The Usefulness of Muggles
All was well, or at least Draco had thought so, until he’d walked through
the door of his boyfriend’s flat. It wasn’t bad enough that Harry lived in a Muggle neighbourhood
or that his flatmate was a Muggle-born. Yes, Muggle-born, not a Mudblood. He’d had that hammered
into his head enough over the last two years. It wasn’t even bad enough that the love of his life
had a Muggle job. But now Draco was expected to go to a Muggle party. And not just any party, but a
Muggle Halloween party! As much as he loved Harry and would do almost anything for the man, he drew
the line at this.
“No,” he said stubbornly, arms crossed and chin jutting out furiously. “I won’t go.”
“Draco, come on! It’ll be fun,” Harry pleaded for the hundredth time.
“Fun? Fun! Watching Muggles parade around in ridiculous witch and wizard costumes? Dressed as
Inferi and Dementors? That’s your idea of fun, Harry?”
“They don’t dress as Inferi and Dementors, we’ve been through this. They dress like mummies and
zombies, and wraiths. You know they have no idea what a Dementor even is.” Harry scowled, his
temper finally getting the best of him.
“I told you he wouldn’t go,” Hermione said in that irritating, bossy tone that she always had.
Draco looked up at her and snarled. “What the hell are you supposed to be, a human inferno with
fake cleavage?”
She smiled down at him with condescending eyes. “I’m Elektra.”
As if that was telling him anything at all.
“Elektra is a famous comic book character, a sexy, powerful, ninja assassin.” She smiled smugly
and, ignoring the look of contempt Draco was giving her, turned gracefully on her eight-inch heels
to face Harry. “Okay then, I’m going. I’ll give everyone your regrets for not being able to make
the party.”
The next thirty minutes passed in strained silence until Draco could no longer stand it. He stood
up in a huff and grabbed his cloak from a nearby chair. “Go to your damn party, Harry. I’m going
home.”
“Draco, wait.” Harry sprang from his chair quicker than a Snitch and grabbed Draco’s arm. “Look,
I’m sorry, okay?”
As furious as Draco was, he couldn’t stay angry when Harry used that pleading tone. “It’s all
right, Harry,” he said softly. “Go to the party, have fun with your friends. I’ll see you
tomorrow.”
Harry let go of Draco’s arm and looked down, shuffling his feet nervously. Draco recognized the
action immediately and his heart sank. Harry had something to tell him and if it made him this
nervous, it couldn’t be good.
“Just say it, Harry,” Draco said calmly, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice. He’d been
waiting for this day for two years. The day when Harry realised Draco no longer fit into his life,
the day when his love was no longer enough. “I can handle it, you know. I’m a big boy.”
Harry looked up in surprise. “Handle what?”
Draco huffed and threw his cloak back over the chair. He rubbed his forehead in exasperation before
sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring studiously at his hands. “I can handle it if you don’t
want to see me anymore. I won’t like it, but I won’t die.”
The silence that followed only seemed to confirm the obvious, but damn it, he’d thought Harry would
at least say he was sorry, try to explain, give him some lame excuse about how it wasn’t that he
didn’t care. He felt the sofa shift as Harry sat down beside him, but he wasn’t prepared for the
gentle hand that touched his chin and lifted his face up, or the softness in Harry’s eyes when they
met his.
“Draco, you idiot. Why on Earth would you think that?” His voice was warm and tender and it made
Draco’s heart leap into his throat.
Harry leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s unresponsive lips. “It was just an
argument. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you anymore.” Harry brushed an annoying hair from
Draco’s eyes and pulled the man into his arms. “God, Draco, what have I done to make you jump to
that conclusion?”
Draco blinked several times and allowed himself to return the hug, burying his face in Harry’s
neck. “I don’t fit very well into your life anymore, Harry. We both know that.”
Harry chuckled and pulled away so he could see Draco’s face. “You’ve never fit into my life, Draco
and I’ve never fit into yours, but we fit each other more perfectly than anything I’ve ever
known.”
Draco was shaking his head ominously. “But your friends dislike me and I hate your job and... the
party. Things like this will always come up and one day you’ll get tired of making excuses.”
