Title: Accio Draco!

Author: Dark Phoenix

Summary: Harry just wanted to be near his boyfriend. How was he supposed to know what would happen next? Drarry relationship fluff, inspired by a drawing by Cremebunny.

Pairings: Established Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

Warnings: Mild language and naked Draco.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.

Notes: For the purposes of this story, Summoning works more like Apparating; otherwise that would be very painful for poor Draco! Also, check out Cremebunny at Deviant Art for the "Chibi Drarry - Accio!" drawing.

Accio Draco!

It was a particularly cold day in mid-January. The wind blew sharply through the trees and around the little cottage at the edge of the forest. Snow was piled high on either side of the walkway. Inside, however, it was cozy and warm, full of the comforting smells of things baking in the kitchen.

It was the perfect kind of weather for a nice, steaming hot shower. Draco slipped off his bathrobe and hung it neatly on its hook before stepping into the waiting shower. He let out a contented sigh as the piping hot water ran over his body, causing his creamy, white skin to turn bright pink in a matter of minutes. It had been just after nine in the morning when he'd stepped in, he noted as he lathered his body from head to toe. He should have plenty of time to shower undisturbed.

He should have, he thought, but he still felt a bit paranoid the entire time.

He shampooed his hair, then stood under the hot spray for a few minutes, letting the suds and water run freely down his face and body. His shower was almost done, and he was starting to feel relieved when he felt an all too familiar tugging.

Draco sighed, and his grip tightened on the washcloth in his hand. Not again, he thought.

He'd really thought he'd put an end to Harry Summoning him from the shower. After last time, he hadn't expected it to happen again. But here he was, dematerializing, about to end up who knows where.

It had been a shock to everyone when Harry and Draco had started dating. After the war, they'd returned to complete their education at Hogwarts, like most of the other students in their year. Things had been different that year. Harry had returned his wand, and the two of them had first become friends, and then, upon realizing the true nature of their feelings for one another, had begun to fall in love. Immediately after graduation, they'd moved into the little cottage, and after a year and a half of living together, they were more in love than ever.

Of course, they still had plenty of fights, but they were a lot less mean-spirited than during their Hogwarts days, and most often ended in the bedroom. And then there was the Summoning.

Draco had to admit it was rather endearing that Harry wanted to be around him so much, but he had a bad habit of Summoning Draco while he was in the shower. So far, it had only happened when they were alone in the cottage, but it was rather uncomfortable and irritating to be suddenly yanked from a nice hot shower only to find himself in some strange part of the house with Harry, naked and dripping wet.

He half suspected Harry was doing it on purpose, suspicions that had been all but confirmed when he'd gotten Harry to agree to leave him alone between nine and ten o'clock in the morning, and the Summoning hadn't stopped.

But he'd thought he'd finally gotten through to Harry the last time. That time, he'd made Harry sleep on the couch and then pranced around the house in leather trousers and a half-buttoned silk shirt, ignoring Harry's pathetic pleas for forgiveness, for three whole days before he'd finally relented and allowed Harry back in his bed. Since then, he hadn't been Summoned from the shower for over two months, and he'd finally thought it was over. Which was a relief, actually, because those three days of not allowing Harry to touch him had been torture.

And now, here he was, rematerializing in the kitchen with shampoo running in his eyes, still trying to glare fiercely at Harry. Which was challenging when he was standing there completely nude, modestly holding the washcloth in front of himself and shivering as the cooler air of the kitchen hit his wet skin. Harry didn't help by pointedly lowering his gaze to the washcloth and smirking.

"Not again," Draco complained. "I really thought you'd learned your lesson last time, Harry," he said with as much dignity as possible.

"Apparently not," Harry said lazily, leaning against the counter and letting his eyes roam freely over Draco's nakedness.

Water was still streaming down Draco's body and pooling on the floor at his feet as he glared at Harry. He didn't care. It was Harry's fault anyway.

"Okay, I'm going," he said finally, turning toward the stairs.

