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Harry Potter was not a happy wizard. Earlier that day he had woken up to a wet bed - for the eighth night in a row - and had gotten into a minor duel with Draco Malfoy in the corridor before breakfast. Flich, of course, had to be the one that caught them and took them to McGonnagal. Sick of their constant fighting, McGonnagal decided to force the two to cooperate. She'd ordered them to pack a bag, telling them that they were going to be spending the weekend away from their dorms.

 

Nervous, Harry walked slowly back to McGonnagal's office after packing his bag. He'd be spending the weekend with Malfoy. He wasn't sure what that entailed, but with Harry's growing bedwetting problem and occasional day wetting problems Harry wasn't sure he'd survive with his pride intact.

 

He came upon the office door and was unable to dally any longer. Knocking and getting a response, Harry opened the dooe hesitantly. Malfoy was already back, looking as if someone had stuffed an entire lemon in his mouth.

 

"Follow me, boys," McGonnagal ordered, and took off quickly down the corridor not waiting for the boys to follow her.

 

Glaring at one another, they complied, chasing after their professor as she made her way through the castle, opening doors and turning paths that Harry had not explored before. He wasn't even sure they were on the Map. Malfoy looked as lost as he did, so Harry was sure this part of the castle was long forgotten by the students, making the young Gryffindor more nervous with each passing second.

 

Finally, McGonnagal stopped in front of a tall oak door. She turned to her students giving them a calculating glare.

 

"This room was built by the founders when they first discovered how volitile young Gyrffindors and Slytherins can be towards one another." she started. "The room was used to house problem students, keeping them there until they could learn to get along." Harry gulped at that. He and Malfoy were like fire and water; it would take years for the boys to solve their problems, if ever.

 

"However," McGonnagal continued, "that rule was disbanded many years ago. These days the room is hardly used, and only in extreme circumstances. It was also changed to allow students to leave after three days. Locking them up in here for weeks or months caused a drastic slip in grades."

 

"So we'll only have to be in here until Monday morning?" Harry asked.

 

"Yes. However, after speaking with Professors Dumbledore and Snape we decided that it would be best to have you stay in this room every weekend until you learn to get along."

 

"WHAT!" Shrieked Malfoy, aghast.

 

"Do not ask me to repeat myself, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall warned. "The house elves will provide you with your meals and will unlock the door Monday morning in time for your first class." With that she swished her wand and the door opened. "This is a time of war; you two are the leaders of your houses, and in order for us to win this war you two need to set aside your personal differences and get along.

 

"You are also required to surrender your wands while you are in the room. You will not be needing magic, and you clearly cannot be trusted not to do bodily harm to each other when unsupervised." Glaring at the grumbles of protest, Harry grudgingly gave his professor his wand. Malfoy slowly gave his wand up as well, although Harry swore he heard Malfoy mummer something about his father hearing about this.

 

She hustled the two into the room, shutting it behind them quickly. Harry heard the door lock behind them. Resigned, Harry looked at the room they were in. It was an average sized room, done in tones of soft browns and creams. Two beds were at the far wall, night tables and dressers beside them. Closer to the door was a large fireplace, a sofa and two armchairs facing it. A bookshelf stood off to the side, and opposite it was a door Harry assumed lead to the bathroom. No place for Harry to really avoid Malfoy, however, the more pressing problem was that Harry was not seeing a way to hide his nighttime problem from his arch enemy.

 

Thinking about his bladder made Harry realize that his bladder soon needed release. He sat his bag down on one of the beds and was just about to turn to the bathroom when Malfoy stormed his way past, heading for the loo.

 

"Hey, I was about to go in there." Harry protested.

 

"Too slow Potter. I need a shower. A Malfoy is expected to look his best at all times, even when there is no one important around to see him." With that he shut the door, leaving Harry and his bladder on the wrong side of the bathroom.

 

Harry heard the shower turn on, the sound of running water making his bladder twinge. It wasn't a desperate twinge, not yet, and Harry figured he could wait it out and he set about unpacking his things.

 

Half an hour later the shower was still running and Harry began to grow desperate. He had taken a seat by the fireplace and tried to read his new Quidditch book, but he couldn't stop squirming. If Malfoy took much longer Harry wasn't sure he could wait it out without accident. Gathering up his willpower Harry turned back to his book, doing his best to ignore his persistant bladder. He was sixteen years old and he could damn well act like it.

 

Ten minutes later Harry heard the shower shut off. Finally, Harry though, setting his book aside, preparing himself to rush to the loo the second Malfoy vacated the room. His bladder had turned painful and he couldn't stop himself from squirming at the prospect of soon being able to release himself. Harry, however, underestimated the time it would take Malfoy to get dressed after his shower. Ten more minutes had passed and still the Slytherin boy hadn't come out. Harry was beginning to panic. He no longer tried to restrain his squirming. He crossed his legs, but that was no help. Minutes more passed and Harry knew it wouldn't be much longer before he would loose it. Glancing at the bathroom door Harry decided he had to chance asking Malfoy how much longer he'd be.

 

"Oi! Malfoy! Would you hurry up in there?"

 

"A Malfoy's beauty takes time to complete." Came the muffled response.

 

Harry groaned in fustration. If a Malfoy's beauty took too much longer to complete Harry wouldn't make it. The pressure just kept building and building. Harry's hand began to slip its way down to his penis, grabbing himself through his jeans and squeezing, trying to relieve himself of some of the pressure. It worked for a minute, and Harry began to relax a bit.

