Never Wake up a Sleeping Dragon

Zinnia says: For once I wanted to write a very short story. Here we go…

Story Description: Harry/Draco, 8th year. They've been silent but not ignorant towards each other since the summer but one autumn day things take a whole new direction. Draco thinks Potter's torturing him on purpose. Harry is pretty much as clueless as ever, and things soon reach a point where the going back might not be a possibility anymore.
The story goes on from autumn until Christmas, and the question is; how far will the boys go?

Quote: "You've stolen the last bits of my pride, Potter. Now I'm going to do the same to you." Draco whispered and enjoyed the panic flashing through Potter's eyes.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, J.K. Rowling does. No money was being made with this story.

Warnings: Forced sex, domination, gay sex, anything else you think you've found while you read this.

My beta for this story has been slytherinprincess8870, so I owe her a big thank you!
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Chapter 1 A Metaphor for fighting

Draco thought it was actually quite nice to be back in Hogwarts for his 7th year. Of course they were named 8th year students since they missed their seventh year in the war. He wished he could take back some of the things he once had thought and said aloud.
Especially when he'd thought Hogwarts was useless as a school. Right now he didn't care about his grades like he once had; now it was all just to enjoy the peaceful and normal atmosphere.
Some things had changed of course, it wasn't the same school it used to be but it still felt familiar and safe and that was exactly where Draco wanted to be.

Somewhere safe and familiar, with people around.

The biggest changes in his life were roughly said these: the deaths of his parents, losing the family fortunes, losing the value of their family name, losing his home and along with all these he had lost a part of his identity.

Also things with Potter had changed during the summer and Draco thought about it a lot.
Potter had testified in Draco's trial and right after gave him his wand back.

It was then when things changed. Or it might've started already the day when Potter saved him from the fire, Draco wasn't sure.

Draco thought about the trial day at least once every day. He felt like Potter had saved him from a future in Azkaban. It was all because of Potter Draco was here now, able to walk around the castle and plan his future.

Draco had no family. It felt strange and he tried very hard not to think about it. He tried to keep himself occupied with other thoughts. There would be no point in constant grieving when all he should do was to try to gather himself together and try to find a way to live his own life now.

Here he was and felt fairly normal; this could've just as well been any other year in Hogwarts, so normal everything felt. And yet, everything had already changed.

He had no money because the Ministry had taken it all away from him. He didn't know what kind of a future he could possibly have. He didn't really have anything. Not even friends.

Well, he shared a small room with Zabini this year and they had developed something, which was probably the closest to a friendship Draco could have. They got along, and left each other alone, didn't mind the other's business and spent some time together talking about things, which were unimportant.

With Potter… and this was what Draco thought about a lot. With Potter they had developed something which resembled a truce. It began on the day of the trial when Potter handed back Draco's wand.
Draco didn't say thank you.
They stood in the massive, empty corridor and stared at each other in silence.

When Potter reached out his hand, he had Draco's wand in it. Draco hesitated a little before reaching for it. Their fingers met. Potter's fingers were warm as Draco wrapped his fingers around the wand and silently pulled it away from Potter's.

The wand felt strange, unfamiliar but Draco didn't even look at the wand, he stared at Potter and tried to force himself to thank him. He couldn't. He was too embarrassed because Potter had saved him today, and this was the second time if you counted the fiendfyre.

So they stood there. Staring and neither of them said anything for a long while. Draco was too proud, the small words of a simple thanks were stuck somewhere inside his throat and he just couldn't get them out.

Potter's eyes were green and intense. Eventually Potter took one step back and looked in Draco's eyes for the one last time before turning around and slowly walking away.
Draco stared after him and it felt like a goodbye.

At that time Draco suddenly thought he might never see Potter again, maybe Potter thought the same about Draco. So Draco stood there, watched his back until the Gryffindor walked out of the big glass door, and into the busy street.

What surrounded Draco was an uncomfortable silence. Yes, the silence had been quite uncomfortable with Potter too but it had been an intense silence between two people who knew things had changed between them but didn't know how, and how they were supposed to act with each other now.
The silence which surrounded Draco after Potter had left made him feel suddenly very alone.
He was lonely. He swallowed and it was difficult, his throat felt constricted.