Harry laughed again and immediately apologized when he saw the look of hurt in Draco’s eyes. “The
only reason I wanted to go to the party was that I wanted to see you dressed up like a pirate or
Peter Pan or Superman, with tights or boots or a sexy red cape.”
Draco’s mouth fell open in surprise. “What?”
Harry was no longer looking at him and from the blush that was spreading from his cheeks down his
neck, Draco could tell why. He felt a tsunami of relief wash over him and he laughed. “Bloody
Gryffindor,” he said as he pulled Harry to him and kissed him soundly. “Why didn’t you just
ask?”
“I was embarrassed,” Harry mumbled against Draco’s chest, where he was trying his best to hide. “I
was afraid you’d laugh at me or worse - that you’d be mad or insulted.”
Draco wrapped his arms tighter around Harry and laughed again, but then abruptly stopped. “I’m not
laughing at you, Harry. I’m just... surprised that’s all. Not mad. Not insulted. Just surprised
that my innocent little Harry has a fetish I didn’t know about.”
Harry looked up at him and glared. “Not so innocent.”
Draco grinned and shook his head. “No, apparently not.” This time when Harry kissed him his lips
responded immediately, as did the rest of his body. Harry pulled away long enough to drag him into
the bedroom mumbling something that sounded like, “I’ll show you who’s not innocent.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thump... thump...
Draco started at the noise and realised it must be Granger stumbling in drunk from the party. He
curled back into Harry’s arms and tried to go back to sleep, but decided a glass of water and a
trip to the loo might be more important than sleep at the moment.
He headed toward the kitchen, still groggy from sleep, and tripped over something in the middle of
the living room floor. Swearing furiously he plucked up the offending object. Staring at Granger’s
shiny vinyl thigh-high boots sent a wicked thought through his mind and he forgot about the kitchen
entirely. Picking up the boots, he headed back to the bedroom where he quietly slipped his wand
from the bedside table, and scooped up the trousers and shirt that he’d so carelessly discarded
earlier.
He tiptoed to the ensuite loo and sent a silent thanks to Professor McGonagall for pushing him so
hard in Transfigurations. Pointing his wand at his shirt, he closed his eyes and pictured a
luxuriously soft, black leather vest. When he opened his eyes all he could think was,
“Perfect.”
Next he picked up his trousers and studied them, immediately thinking of a tight, leather
mini-skirt, but just as quickly, dismissing the notion. That might be a little more than Harry
could handle. Instead he changed them into a pair of tight leather shorts and grinned when he put
them on. Apparently his imagination was more vivid than he’d thought. Not only were they indecently
short, but he now had a flaming red dragon draped across his arse.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he looked at himself in the mirror. “Why the hell haven’t we done this
before?”
He picked up his wand again and resized the boots to fit. Walking in eight inch heels would be a
bit tricky, but nothing a good Stabilizing Charm couldn’t solve. Besides, I doubt I’ll be
walking much.
He donned the boots and stood up. Staring at himself in the full length mirror, he couldn’t help
but smirk. “Oh, Harry, be careful what you wish for,” he said smugly.
As if on cue, he heard Harry’s sleepy voice coming from the bedroom. “Draco, you okay?” There was a
short pause before the lamp clicked on. “Draco?”
He took one more look in the mirror, sucked in a deep breath, and opened the door. If he hadn’t
been so bloody nervous he would have laughed at the look on Harry’s face. First confusion, then
surprise, then...
Harry sat up slowly, his eyes roaming hungrily from Draco’s face down the line of pale skin that
was visible where the vest opened. He paused when he got to the obvious bulge in the tight leather
shorts, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and Draco was delighted to see him squirm. He
continued devouring the sight before him with a look of utter wonder, as if he’d been blind and
only now realized he could see. His eyes scanned over the blood red thigh-high boots, stopped at
the heels and stared.
“Bloody hell, Draco.” Harry seemed to be having trouble drawing his eyes away from the boots, but
when they finally darted back up to Draco’s, there was a predatory look in them that Draco had seen
only once. The very first night they’d ever kissed.
He turned around seductively, bracing his hands high on either side of the door frame and waggled
his dragon clad arse in invitation. “Is this what you had in mind, Harry?”
The tiny whimper from his lover’s lips was answer enough. He looked over his shoulder with his best
"come fuck me" look and blew Harry a kiss.