 

Inside the bathroom Malfoy turned on the tap, the sound carrying outside to Harry's weak and protesting bladder. His slightly relaxed bladder couldn't take it, and he released a few drops of golden liquid into his boxers before he could grasp himself tighter, moaning.

 

Harry was now completely tense and unable to keep still. His leg was jiggling, and his left hand was reaching down to join his other hand in grasping himself. He squeezed tighter as he felt a sharp pain flow through his lower abdomen. His bladder strained, and he couldn't stop a small squirt from leaking out into his now damp boxers. Harry grit his teeth, crossed his legs, and hoped to Merlin Malfoy would get out of that bathroom. Harry wasn't sure he could last any longer.

 

More minutes passed and Harry found it harder and harder to keep himself dry. He heard the tap turn off just as his bladder let go for a few seconds. Regaining control of his aching bladder was much harder this time, and Harry looked down to find a small dark spot in the crotch of his jeans.

 

Just as Harry wasn't sure he would last a minute longer Malfoy exited the bathroom. Harry jumped to his feet, his bladder leaking more drops out as he moved. Ignoring Malfoy's snide comments, Harry quickly pushed past him, slamming the door shut as he finally made it to the loo. However, those last, desperate, steps had been Harry's undoing. His poor bladder could take no more and Harry stood in the middle of the bathroom, his bladder emptying itself. It was all Harry could do not to moan loudly in pleasure as the golden puddle gathered at his feet.

 

As the final drops escaped, reality hit Harry like a bludger. Here he was, wandless and stuck in a room with Draco Malfoy, surrounded by a puddle of his own pee. How would he clean up this mess?

 

Thinking quickly, Harry pulled off his sodden jeans and boxers, using them to mop up the puddle. He wet his shirt in the sink and used it to clean up the remaining traces of his accicent, throwing it all in the hamper when he was done. Luckily, the hmaper was still charmed to send any dirty clothes directly to the house elves for cleaning, so Malfoy would never know. Harry hopped in the shower, thinking to himself that this weekend was going to feel more like a week if Malfoy kept hogging the bathroom. He still wasn't sure what he was going to do about his nighttime wettings.

 

 

 

This is my very first time ever writing a fic of any kind, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is welcome, as is undying love. Keep in mind I wrote this in about an hour, and it's not edited. Mistakes are sure to appear. If people seem to like this I'll probably contiune when I have time.

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Harry Potter was not a happy wizard. Earlier that day he had woken up to a wet bed - for the eighth night in a row - and had gotten into a minor duel with Draco Malfoy in the corridor before breakfast

Chapter 7   Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. He kept wondering if the kiss on his forehead meant anything, or if it was just friendly. Harry had no previous relationship experience unless y

Chapter 2   The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly, with both boys ignoring the other. Harry worked on his schoolwork and for the first time ever he was done before late Sunday night. Despite He

Chapter 2

 

The rest of the afternoon went by smoothly, with both boys ignoring the other. Harry worked on his schoolwork and for the first time ever he was done before late Sunday night. Despite Hermione's nagging, Harry and Ron had always put their work off until the last minute.

 

Harry made sure to make several more trips to the loo throughout the day, not wanting to get put into another situation like that morning. Luckily, or unluckily, it seemed like Malfoy was only a bathroom hog when he knew Harry needed to get in.

 

Around ten o'clock the house elves brought the two an evening snack, with a warning that the lights were spelled to shut off at exactly midnight, and that McGonagall’s orders were for the boys to be in bed before then. Harry was disheartened. He'd been thinking about his situation all afternoon and decided that if he didn't drink anything after supper and stayed up really late he might be able to make it through the night dry. Being told that he had a curfew along with the tempting hot chocolate that the house elf had served went against Harry's plan.

 

Maybe if I just sip it. It would look strange if I didn't drink it. Malfoy's gulping his down.

 

So Harry drank slowly, hoping that this screw in his plan wouldn't ruin things too much. He'd pee twice before going to bed. It would work. It had to.

 

 

 

Of course it didn't work.

 

Early the next morning Harry woke with a start. It took him a moment to get his bearings, used to waking up in Gryffindor Tower after six years at Hogwarts. After remembering where he was - and who he was with - Harry noticed his problem. He was lying in a puddle of cool liquid. Clearly he did not make it through the night dry, and peeing twice before bed hadn't helped. Harry groaned silently. How would he manage to hide this from Malfoy? More urgently, Harry could feel his bladder straining, telling him he needed to use the loo again, and soon.

 

Harry looked over at Malfoy's bed to find it empty. Looking around the room Harry didn't see Malfoy anywhere. Harry almost sighed in relief until he remembered that Malfoy couldn't leave the room. If he wasn't here then he must be in the bathroom. Looking at the door with dread Harry noted that the door was indeed closed, and he could hear faint sounds coming from inside the room. Damn. Harry squirmed, his pajamas uncomfortably damp and the waistband pressing unhelpfully into his aching bladder. Waking up in the morning meant anyone would have to pee pretty bad, but for Harry it meant he had minutes or less. Harry couldn't decide what was worse; wetting his bed again or getting up and begging Malfoy to let him in the loo. Either way Harry braced himself for the inevitable fact that Malfoy would be seeing him with wet pants and sheets.

