Pixie Fingers

"Hold still."

"What for? You're not."

"Well, I've got to get it lined up, haven't I?"

"Hurry up about it, then, I haven't got all day."

"I suppose you've got something better to be doing?"

"Just get on with it."


"Is it in yet?"

"Bloody hell, Draco, can't you even tell?"


It was all over the castle in less time than it took for Neville to melt a cauldron, though Harry didn't know that until he got back to the Gryffindor common room and Seamus Finnigan laughed in his face.

"What?" he said, wiping at his chin. "Did I get some on me?"

That, it turned out, made Seamus laugh even harder.

Harry just pushed past him and up the stairs to the boys' dormitories. At first he'd been pleased that things at Hogwarts had been able to return to somewhat normal, after everything they'd all been through. Now he wished people could give him just a bit of respect, once in a while.

Clearly this was not that once in a while: the moment he stepped through the door, Ron smacked him in the shoulder. With his good arm, which really hurt.

"What? What did I do?"

"Malfoy, Harry? I know you owe him, but there are better ways to pay him back. Especially if--" And he snickered.

"What are you talking about, Ron?"

Ron just snickered again. "Look, Harry, it's not the end of the world. I'm sure loads of blokes must have a small cock, and they get on all right--"


"Shame about how it got out. But I'm sure people will stop talking about it in a week or two. Maybe a month."

Harry felt hot, then dizzy, then very, very cold. "Wait, stop, wait. What are you talking about? I've never shagged Malfoy. And my cock's not small!"

"They heard you Harry," he said, grabbing Harry's sleeve and lowering his voice. "In the Potions classroom. What happened, did you forget to do a silencing charm?"

"Ron! We were brewing a potion!"

"That's not what Susan heard."

"Susan's a busybody who hasn't got anything better to do now that the war's ended than listen at closed doors. We were doing our potions assignment, Ron. That's all."

"Sure, Harry, whatever you say."


"This is your fault," hissed Harry as he passed Draco outside of Transfiguration. "If you hadn't insisted we meet when you wanted--"

"My fault? You think I wanted people thinking I let you bugger me?"

"You think that's so bad?" scoffed Harry. "Nobody thinks your prick's the size of a pixie's finger."

"Your prick probably is the size of a pixie's finger. As if I'd let you put that in me."

"As if you would be my first shag anyhow," Harry shot back. "You're probably rubbish."

"Sod off, Potter."

Harry was only too happy to.


It didn't get any better. Even students from the lower years -- even first years -- would whisper and snicker when Harry walked by. People who two months ago had been quivering with fear at the sight of him, who had wet their robes when he lifted his wand and gone scurrying in the opposite direction.

They were laughing at him.

"It could be worse," said Hermione, linking her arm with his.


"It... could be true?" she offered. "It isn't, is it?"


"Well, I did want to be sure," she went on. "I'm sure Malfoy had other reasons to say what he did--"

"Hermione, I didn't have sex with Malfoy."

"I've forgiven him, you know. For what he did to me. And you deserve to be happy now, Harry, so if he's the one--"

"I did not shag Malfoy!"

That certainly stopped all conversation in the corridor, until someone tittered. And then a few more someones. Harry just gritted his teeth and refused to acknowledge them.

Hermione chewed her lip. "All right," she said finally, as dubious as Ron had been. "But you could tell me if you did."

"We were brewing a potion. Newt eyes, baneberry leaves, three drops of my own sweat added at a precise forty-five-degree angle? Sound familiar?"

"You know I don't study Potions anymore, Harry."

"Then you'll have to take my word for it," he said as he led her the rest of the way to Charms. And really wished that someone, at least, would.


"It's my turn," said Draco briskly. "Let's just get this over with, Potter. And leave the bloody door open."

Harry shut it just to be contrary, though he did use a silencing charm this time to ward against nosy Hufflepuffs. "I'm as happy to be finished as you are."

Draco was silent as he added the last ingredient -- three drops of his blood -- to the maliciously bubbling cauldron and gestured sharply for Harry to do the last dozen stirs. "I still haven't heard the end of it," he said, as though Harry had.

Harry snorted as he set down the rod and left the potion to simmer until it either turned yellow or exploded. Both, at this point, seemed equally likely.

"Leave it to you to have the smallest cock at Hogwarts. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to have your housemates think you like small cocks?"

"Better than your housemates thinking you have one. Which I do not."

"I don't care, Potter."

"My prick is not small!"

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"You want to see it?" said Harry, already reaching for the clasp of his robes. "Fine, if that's what it takes. You take a good look and then you tell the whole school that Harry Potter is hung like a bloody hippogriff."

"If you were hung like a hippogriff you wouldn't still be looking for your first shag."

"I've been busy!" said Harry, flinging his robes open and yanking down his pants. "There. You see?'

Draco certainly looked for a very long time, long enough for Harry to get embarrassingly half-hard with the attention. When Draco took a sharp breath and whirled away Harry thought it was finally done, until Draco's robes fell to the floor.

"Now that," Draco said, "I've got to have. I don't care if it is attached to you, Potter."

Harry, though he'd never seriously considered the option of sticking his cock in Draco's arse, warmed to the suggestion quickly. He was, after all, eighteen years old and unlikely to find any other partner when the entire wizarding world thought he was hung like a bumblebee, and it took only a few strokes of his hand to reach full hardness.

"What should I..." he started, reaching tentatively for Draco's back with his free hand.

"Even you can figure it out, Potter. I have a hole. You have a rod. Just stick it in!"

"Just like that?"

Draco reached around his back with his wand, pointed it at his arse, spoke an incantation that Harry'd never heard before, and tossed his wand onto the work table as he bent over it. "Yes. Just like that."

Harry took him at his word, bending over Draco's back with cock in hand and slipping it in. It wasn't quite as tight as he'd imagined an arse would be, but it still gripped him hard and set off sparks in the back of his head as he pushed deeper and deeper till there was nothing left to push.

"Move," mumbled Draco once Harry'd been in for a little while. "Move!"

Fucking was remarkably easy, when it came down to it: push, pull, thrust, tug, moan, gasp, reach, stroke, grunt, bite, finger, tongue, tug, tug, cry, cry, thrust, thrust, thrust, faster, faster, faster, until your cock gives a great spasm and Draco says "Fuck!" and comes all over your hand.

Harry took a long time to breathe again. He took even longer to move. And longer still to speak.

"You'd never," he said finally, "have asked if it was in yet if we'd been doing that."

"And I swear I'll never ask again," said Draco breathlessly.

"If you want us to ever do this again, I want that in writing, Draco. In writing."


The owl landed on Harry's shoulder just after he finished his bacon, dropping a small scroll into his lap. Harry unrolled the parchment to read, in Draco's very careful lettering, "I promise not to ask 'Is it in yet?' anymore."

Bloody right he wouldn't, thought Harry, rerolling the note and tucking it into his robes for safekeeping. But just the once... that turned out all right.

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[ by CJ Marlowe ]   [ home ]   [ disclaimer ]

01sep05. Written for The Eros Affair, Check #45: Draco to Harry - I promise not to ask "Is it in yet?" anymore.