know, Hermione, but I’m a big boy. I don’t know why you worry. Nobody is after me anymore.” He shrugged, only to receive a slap from his friend on the shoulder. His hand jerked up to the abused arm. “Hey! What was that for?”

“Harry, just because Voldemort is dead, that doesn’t mean that the Death Eaters won’t come after you for revenge. You killed their master. Can you please have more common sense?” She huffed in exasperation and spun on her heel to look at her boyfriend. “Ronald, a little back up please?”

Ron looked surprise at the sudden attention. He cleared his throat and pointed at Harry in a very ‘stern’ manner. “Yes Harry, that was very wrong of you. Don’t go and get shagged again.”

Harry couldn’t help the laughter that rumbled in his chest at Ron’s words. Ron grinned along with him, while Justin, who had moved up to stand beside Harry, chuckled quietly. Hermione flushed and looked at Harry. “I’m not saying you can’t have sexual intercourse. You should, I mean, it’s healthy and …” She broke off, her blush only growing fiercer. “Oh, forget I said anything. Have you had something to eat?”

Harry was impressed at her change of topic. “Nope,” he admitted quietly, “I was caught up in Justin’s bed until the rest of the boys left the dorm.” It was strange how smoothly the lie came out of his mouth. He saw Justin frown at him and he prayed that he wouldn’t say anything.

And he didn’t, much to Harry’s relief.

“I have to go,” Justin said loudly. He smiled at Hermione and Ron and said his goodbyes. He glanced at Harry, and with a small smile he walked away.

“You should start something with him, Harry,” Hermione whispered with a smile on her face, “Like go on dates with him, he really likes you.”

Harry watched Justin’s retreating back and frowned. He shook his head and stared at Hermione. “No, Justin and I are just friends,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Hermione sent him an indescribable look. Harry felt uncomfortable under it.

“Ron,” Hermione glanced at her boyfriend, “I forgot my book in the Great Hall, could you please go get it?”

Ron frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but the look that she gave him stopped him from saying anything. He nodded hastily, sent Harry a look of sympathy, before he scampered back towards the Great Hall.

“Want to tell me where you were last night, Harry?” Hermione bluntly asked as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I am not stupid and I’m insulted to think that you actually thought you could lie to me. Justin had no idea where you were, did he?”

Harry sighed. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. He should have known that his best friend would have caught on. She was the smartest witch in their year for a reason. “No, he didn’t.”

Hermione nodded with satisfaction. “Where were you then? I was worried sick. Ron and I couldn’t—” She cut herself off. A blush formed on her face and she cleared her throat. “What I meant to say was that I was worrying all night. So where were you?” Her voice grew harder, leaving no room for arguments.

Harry shrugged languidly and glanced around the hallway. It was quickly emptying as most of the students headed off to class. Ron and Harry had a spare period, but Hermione didn’t and he hoped she would leave the topic alone and rush off to her next class. “I slept in someone else’s bed,” he admitted ashamedly.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. She pulled her backpack around her shoulder so it hung on the side. She pulled out a folded newspaper and before he could avoid it, she slammed the Daily Prophet against his head.

“Ow!” He cried out, rubbing the part of his forehead that was now tender. It wasn’t a soft hit. She was clearly in an abusive mood today.

“What about poor Justin?” She continued in the same shocked voice as before.


“Likes you a lot! Is that the problem? As soon as someone shows interest, you run to someone else? You did push Cho away and Ginny too!” Hermione huffed and slipped the paper back in her bag. She cocked her head to the side and impatiently waited for an answer.

Harry hesitated. He glanced over her shoulder and saw that Ron was still nowhere in sight. He was smart for keeping away. “Ginny and Cho are girls. They don’t count. You know I’m gay.”

“And so is Justin! If I remember correctly, you are shagging him!”

Harry held up a finger and smiled wickedly. “Well to be more precise, he’s shagging me.” He enjoyed the way Hermione’s eyes widened. The blush that stained her cheeks deepened and she splayed her hands over her face, hiding her obvious embarrassment.

“Oh my Merlin! Harry!”

Harry barked with laughter. He held his stomach as he doubled over. Ron chose the moment to turn up.

“You didn’t leave it in the Great Hall, ‘Mione. Did you have a look in your bag?” Ron asked, his brows furrowing as he stared at them carefully. “What’s so funny?”

Harry opened his mouth when he finally stopped laughing, but Hermione snapped, “Don’t you dare, Harry,” before she stormed passed him.

“Hermione? What happened?” Ron inquired.

Harry finally managed to cease laughing; however, small chuckles still escaped him. He wiped at his teary eyes. “I was just telling Hermione who did the shagging between Justin and I.”

Ron grimaced. “You don’t need to tell me, mate,” he muttered, his ears going red as he cleared his throat. “So, were you really in Fletchley’s bed last night?”

“Why would you ask that?” Harry frowned. He tightened his hold on his own bag and turned on his heel. They started to walk down the now empty corridor. His stomach rumbled, but he ignored it. He could just eat at lunch time.