 

Deciding to suck it up and ask Malfoy to let him in the loo, Harry started peeling himself apart from the soggy sheets when the bathroom door swung open, startling Harry, and in turn, his overfull bladder. His poor bladder couldn't take the scare and it let go in a strong stream. He froze, barely containing a moan of contentment at finally letting go. Harry glanced down at his crotch, noting that his pants had been so wet already that this new stream arched straight up from his lap, as if there were no barriers. Harry glanced back up at Malfoy, who was standing in the middle of the room, staring at Harry's crotch in shock. Harry, caught between watching Malfoy and watching the stream of urine leave his body, was sure he looked like one of those Muggle bobble heads, glancing up and down in rapid session.

 

After what seemed like several long minutes, the stream began to slow down, no longer flowing from his pants like a fountain. When all that was left were a few dribbles Harry hesitantly looked up at Malfoy.

 

Malfoy, for once, seemed speechless, still staring at Harry's wet pants, blinking owlishly.

 

"Malfoy..." Harry began, not really sure what to say.

 

Harry's voice seemed to break Malfoy's trance.

 

"What the sodding hell Potter? Are you five years old? Can't you control yourself or is this what all of the cool Gryffindors do?" He sneered.

 

"No," Harry murmured quietly, ashamed.

 

"You're not Harry Potter, you're Harry Potty!" Malfoy snorted, amused at his own joke.

 

Harry could feel tears threatening to fall at Malfoy's cruelty. He knew it wouldn't take long for Malfoy to spread the story around the school come Monday morning. By suppertime everyone would be calling him Potty.

 

Harry looked down at his mess, more ashamed and embarrassed than ever. "Please," he whispered, "Please don't tell anyone."

 

Malfoy stared at him, sneer still on his face. "Well why shouldn't I tell everyone that the great Potter can't even go potty on his own?"

 

Harry couldn't help it; a tear escaped.

 

"How do you plan on defeating the Dark Lord? wetting on him?" Malfoy continued.

 

"Please don't," Harry whispered again, head hung in shame and tears falling freely now.

 

After a minute, he could hear Malfoy move closer to the bed, but he didn't look up. He felt a hand hesitantly touch his arm.

 

"Hey, Potter. I was just joking. I'm not really going to say anything. McGonagall'd be really pissed if I started something so close to the war."

 

Harry glanced up at the blonde. Malfoy looked uncomfortable, but had a determined glint in his ice blue eyes. Eyes a person could get lost in if they let themselves...

 

He shook himself out of it, sniffled a bit, and said, "Really? You really won’t say anything? No one knows, not even Ron or Hermione."

 

"I really won’t say anything." Malfoy promised.

 

Harry wasn't sure what made him believe the Slytherin, but he did.

 

"Thanks,"

 

"Don't mention it. Now, let's get you cleaned up. If you take your sheets to the hamper the house elves will wash them, no questions asked. They'll probably bring you clean ones with breakfast."

 

Harry smiled. Malfoy was still arrogant and rude, but spending the weekend locked up with him might not be so bad.

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Fantastic! I bet a lot of harry potter fanfics (especially ones involving omorashi) are more addictive to me than Heroine. 

 

Could you feed my addiction by writing more, please? 

 

I'm working on getting a few more chapters done by tomorrow since I'll be away for the weekend. I'll probably post at least one tonight. Thanks for the love. :)

Edited by AlwaysSnarry (see edit history)
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Chapter 3

 

Malfoy was right. When the house elves showed up with breakfast they brought Harry clean sheets, and even spelled the mattress dry. They said nothing about it, for which Harry was grateful. He kept waiting for Malfoy to change his mind about not telling anyone and start making fun of Harry again. But, so far, Malfoy has barley said a word to him, content to eat his breakfast in peace. Harry followed his lead, not bold enough to say anything or try to explain what happened that morning.

 

With breakfast finished, Harry picked up his new Quidditch book to read whilst Malfoy took out some boring looking book about Wizarding history. The two spent most of their morning in silence, not speaking until Malfoy marked his place in the book he was reading and sighed loudly.

 

“I’m bored.” He announced. “I don’t suppose you’d fancy a game of wizard’s chess?”

 

“I haven’t brought my chess pieces.” Harry told him sadly. There wasn’t much to do cooped up in this small room and a game of chess would have been a nice distraction from the boredom.

 

“I’ve got an extra set.”

 

“Great. I’m not very good though. No strategy.” Harry said as Malfoy walked across the room to gather the board and pieces.

 

“That’s fine. It means I get to win more.” Malfoy looked positively gleeful as he spoke. Leave it to the Slytherin to get excited at the prospect of besting Harry at something.

 

The two boys played chess quietly for a while, only speaking to direct pieces. Halfway through the second game Malfoy hesitantly brought up the subject Harry’d been dreading.

 

“So… Er. What was this morning about?” He asked as he directed his Queen to take Harry’s Knight.

 

Harry kept his eyes on the chessboard, concentrating on cleaning up his ruined Knight.

 

“I… Er. Well… It’s… It’s not my fault. I. Er. Well, I can’t really… I’ve got…” Harry really didn’t know how to explain things so that Malfoy wouldn’t laugh at him and kept stumbling over his words, trying to think of a way out of explaining his situation.

 

Malfoy looked at him with empathy in his eyes. “Harry,” he started, shocking the other boy with the use of his first name and causing Harry to look up and lock eyes with the blonde. “I promise you, whatever you say won’t leave this room. You can tell me.”

 

The sincerity Harry saw in the Slytherin’s eyes gave him the courage to speak.