Before he could blink, there was a soft pop and Harry was behind him, hands roaming down his
thighs, lips devouring his neck. “Fuck, Draco, you’re gorgeous,” Harry managed to mumble between
the kisses and bites that were already driving Draco mad. Draco pushed back, feeling Harry’s stiff
cock, even through the tight leather shorts.
Harry moaned into his ear and his fingers began deftly undoing the shiny silver buttons that were
the only thing standing between Draco and paradise. God, he’d never wanted Harry’s hand on his cock
more than he did right now and once it was there he couldn’t help but buck into it. Harry’s other
hand was hastily shoving the shorts down, his tongue was still doing evil things to Draco’s neck
and... “Hurryharrypleasehurry,” Draco whimpered as he jutted his arse out so Harry could have as
much access as possible. But when Harry dropped to his knees and Draco felt the warm tongue on his
arse, the combination was too much. He came, shooting sticky white streaks over Harry’s hand,
leaving it to drip slowly down the doorjamb.
Draco sagged against the wall until Harry stood and guided him to the bed. How he managed it with
the shorts still around his knees he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter because Harry was pushing
into him with wild abandon and he was once again as hard as if he hadn’t had an orgasm in days.
Harry was running his hands along the red boots and grunting and swearing and pumping his love into
Draco’s body and it was all too good for even his thoughts to process.
Perhaps, Draco thought later, as he lay content and satiated in Harry’s arms while the morning sun
crept in through the windows, if Muggles could invent red, thigh-high boots, they might be useful
after all.
Just the Two of Us
Draco agrees to spend some time with Harry's Muggle friends, but as usual, he has an ulterior
motive. Sequel to The Usefulness of Muggles. "Come on, Draco.
It'll be fun! We'll be out in the woods, stars twinkling overhead, the wind whistling through the
trees—"
"Harry, why on earth would I want to sit outside being eaten by bugs, listening to a bunch of
Muggles telling ridiculous ghost stories? We've been through this, haven't we? I don't fit in with
your friends long enough to enjoy a dinner party, much less a week in the middle of nowhere."
Harry couldn't hide his disappointment, not that he was trying terribly hard. "I thought it sounded
romantic," he mumbled despondently.
Draco raised a single brow and tried his best to act nonchalant, but it killed him to see Harry
sad, especially when he knew he was the reason for it. "Fine, you win. I'll go on the damn
camping trip. But there will be Repellent Charms to keep the bugs and other nasty creatures at bay,
and there will be Cushioning Charms on the ground underneath the sleeping bags, and there will be
Heating Charms in the tent, and ... we are using a magical tent, aren't we? Please tell me I won't
have to shower and use the loo in one of those awful, unsanitary public toilets."
Harry was so pleased and genuinely surprised that he'd just about agree to anything. "Whatever you
want, Draco," he said as he bounced onto his knees on the sofa, tackling Draco in a gigantic, happy
hug. "You can bring anything you want."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You're kidding? He actually agreed to go?"
"Yes, Hermione, he agreed to go," Harry said as he packed the last of his things into his backpack.
"I told you he would if he knew how much it meant to me. He loves me. How many ways does he have to
prove it before you'll believe me?"
"I do believe you. I just ... can't believe Draco Malfoy is voluntarily going camping for a week
with Muggles. It's just one of those things that you never think you'll live long enough to
see."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So far Draco had been pleasant ... to everyone. It was completely unnerving. This was the same
Draco who would snark and snip at Harry's friends just for looking at him the wrong way, yet for
the entire five-hour bus ride from Victoria Coach Station, he had been nothing but pleasant. He'd
carried on polite conversations, he'd laughed at Tim's stupid jokes, and he'd listened intently to
Maria's rather boring stories. He'd even held his tongue when Alex went on and on about how
differently they did things in 'America'.
As soon as they'd reached Beddgelert, Draco had immediately pitched the tent – the Muggle way.
Without swearing, without berating Harry about what a horrible idea this was in the first place,
without even as much as a complaint. And now he was happily drinking beer with Jason. Draco hated
beer. Harry was tempted to drag him into the woods and Apparate him to St. Mungo's.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Draco asked curiously when he caught his boyfriend staring at him oddly.