“Hermione seems to think you weren’t. She said Justin seemed surprised when she mentioned you visiting him last night.” Ron flushed a vibrant red and reached up to scratch the back of his neck. It was sign that Ron was embarrassed about having the conversation. Harry appreciated that Ron was trying, but even he found that talking to his best friend about his sex life awkward. Just as awkward as Ron telling him about Hermione and himself when they shagged, which was rare much to Harry’s relief. “I mean, are you sleeping with some random bloke or something?

Harry felt his own cheeks flush. “Ron, do you really want to talk about this?”

“Not really,” Ron answered quickly, “but I mean…if you want to talk.”

“I don’t,” Harry said with a smile.

“Oh thank Merlin we didn’t have to go through that,” Ron laughed. “Hermione told me I had to try. But now I can just tell her that you didn’t want to talk about it. Bloody insane, she is. She wants you to get with Justin. She acts as if she is the one that has a crush on him.” He lowered his voice to mutter the next part, “bloody women.”

Harry chortled in laughter. “Why do you think I’m gay?”


A week. It had been a whole bloody week since Harry had been anywhere near Malfoy. Not that he was complaining. He didn’t really want to face him after what happened, but that didn’t mean that Harry didn’t find it strange. Every time Malfoy saw him, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. It annoyed Harry. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like the fact that the other man was avoiding him. No matter how embarrassed Malfoy had been before – like the time fake Moody turned him into a ferret – he had never avoided Harry.

Hermione and Ron were starting to notice it too. Hermione had commented about Malfoy’s strange behaviour, but Harry had only shrugged it off, claiming that Malfoy had been acting weird since the start of eighth year. And it was true. Since the beginning, he never said a word to Harry and his friends. There were nods of acknowledgement, but not one insult had left Malfoy’s mouth. Hermione had said that he was improving and that just maybe, one day they could be acquaintances. Ron and Harry hadn’t liked that idea.

Just an hour before, Malfoy had entered the same corridor as Harry. He had seen him and turned, exiting the same way he entered it. It irked Harry.


Harry raised his head. “What?”

“Have you been listening to anything we’ve been saying?” Hermione asked.

“Not really,” He answered truthfully with a shrug of his shoulders. It was Sunday and many of the students were outside, enjoying the outdoors rather than being stuck behind the walls. Harry and Ron were trapped with Hermione in the corridor outside of the library. It was empty, causing their voices to echo.

“Have you even started the three scroll essay that Professor Slughorn assigned to us?” Hermione questioned as she gripped the books in her arms tighter. She was holding three big, thick books, while Ron had been made to hold another four. Harry had no idea when she actually had the time to read them.

“No?” Harry dug his hands in his pockets. “What was it about?”

“Were you even listening in class on Friday?” Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head. “It was about the properties of the Beautification Potion.”

Ron sent Harry a pitying look.

“I forgot,” Harry tried to explain. He knew it wouldn’t do much good. He couldn’t tell Hermione what he constantly thinking about, because it would only create more questions. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips disapprovingly.

“I can’t—”

Harry didn’t finish. He was grabbed from behind and before he could comprehend what was happening, he was spun around to face a very dishevelled looking Malfoy. He should have yelled at him, do something, but he couldn’t. Something inside of him purred at being touched by the other man. He heard shouts from behind him, but they felt distanced. And then he was spun again and he reached out to splay his hands on the cold stone wall of the corridor. His back was bent, his arse was stuck out and he purred again, actually purred in an attempt to be touched. He pushed his arse back, begging for it.

Hermione gasped at the sight of her best friend. She took a step forward, only to be held back by Ron, whose eyes had widened in disbelief.

“Malfoy is a…” He trailed off, choking. “Hermione, go get McGonagall, quick.”

“Ron – ”

“Don’t argue with me, Hermione. Just bloody trust me.”

And Hermione did. She turned and ran.

Ron swallowed and took a step forward. It was slow and measured, but even the small step earned him a growl that made him jump back. Malfoy stared at him, his eyes a liquid silver, before he turned to his mate. He stood behind Harry – who was bent over, his hands flat against the wall – and ground his crotch against his arse.

“Bloody hell,” Ron hissed, unsure what to do. He knew an Incubus when he saw one, but there hadn’t been a known one in at least two hundred years. His mother had always warned him, always told him stories about Incubi, but he never thought that he’d actually see one; and Malfoy, no less. And Harry, dear Merlin, Harry was Malfoy’s mate.

“Harry?” He tried taking another small step forward.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Weasley,” came a sneer from his right.

Ron’s head spun and he frowned at a portrait of Professor Snape. Well technically it wasn’t his portrait, but he had hijacked it from a very angry Scottish woman, who hissed and screeched at him. Her screeching was ignored.

“What do we do?” He asked. He hadn’t talked to Snape’s portrait once since he had arrived back at Hogwarts, and he hadn’t planned to. Even if he had been on their side, he still hated the git.