 

“It started when I was a kid, three or four maybe. Aunt Petunia had finally gotten Dudley potty trained, so she decided that I was old enough to stop wearing diapers, too, even though she’d never bothered to teach me. I quickly learned not to have accidents around the house, but at night I couldn’t help it. Uncle Vernon -” Harry’s voice broke at the name and he finally broke his gaze with the ice blue eyes. “Uncle Vernon would beat me every morning that I wet.”

 

Harry felt a gentle hand cup his cheek, forcing his head upward to meet Malfoy’s eyes once again.

 

“Harry, it wasn’t your fault. You were just a kid. What they did was wrong.”

 

“That wasn’t all they did.” Harry was scared to continue. He’d never told anyone this before. He still wasn’t really sure what was compelling him to confide in Mal - Draco. If Draco could call Harry by his first name then so could he.

 

“Things started getting worse. The hitting, I mean. One morning I woke up really wet. I guess I’d had too much to drink before bed or something. I was soaking wet and the mattress was ruined. Uncle Vernon was furious. I had never seen him that mad. He hit me and hit me until I collapsed. Then he started kicking me. I think my ribs were broken and my arm certainly was, I was bleeding everywhere and still he didn’t stop.” Harry’s voice broke with a sob, but he couldn’t stop talking. Words were pouring from his mouth and he didn’t think he could stop talking if he tried. “Then he hit something and I’ve never felt such pain before. Even facing Voldemort I’ve never felt pain that bad. I’m not sure what he did but he must have gotten my bladder somehow. It let go then and I wet all over the carpet. Vernon went into a rage and the last thing I remembered was seeing his foot come down across my face.

 

“I woke up later in my closet. I don’t know how much time had passed, but my arm and ribs were better. I didn’t understand it at the time but I guess I must have magiced myself better. My lower stomach still hurt bad, my bladder I realized later, but at the time I didn’t know. I laid there for hours and no one let me out. It wasn’t the longest I’d been locked in my closet, but usually when they were leaving me there for long periods of time they’d leave me a bucket for.. y’know. Bathroom purposes. This time they didn’t and I started to have to go real bad. I didn’t want to get into more trouble by wetting again so I held it for as long as I could. When I finally couldn’t hold it any longer it hurt so bad. I couldn’t go at first and it scared me. It felt like a knife was stabbing at me.”

 

At some point Draco had moved around the table to sit next to Harry. He felt a warm arm wrap around his waist and Harry willing leaned into the embrace. Harry was openly sobbing now, unable to catch his breath. Draco murmuring calming words and rubbing his back only caused Harry to cry harder, and when Draco pulled the younger boy closer to him, he didn’t protest. He buried his head into the crook of Draco’s neck and sobbed for his lost childhood.

 

Some minutes later Harry pulled himself together, pushing himself away from the blond, embarrassed by his emotional breakdown. Draco wouldn’t let him go far, keeping one arm around the boy’s waist for comfort.

 

“I guess it was the combination of the kick from earlier and holding it so long after, but since that day I’ve always had a really weak bladder. I’ve never been able to stay dry when I sleep, and since I’m a pretty heavy sleeper most nights I wake up wet.” Harry finished his story, emotionally spent.

 

“Harry,” the other boy started. “You know that none of that was your fault, right? You were just a little kid. You didn’t deserve to have any of that happen to you.”

 

Harry nodded. “I know. Doesn’t make it any less embarrassing that I can’t even control my own bladder.”

 

Draco sympathized, he knew what it felt like not to have control over things.

 

“I  know. But Harry, when you’re with me you don’t have anything to feel ashamed about, okay? I won’t make fun of you anymore, and I’m sorry I did earlier.”

 

“It’s okay. I must have made a pretty funny sight.”

 

“More like shocking. I had no idea what was going on. First I thought it was some sort of prank till I remembered that we couldn’t use magic. Does anyone else know this? Weasley or Granger? Madame Pomfrey?”

 

“No, no one. You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Bright green eyes met Draco’s, pleading with him silently.

 

“No,” he promised. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

 

“Thanks, Draco. For not saying anything, and for… being here.”

 

 

 

They eventually broke apart, going back to their chess game, which Harry lost spectacularly. They played a few more games, stopping when the house elves brought in lunch. They talked the rest of the afternoon, Harry sharing more details of growing up with the Dursleys and his wetting problem, and Draco speaking of growing up in the Wizarding world. It felt freeing to Harry to be able to talk so openly about his childhood; even Ron and Hermione didn’t know most of the stories Harry was telling Draco. All of a sudden Draco had gone from his school nemesis to his confidant, and Harry had no clue how it happened or if it was going to last.

 

He voiced his thoughts during a lull in conversation.

 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen. Only certain Order members know I switched sides. Dumbledore wants me to be a spy like Snape but I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it.”

 

“Does this mean that our… friendship.. can’t leave this room?” Harry asked, not even sure how to label this new development.

 

“I don’t think it can, not until I decide what I’m going to do. My father still sends me letters from Azkaban, trying to ensure my support of the Dark Lord in his absence. Mother seems to be going along with him.”

 

“That’s okay.” Harry was disheartened. He felt as if he had finally found someone who he could truly trust with his secrets only to have him ripped away.

 

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Draco noted the raven-haired boy’s change in demeanour. “We’ll find a way to still see each other. I am a Slytherin after all. We’re sneaky and clever and you know the entire castle like the back of your hand, we’ll think of something.”