"You've been terribly quiet for the last hour."
"I was about to ask you the same thing."
"Why? I haven't been quiet. I'm having a grand time. The fresh air, the sunshine, the cool breeze.
You were right; it's beautiful out here."
"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"
Draco laughed and pulled Harry into a warm kiss. "Just wait until later; I'll prove it's really
me." He winked and hurried off to do God only knew what.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm beginning to see why you put up with him," Sarah said jokingly as she sat next to Harry on an
old rotting log away from the fire. "He's really quite pleasant when he's like this. Did you drug
him?"
Harry shook his head sombrely. "I have no idea what's got into him."
"What's the problem? I thought you'd be pleased that after all this time he's finally attempting to
get along with your friends. Isn't that what you've always wanted?"
"Yeah, but ... look at him. He's having the time of his life and he hasn't said ten words to me
since we got here."
"Do I sense a hint of jealousy?"
Harry bit his lip nervously. "It's just—"
"That he usually tags along behind you at these things, always there when you turn around, always
waiting for any scrap of attention you'll give him?"
Harry looked up at his friend in surprise. "It's not like that."
Sarah glanced to where Draco sat with Tim and Donavan as Alex tried to teach them how to roast
marshmallows. All three of the men laughed when the gooey substance dripped down Draco's tong and
made a sizzling sound as it fell into the fire. "Are you sure?"
Harry glared at her. Huffing, he stood and marched to Draco's side, sitting down behind him and
wrapping his arms around the man's waist. "Having fun?"
"Harry, this is amazing! Why haven't we done this before?"
"Because you hate camping. You hate bugs and soot from the fire. You hate sausages and burned
potatoes and beer." Harry rested his chin on Draco's shoulder. "And you hate my friends."
Draco nuzzled his head against Harry's and kissed him on the temple. "Yes, but I love you."
"Then why don't we go into our tent and you can show me how much?"
Draco glanced at his boyfriend curiously. "But I thought you came here to be with your
friends?"
"I thought I did too. But I'd much rather be alone with you."
Draco smirked and handed Alex his roasting tong. "Excuse me, boys, but I have important business to
attend to." He took Harry's hand and led him to the tent he'd set up. "After you, Boy Wonder," he
teased as he lifted the flap.
Harry ducked to enter the small tent and froze mid-step. Draco entered behind him and wrapped his
arms around Harry's waist. "Do you like it?" he whispered into his boyfriend's ear.
Harry was speechless. It was as if they'd just walked outside on a beautiful, starlit night. The
full moon was shimmering overhead and the songs of crickets and frogs mingled with the sound of the
wind whispering through the trees to create the most beautiful melody Harry had ever heard. In the
middle of the circle of trees was a roaring campfire and next to it, spread out under the stars,
was a large, luxurious looking bearskin rug with two glasses of bubbling Champagne dancing above
it.
Harry looked back at Draco with unbelievably wide eyes. "How did you manage to—"
Draco captured Harry's lips before he could finish the sentence, running his fingertips lightly
over Harry's arched neck. "Magic, Harry," Draco whispered against his lips. "Now we can go camping
anytime you want. Just the two of us."
Harry didn't know how it was possible, but he loved Draco more at that moment than ever before. He
had never felt more wanted or cherished. "Draco, my friends—"
"Are boring and obnoxious and irritating as hell, but they come with the package." Draco smirked
and ran his hand down Harry's chest to cup the growing bulge in Harry's jeans. "And this is one
package I'm never losing."
"So you still don't like my friends?"
"They're..." Draco sighed and leaned his head against Harry's shoulder. "I'm trying, Harry."
Harry turned in his boyfriend's arms, pulling Draco closer and grinning mischievously. "But you
don't like them?"
"No, Harry, I'm sorry. I really don't."
"Good," Harry said quietly, threading his fingers into Draco's hair. "Because I don't like sharing
you with them."
"Does that mean we can stay in here for the rest of the week?"
Harry pulled out of Draco's arms and backed toward the rug, shedding clothing as he went. When he
reached his destination he lay back, offering himself up to Draco like a sweet morsel to the gods.
He smirked, running his fingertips down his chest and over his thighs before answering, "What do
you think?"
~fin~
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