“Nothing, you imbecile,” Snape snapped, “Unless you don’t want your hands.”

“Giant git,” Ron muttered, glaring at the portrait. “How do we get Malfoy away from Harry?”

Snape scoffed. “Are you that stupid? Just what do you know about Incubi, Weasley?”

Ron felt the tip of his ears grow hot. He glanced towards Harry and Malfoy and shuddered. Malfoy was literally frotting against Harry. His hips slammed forward, a visible hardness in his pants grinding against a very eager arse every time. His arm was wound around Harry and a hand splayed across Harry’s flat belly. He could just see Malfoy petting it. Ron wondered if Harry would forgive him for vomiting at the sight. He wasn’t homophobic, not with homosexuality being so common in the Wizarding World, he just didn’t want to see it happen in front of his own eyes.

“My mum told me the kid’s story when I was younger,” he said meekly, turning his gaze away from Harry and Malfoy to stare back at Snape. He felt green around the gills.

“Ah, your mother is a fool,” Snape snapped in return.

It made Ron flush and glare heatedly at the old headmaster. “Don’t insult my mother, Snape. At least she’s not dead.” He knew it was harsh, but he wouldn’t stand for the man insulting his mother; or any of his family for that matter.

“What is going on here?” A demanding voice asked from behind Ron. He turned and sighed in relief at the sight of Headmistress McGonagall and Hermione, who strode down the corridor. He thanked Merlin that no one else was here to see this sight.

“It seems, Minerva,” Snape started, his voice holding a condescending tone, “you have an Incubus and his mate in your school.”

McGonagall halted and her eyes widened as she glanced around Ron to stare at Malfoy and Harry. “Oh dear—” She took a few more steps forward, but stopped right beside Ron “—how did it reach this point?”

“My assumption is that Mr. Malfoy was trying to fight his urges, hence the situation.” Snape crossed his arms. The Scottish woman walked beside him and peered out of the portrait, but with a glare from Snape, she scampered off again, muttering nonsense.

“Malfoy is an Incubus? What do you mean fight his urges?” Hermione frowned as she took a step forward. Ron held out his arm so she wouldn’t get too close. He shook his head, signalling her to go no further.

“What? Have you not read a story on Incubi, you silly girl?”

“Severus!” McGonagall sent him a disapproving look. “You see, Miss Granger, when an Incubus bonds with his mate, he needs a sort of…sexual release once a week at the least. If they hold off for too long, they lose control of their urges. Which is why Mr. Malfoy is currently…frotting against Mr. Potter.”

Hermione swallowed audibly. “Bond? Do you mean they’ve already…?”

“Yes,” McGonagall nodded her head. “They’ve already been sexually involved.”

“Oh.” Hermione’s eyes widened as she stared at the two boys, lost in their own world. They didn’t seem to even realise that three people and a portrait were watching them closely.

“And it seems Mr. Malfoy has already impregnated Potter,” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, “Lucius will not be happy.”

McGonagall’s gaze darted to the portrait of Snape. “How do you know, Severus?” She questioned quickly. The corners of her mouth tightened.

“By the way Mr. Malfoy is holding Potter’s stomach. He is very careful in his touch. It means he can sense a child growing inside of his mate. Stupid children playing in an adult world.” Snape sniffed indignantly.

“Harry is an adult,” Ron snapped in defence of his best friend, but he knew it meant nothing. It wouldn’t help this situation.

Snape snorted.

Harry didn’t know what was happening around him. Someone was arguing, or more than one someone.
He didn’t know how many people were there, but he didn’t really care. All he cared about was the man that was behind him. He could feel Malfoy’s – no, Draco’s – hard erection pressing into his arse. Every time Draco jerked his hips forward, Harry would feel the hard member rub against him. It made him moan. He was hard too, but he never reached for himself. This was about satisfying Draco. This was about making sure that his Incubus had what he wanted.

Incubus. Harry didn’t know what that was, but he knew that that was what Draco was. And Harry was his mate. They were bonded and so Draco needed him. Draco needed his body, his touch. He purred when he felt nimble fingers slip under his untucked shirt and caress the skin of his stomach. Draco’s touch was soft, lingering, and it told Harry everything he needed to know. His mate would protect him and their child. His hand splayed across Harry’s taut skin of his stomach, where their child grew, and then the thrusting grew more frantic.

Draco’s spare hand rested on Harry’s hip and fingernails dug into his clothing. Harry couldn’t feel it on his skin, because of his belt, but he knew that Draco’s fingernails dug into the leather deeply. He knew that when he looked later, he would find permanent fingernail marks.

A growl rumbled behind him and he knew that his mate was about to come. He pushed his arse back, meeting every one of Draco’s rutting movements and then his mate’s growl grew louder.

“Ha-Harry,” was whispered again and again from Draco’s mouth before he came in his pants. Harry sighed in content when he realized his mate had found sexual release.

Before he could say anything, darkness surrounded him.

→→→ Chapter Two
[ harry potter ] drarry mine
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