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Chapter 4

 

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. The boys played chess, exploding snap, and ate the snacks the house elves left for them. They quickly became more comfortable with one another and were having a genuinely good time getting to know each other without egos and classmates getting in the way. While playing what had to be the eleventh game of Wizard’s Chess that day, Harry felt a twinge in his bladder, warning him he’d soon need to use the loo. He ignored it. For once it looked like he might be gaining the advantage on Draco and he didn’t want to distract himself from the game now.

 

He was in the process of cornering Draco’s Queen when the urge to urinate hit him even stronger. Again, he ignored it as he gleefully checked Draco’s chess piece. Draco took a long time trying to find a way out of defeat and for every minute he took thinking strategy Harry’s bladder threw stronger and stronger signals his way. He squirmed in place, waiting for Draco to make his move so Harry could win and run to the loo.

 

To Harry’s dismay, Draco found a way out and Harry ended up chasing him around the board for several minutes. The longer the game went on, the more Harry needed the loo, but he didn’t want to get up now, he was having a fun time and he still seemed to have a good chance at winning.

 

As Harry leaned over the table in concentration, his belt buckle dug into his bladder, irritating it and causing a small dribble to let loose into his boxers. Harry quickly leaned back, subtly placing a hand at his crotch, clutching his member in hopes of holding the liquid in until the game ended.

 

Draco was caught up in the game and didn’t notice Harry’s growing desperation. He moved his piece further out of the way, grinning. He mightn’t win, but he could make sure Harry had to work at winning this game.

 

Harry groaned silently, caught in a new dilemma. Even if he asked Draco to pause the game, Harry wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stand up without completely letting go control of his bladder.

 

Draco found a way to destroy one of Harry’s bishops and as he reached across the table to move the broken pieces out of his way a gush of hot liquid soaked his boxers. Harry couldn’t hold back his gasp of shock, causing Draco’s concentration to move from the game to his new friend.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked in concern.

 

“No,” Harry forced out, moving his other hand to his crotch in hopes of keeping the rest of his piss from coming out. “I really need to pee.”

 

“Well we can pause the game while you go. I promise I won’t cheat.” The blonde laughed.

 

After a moment of Harry not moving Draco’s expression once again turned to concern.

 

“Harry?” he asked.

 

“I don’t think I can get up…without wetting. I’ve held it too long.” Harry said softly.

 

“Oh,” Draco looked lost as to what to do help him.

 

“Ahh,” Harry groaned as a second spurt escaped, lasting longer than the previous. After several seconds Harry regained control, squeezing the life out of his penis in attempt to stop the flow. Looking down he saw a large wet patch at the front of his jeans. It was all he could do not to let go at the sight of the wetness. He looked to Draco for help, desperation in his eyes.

 

“What can I do to help?” Draco asked, willing to do anything to make the sad look in Harry’s eyes go away. He might have stopped to wonder how his feelings for Harry grew so quickly if it weren’t for the younger boy’s pressing problem. Harry was now almost doubled over from the pain of stopping the flow of liquid.

 

“Just help me stand up. Slowly.”

 

Draco rushed over, trying to get the boy to his feet without jostling him too much. The other boy was in such desperation that he feared moving his hands away from his crotch would end it all. Harry was almost fully vertical when Draco moved just slightly wrong, causing his elbow to jab into Harry’s lower stomach and the despondent boy to let loose a long stream of pee. Pee flooded his boxers and trickled down his legs while Harry desperately tried to regain control before a puddle formed on the floor. After a few tense seconds he slowed the flow, but he knew it wouldn’t last for long. He could still feel a steady stream of dribbles escaping.

 

“Hurry,” Harry urged Draco. “I’ve stopped, but barely.”

 

Moving quickly, Draco ushered Harry to the bathroom, half dragging half carrying the boy who was still holding himself in a vain attempt to stop the flow that had moved past a dribble at the constant movement. Harry could feel the wet hot urine trailing down his legs. He was sure that they left a path of pee behind them but all Harry cared about was making it to the toilet before his last shred of control left him.

 

Draco shoved the door open and led Harry to the toilet, noting that the closer they got the darker Harry’s jeans became. He figured he’d have seconds before the floodgates opened up.

 

Harry’s bladder grew more insistent at the sight of heaven being so close and Harry used every bit of will power he had not to let go yet. Not when he was so close. Draco placed Harry in front of the toilet, ready to exit and leave Harry with his last shred of dignity.

 

Harry panicked when he saw Draco begin to walk away.

 

“Draco,” he groaned out, “I can’t… move my hands. I need help.”

 

Draco noticed Harry’s dilemma as soon as the words left the other boy’s mouth. Cursing himself for his stupidity, he rushed back to the other boy, trying to work around his hands to open Harry’s jeans.

 

As his jeans button opened it dug into his stomach slightly, causing another small gush of pee to escape. Harry was beyond desperate by this point and was only seconds away from giving in.

 

“Okay, I’ve got your pants undone, but you’ve got to move your hands so  I can pull them down.”

 

“I can’t!” Another trickle escaped, longer this time. Harry knew if any more escaped he’d be done for.

 

“Uh. Here’s what we’ll do. Move one hand at a time inside your pants, ‘kay?”

 

Harry nodded and concentrated on slowly moving one hand inside his jeans to grasp himself directly. He was able to hold himself more directly and successfully stopped any more urine form spilling. As he moved his other hand, Draco pulled his jeans down quickly and angled him towards the toilet.

 

Harry let his bladder release, the moan of relief Harry let out belonging in a porn video. Harry didn’t care, nor did he care that his jeans were soaked. He made it, mostly, and he felt it was an accomplishment. He didn’t stop to think what Draco thought of the whole thing until minutes later when the steady stream trickled down and stopped. He shook the last drops out then looked up at Draco, cheeks turning pink.