For one second he had a fleeting thought; he wanted to run after Potter and thank him, beg for forgiveness for everything Draco had ever done to him and ask where Potter was going, what Potter would do now, what plans he had for future…

He swallowed again. He felt lonely.

But it was all back then. Now he was in Hogwarts and surprise, Potter was there too. They shared almost all of their classes. They never talked to each other. Never.

Draco wasn't sure but it felt like a rule, almost like it was something they both had agreed on; let's not talk to each other, ever, and we'll be able to exist without getting in each other's way.

It suited Draco just fine. Because even though they never exchanged any words, they never ignored each other either. They stared into each other's eyes.

That felt good. It felt really good because so many other people ignored or pretended to be ignoring Draco completely. Students hated him. It was okay as long as they didn't beat him up every week, which they actually didn't so Draco was okay with it. He thought he might get used to the silence around him. Get used to the loneliness. Being an only child and all, it should be fairly easy.

Potter made him feel significant every time he looked in Draco's eyes. If Potter could see him, it meant Draco still existed. It was good. Draco didn't want to go back to the fighting they used to do but he actually missed having contact with people and sometimes when he was trying to sleep he thought about how nice it would be to have a proper fist fight with Potter.

To grab at the Gryffindor's dark hair, hear his furious grunts, feel Potter's fingers on his skin, scratching and peeling the skin off in some places, trying to land his fists anywhere on the boy's body, see the fire in the green eyes which would be narrowed in anger.
That would break the silence between them. Potter would concentrate completely on Draco during that moment.
The adrenaline, it would feel like nothing else existed, just the two of them, and right at that moment they would be each other's everything.

Draco had never been a person who enjoyed cuddling. He always felt suffocated when people (especially when Pansy had done that) wrapped themselves around his neck. It was awful.

Instead Draco liked the fighting better. It was as close as you could get someone.
It was intense, intimate and anything you did was okay because the rules were set by the two of you. You could bite, scratch and say anything you wanted to, it was okay.
It was almost like sex.
It was just as secretive; you couldn't get caught or you'd get into trouble, so this would stay between them, a secret.
There was the climax too; the moment when one of them had to give up.
Yes, it was that moment they always fought for, to gain the upper hand, make the other give up.

Sometimes the climax wasn't what they had expected it to be, sometimes it could be an unfamiliar curse with unexpected effects; one of them could be lying on a bathroom floor, covered in blood and bleeding, and the pain…

Yes, the climax could be something unexpected sometimes.

The fighting was good though. Draco missed it. He missed it a lot. The adrenaline raced in his blood every time he thought of Potter.

It was like his body was preparing him for an attack, an animalistic outburst of raw and suppressed emotions. The fire, Potter still carried that fire in his eyes – not the afterglow of the fiendfyre, but the nice, intense fire which told Draco Potter was prepared for it too.
It felt good. Potter gave him a lot of excitement when everyone else ignored him.
Potter was probably more important now than ever before.

He probably should've been worried when he was comparing fighting with Potter with having sex but he did feel like they had similar characteristics.
Draco even knew what Potter felt like on top of him. Yes, it was that one time in fifth, the quick fight before the teacher had spelled them apart. The whole class had been watching their fight and Draco couldn't remember what had been the trigger, had Draco said something about Sirius Black? It didn't matter. What mattered was how Potter's body had felt on top of him. His weight, warmth, the shapes of his arms and waist and his voice filled with sharp words, shouting in Draco's ear, leaving his ear ticklish the rest of the day.
Potter had been grabbing Draco's hair, keeping him in place to shout those words, and Draco's arms felt useless. He tried to push Potter away from the waist but all he could remember was how Potter's hip bones felt like under his palms.

He liked Potter's body. He really did.
It was okay, he had had plenty of time to accept it; only no-one else would ever find out about it.

Draco was gay, he accepted that too. If everyone knew, it didn't matter. There was no father or mother encouraging a Malfoy blood line – no, he could fuck wizards all he wanted to. Which he even didn't.

With this on his mind Draco sat in the back of the Potions class, Zabini was sitting next to him. Everything was as normal as it was possible for him right now. He would survive somehow.