Harry's face crumpled. "No," he protested, moving forward and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, not seeming to care that he was getting wet. "Just five more minutes. I missed you."

Draco let out a groan as he felt his resolve falter. Harry was such a sap, and Draco always let it get to him. "Fine," he grumbled.

Harry hugged him, then loosened his grip and let his hands caress Draco's bare body. He shivered despite himself.

"You're such an arsehole," he said softly into Harry's ear. "This time, I'll make you wait a whole week."

Harry pulled back and stared into Draco's eyes with horror, and something else Draco couldn't quite place. "Not a whole week," he pleaded. The something else intensified, and it seemed to Draco that it could have been amusement. No, that couldn't be right. How could Harry be amused after the way he'd begged and pleaded and debased himself the last time? Unless . . . unless he'd been faking it somehow. Draco frowned. Something didn't add up here.

"Hello, hello!"

Draco let out an undignified yelp at the interruption and pressed himself closer to Harry. He pulled the folds of Harry's robes around himself as much as he could, grateful that Harry had decided to wear robes that day instead of Muggle clothes.

"What's going on here?" the voice continued. Draco peeked around Harry's side to see Ron, Hermione, and George entering the kitchen. George wiggled his eyebrows at them suggestively.

Harry started to open his mouth, but Draco beat him to it.

"This arsehole thinks it's funny to Summon me while I'm in the shower," he said huffily.

The three of them laughed. Draco gave them a sour look. He really hadn't expected any more from them.

Harry started to step towards his friends, but Draco let out a furious squawk and held him fast. "Don't you dare move away from me, you prat!" he howled.

The others laughed again. "So, Harry, did you forget we were coming over, or is this free entertainment?" Ron wanted to know.

Draco buried his burning face in Harry's robes. "Dammit, Harry, would you Summon my robes already?"

Harry was laughing, but he complied, looking like he'd already resigned himself to his fate. Draco quickly dressed and hurried back to the bathroom to rinse out his hair.

"I hope it was worth it, Harry," he called behind him in what he hoped was a menacing tone as he left.

When he rejoined the others, he was dressed in his leather trousers once again. He smirked at the longing look on Harry's face and sashayed close by him on his way through the sitting room, slapping Harry's hand hard when it reached out to touch him. Look what you can't have, he thought mockingly as he sat in a chair on the other side of the room. After artfully arranging himself on the chair, he settled back, periodically sending murderous glares in Harry's direction for the rest of the afternoon. Harry, for his part, looked suitably chastened, but as Draco pointedly threw Harry's pillow at him at the door of their bedroom later that night, he could swear he saw that flash of amusement once more.

He frowned as he curled up in the bed alone. What did it mean? He wondered how Harry could possibly be amused by the prospect of being cut off for a whole week. Had Harry been exaggerating the effect it had had on him so that Draco could forgive him while still feeling like he had won? No, that was ridiculous, Draco decided. Three days was a long time to withhold sex from someone — wasn't it? It certainly had been for him. He shook his head, deciding that he must have imagined the whole thing. It was better than the alternative — the idea that Harry could outlast him, and worse, if Harry could outlast him, then the Summoning would never end.

He rolled over, staring up at the ceiling in agitation. "Damn you, Harry," he cursed. "How would you like it if—"

Draco blinked. An idea had just occured to him. He sat up, thinking fast.

"Yes," he breathed. "It's perfect." He jumped out of bed and turned the lights back on, hurrying over to the calendar on the wall. He saw that they'd invited the Weasleys over for brunch next week. Draco's face broke into a grin and he let out a fiendish giggle. He very nearly started rubbing his palms together with glee as the plan took shape in his mind. Tomorrow, he would forgive Harry — no use torturing himself — and then, next week, just before the Weasleys came over, he'd somehow get Harry to take a shower, and then—

Draco turned the lights off and climbed back into bed, laughing with delight. "Perfect," he said to himself. "This is war, Harry!"

fin

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