 

“Draco, I – Sorry. I didn’t mean for that –”

 

“Nonsense. Harry, you misjudged and held it for too long, it’s okay.”

 

“No, it isn’t.” Harry burst out. “I’m sixteen bloody years old and I can’t tell how long it too long and I pissed myself.”

 

“You made it in the end.” Draco tried to encourage his friend.

 

“Barley, and only because you were there.”

 

“Well that’s what friends are for.”

 

“Friends shouldn’t have to help friends make it to the bathroom in time.”

 

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Harry? We’re not the normal kind of friends.”

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Chapter 5

 

That night, Harry went to bed with mixed feelings. He knew that if he wet the bed Draco would not make fun of him. It felt so good not to have to worry about hiding his bedwetting. However, this was also the last night they'd spend in the room. Tomorrow was Monday morning and McGonagall would be there to get them in the morning. Harry really wished that he and Draco were able to stay friends in public.

 

Troubled, Harry had a hard time falling asleep, spending a good hour tossing and turning. He heard Draco do the same in the bed next to him.

 

Eventually Draco stilled, but just when Harry thought he'd gone to sleep he heard a rustling come from the other bed, then the light from the lamp lit the room.

 

"What are you doing?" asked Harry.

 

"I have an idea." Draco announced.

 

"About what?"

 

"About how we can still see each other after this weekend." Draco pronounced proudly.

 

"Well, how?" Harry urged, growing excited.

 

"When McGonagall comes to get us tomorrow we have to pretend like nothing has changed and that we still hate each other. She said we'd be stuck in this room every weekend until we can learn to get along, so we can just take a really long time to learn our lesson. This way, even if we don't get to see each other much during the week, we're guaranteed the weekend."

 

"Draco you're absolutely brilliant!" Exclaimed Harry.

 

"I know," smirked the Slytherin, turning the light off once more.

 

Content that their plan would work, Harry quickly drifted off to sleep.

 

 

 

The next morning Harry woke wet and desperate to pee again. Jumping from the bed he rushed to the bathroom to take care of business. After leaving his damp pajamas for the elves to deal with, Harry took a quick shower, then dressed for the day. When he wandered back into the main room Draco was just beginning to wake.

 

"Morning," Draco grunted.

 

"You'd better get up, McGonagall should be here soon." Harry warned as he moved to his bed to gather the wet sheets.

 

Draco grumbled, but gradually got out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom.

 

He's adorable in the morning, Harry thought, then stopped in his tracks. Did he just think of Draco as adorable? It must have been a mistake. Not enough sleep and too much stress were making his brain fuzzy. Harry shook the strange thoughts from his mind and moved toward the coffee table, were a house elf was laying out breakfast.

 

"Professor McGonagall is to be getting yous from yours punishment room at exactly 8:45." The elderly house elf informed him, moving to remake Harry's bed.

 

Harry thanked the elf for her trouble and dug in to the pile of eggs in front of him. Draco joined him several minutes later and the two ate in silence.

 

At precisely 8:45 there was a knock on the door, followed by the click of the lock being opened. Immediately the boys moved farther apart, Draco adapting his trademark scowl and Harry's face forming a look of displeasure. They had to pull this plan off if they wanted to be sure of their continuing friendship.

 

McGonagall walked in, surveying the room, eyes landing on her two students.

 

"Well, boys. Have you learned anything from your weekend in this room?"

 

"Yeah, Draco's a bloody bathroom hog." Harry muttered, just loud enough to ensure his professor heard him.

 

"Language, Potter." She scolded. "Mr. Malfoy?"

 

"Your Golden Boy talks in his sleep. Moaning about his poor, tragic life, I'm sure. I don't know how the other Gryffindors can stand his snivelling." Draco spat.

 

The two boys turned to each other and scowled.

 

"Mhhf, well I see you boys have learned nothing from your time in this room. Meet me in my office Friday after last class. You will be spending a second weekend here."

 

With that she turned and marched away, leaving Harry and Draco to scramble after her or get lost in the maze of unexplored corridors. They didn't even chance a look at each other for fear of McGonagall noticing. Who knew how good her feline senses were in human form.

 

 

The week passed slowly. Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Gyrffindors were aghast at his punishment. Hermione was appalled at the idea of the isolation room, stating that it was barbaric and should have stayed unused. Harry only barley talked her out of issuing a formal complaint, terrified for a moment that he'd lose his only guarantee at a connection with Draco.

 

Classes went by as usual; Binns put his students to sleep, Flitwick showed them a nifty new concealment charm, Snape loudly complaining about his inept students, eyeing Harry as he did. All the while, Harry only saw Draco in class and the Great Hall, for his friends seemed to try to make up time lost on the weekend by never letting him go anywhere alone.

 

It was in Thursday's potions class that the only real glitch happened. Harry had a full class schedule that day, and spent lunch time revising his history essay, adding something Hermione insisted was vital information that couldn't be skipped over. Because of that, he hadn't gotten a chance to use the loo since before lunch, and midway through Snape's lecture about the important uses of unicorn hair in potions Harry's bladder started signaling him that he needed the toilet soon. Knowing that Snape never let the Gryffindors go to the loo during class, Harry did his best to try to ignore it.

 

Harry focused on taking notes, trying his best to keep from squirming in his seat. It worked for a while, but, fifteen minutes before the end of class, Harry's bladder contracted painfully, going from I need to go to I need to go now! Harry moved his left hand to his crotch, hunching over his desk to hide where his left hand went. Luckily, he was at the back of the classroom with only Ron on his right. Ron who was almost asleep, only waking every few minutes to scribble something down on paper.

Harry could feel a few of the first dribbles escape and clenched harder. There was no way he wetting in front of Snape and the Slytherins. He'd never live it down, and Snape would probably make him sit in his mess for the rest of class.

 

As the minutes slowly passed, Harry grew more and more frantic. The lecture was just winding down when Harry briefly lost control and a small spurt of hot piss dampened his trousers. He gave up all pretense of writing notes and focused solely on not losing it in class.

 

Draco noticed something was wrong with the Gryffindor when he had started squirming in his seat, and when Harry's left hand disappeared Draco knew the problem instantly. Harry had to use the loo, and badly. Draco spared a moment to wonder why Harry didn't ask to leave, but then remembered this was Snape. He once refused to let a girl use the bathroom, resulting in her upchucking her breakfast in her cauldron. Draco shuddered the memory and tried to focus on copying notes, but he couldn't stop himself from sneaking quick peeks at Harry every few moments. The other boy looked like he was fighting for control and Draco hoped he'd make it.

Snape had finished assigning that week's homework and was hurrying out of class. He never stayed after class, not wanting to be swarmed with confused students. Draco thought it irritating previously, but was glad for it now. Harry wasn't moving from his seat and he knew that it was because the other boy was scared to get up and jostling his weak bladder.

 

Draco dallied, telling his friends to go on ahead of him, he had something to do.

 

Across the room, Harry was telling his friends the same, and though they looked at him with question, they left him be, which Harry was relieved at. He had feared an argument from Ron.

 

Harry looked round the room, wondering if he would be able to make it to the nearest loo. He waited for the last of the students to leave before slowly getting up, only to moan as another small spurt escaped.

 

Someone came up behind him and Harry almost panicked until he saw white blonde hair and nearly cried with relief.

 

"Draco," he gasped out. "I don't know if I can make it. I'm already losing it!"

 

"Don't worry," the blonde moved a calming hand to his back and started rubbing soothingly. "I know a loo nearby that no one uses."

 

"Get me there, now!'

 

Draco led the teen to the door, peeking out to see if the corridor was empty. It was, so he moved out, guiding Harry by the arm, trying to get him to move as quickly as possible. Harry, however, was having difficulty moving fast, for every time he moved his bladder protested and threatened to give out.

 

"Draco," he moaned, stopping in his tracks. Another, longer, spurt of piss was escaping, and he clenched down hard. It had left a wet spot on the front of his trousers. "I'm losing it."

 

Seeing Harry so close to letting go and with tears in his eyes, Draco grew just as desperate. Thinking quickly he cast a feather light charm on the smaller boy, picked him up carefully, and all but ran to the loo.

 

Harry was clutching the older boy, caught between being happy at the speed in which they were now moving and being desperate because of the constant jerking of Draco's running.

 

"Please, hurry!" He cried, squeezing himself tightly, but not tight enough to stop more liquid from flowing. It soaked his crotch, and ran down his leg. It seemed to take forever for him to take back control and, as soon as he did, he almost lost it again.

 

"Draco, put me down! I'm peeing on you. Merlin, put me down!" Harry felt tears wet his face, but all he could think about was being seconds from completely letting go and not wanting to cover Draco with his piss too.

 

"It's okay, you're not going to pee on me. We're almost there." Draco tried reassuring his friend.

 

"I can't hold it!" Seconds away from the door Harry lost the battle with his bladder, piss spurting from his pants so quickly the stream was arching away from him, hitting Draco.

 

Sobbing now, he tried to shove Draco away, but the blonde refused to let go, instead continuing his trek to the bathroom.

 

Once inside the doors Draco still didn't put the wetting Gryffindor down, instead he spelled the doors closed and held the boy tight. He felt the wetness spread from the boy to him, but didn't care. He didn't want Harry to think that a little pee would ruin their newfound friendship.

 

Harry, upset and still wetting with gusto, clung to Draco, burying his face in the crook of Draco's neck as his body shook in relief. His trousers were soaked, so were Draco's, and a puddle was forming on the floor, but still the urine kept flowing. Finally, his pee slowed down, spurting out final dribbles until he was left empty.

 

He was snaking now, but for a different reason.

 

"Draco," he gasped out, "Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. Don't leave me. Please, I'll be good."

 

His fear caused him to revert back to his time at the Dursley's, and he clutched at Draco's clothes, begging with the older boy not to hurt him.

 

"Shush, Harry. It's okay, I'll never hurt you. It's not your fault. I don't care that you pissed on me. I'd let you piss on me every day of the week if it meant keeping your friendship." Draco kept murmuring calming words into his friend's ear, rocking him gently, one hand stroking the boy's soft raven colored hair.

 

Harry finally looked up at Draco, sniffling. "You really don't care? I peed on you, you should care."

 

"It's only pee, Harry. It can be cleaned up easily with magic. See?" Speaking a simple cleaning spell, Draco waved his wand, their clothes drying and the puddle disappearing.

 

Harry realized that Draco was still holding him and moved to be put down. The other boy complied, but kept his arms wrapped around him, knowing he still needed comfort.

 

Pulling Harry into a hug, Draco kissed his forehead. Harry was shocked at the gesture. No one kissed him, ever. Well, except for Cho Chang, but that barley counted.

 

Feeling the warmth radiating from the blue-eyed blonde, Harry leaned in, wrapping his arms around Draco and settling his head over his chest, content for the first time in a long time.

 

 

 

AN: I won't do many author's notes, but I just wanted to send out a big thank you to those of you who have been following and reviewing my story. I never even expected readers, much less positive reviewers! I also probably will not be updating again until Monday since I'll be away for the weekend and will probably be too busy. I've got a few more chapters written though, and I'll post one as soon as I get back. Thanks again guys! Much love to yahs. :)

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Before I get to the next chapter I just want to thank everyone for the positive reviews. You guys are great and make me want to keep writing. :)

 

 

Chapter 6

 

They stayed that way for a long time, reluctant to separate from one another. The warm embrace was calming to Harry, and he didn’t want to lose that. The only thing that motivated him to pull away was the knowledge that Ron and Hermione would soon come looking for him, if they weren’t already. With that thought in mind, Harry slowly pulled out of the other boy’s embrace, smiling shyly.

 

“Thanks for, um, well thanks for helping me out. Again.” Harry spoke softly.

 

“It’s weird. Last week I wouldn’t have cared and now… Well now I can’t stop caring. I just…” Draco trailed off, not sure what to say; he’d never been in this position before.

 

“I know.” Harry ducked his head, trying to his hide the slight blush he knew was on his face. “Well, I better go. Ron and Hermione, y’know. They’ll come looking if I don’t show up soon.”

 

“Don’t want them to think the evil Slytherins got you.”

 

Harry chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He unlocked the door, and, with a final glance back at Draco, headed to find his friends.

 

“Can’t wait,” murmured Draco at Harry’s retreating back.

 

 

 

That night Harry lay awake thinking about the weekend. He was excited, more than he should be probably, but he couldn’t place why exactly he was so excited to see Draco. Just last week they had been enemies; it was what landed them in this predicament in the first place. Harry had never become such fast friends with someone before. Not even Ron, whom he hit off with right away. He hadn’t trusted Ron like he did with Draco after only one weekend and he didn’t understand it.

 

Harry supposed it wasn’t something he had to worry about. Somehow, it worked and he just knew he could believe in Draco to be there for him.

 

Just as he was beginning to drift off Harry felt the urge to pee. It had hit him quickly and strongly, telling Harry two things. One, after the incidents this past week his bladder had grown weaker, and two, he would have to move soon to prevent an accident.

 

He knew he should get up and go to the loo, but he was just so comfortable and so close to sleep he didn’t want to ruin it by moving. He laid there for a few more minutes, becoming more comfortable and more urgent with each passing second. Not wanting to move he didn’t even try to stop the first trickle of urine from wetting his boxers. It felt almost… good to just let it happen. No one was there, or at least, awake, and he had his curtains drawn. He didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing the wet spot. In fact, Harry didn’t really have to worry at all. He had his wand, and like he did every morning, he could simply say a spell and have his nighttime accident disappear.

 

Spurred on by this new thought, Harry lay still. If he got up he’d be completely awake again, just when he had begun to feel drowsy. And really, what was the point? Even if he got up for the loo now, his sheets would end up wet in the morning anyway. Why not just let it happen?

 

Content, Harry let go, willingly wetting himself for the first time.

 

Hot liquid quickly drenched his threadbare boxers, and, with nothing more to absorb it, flooded his sheets and mattress, pooling around Harry’s arse in a warm embrace. The act gave him a sense of serenity, and he felt sleep taking him. He surrendered, letting the acrid smell of his urine give him pleasure for once.

 

 

 

Harry woke late the next morning, drifting slowly from sleep to wakefulness.

 

“Hey, mate, you better get up if you want time for breakfast. Everyone else is gone already.” Neville’s voice brought him to full consciousness.

 

“Alright, thanks Nev.”

 

“Want me to wait for you?”

 

“Nah, it’s okay. Go on ahead. I still need to pack for this weekend.”

 

Harry heard the sounds of Neville leaving, relaxing back into the bed. He was right about wetting again in the night; his sheets were especially soaked this morning, but yet Harry didn’t want to leave them.

 

Thinking about last night’s wetting reminded Harry that he needed to use the loo quite urgently, like he did every morning. He was about to get up when a through struck him. Why not just pee in bed again? It prevented a trip to the loo and an advanced cleaning charm would get him as clean as a shower would. He’d have enough time to pack and still eat breakfast. And, Harry admitted to himself, he kind of liked the freeing feeling of just going in his bed.

 

Deciding, Harry opened the floodgates, letting the feeling of hot urine surround him once more. He almost moaned at the feeling, his dick taking notice as the pleasure took over his brain. He had to think of Filch to keep himself from growing too hard to finish wetting, but when the final dribbles hit his boxers he couldn’t stop himself from reaching his hand down, cupping himself through his sodden boxers.

 

He did moan this time, his cock growing harder at his touch. Rubbing himself through his underwear, Harry moved his hips slightly, feeling the cooling urine slosh around him. The feeling went straight to his penis as it strained into his hand. Harry slipped his hand into his boxers, knowing he’d have to be quick about this, the only downside to living in a dorm with four other guys who could walk in at any moment.

 

He played with the slit for a moment, mixing the precum with the droplets of urine left behind. Harry threw his hand back into him pillow and began to stoke himself in earnest, from base to top again, rubbing his thumb over the slit with each stroke. Thrusting his hips into his hand made the golden liquid beneath him tickle his balls and made his cock throb painfully. Stroking himself harder, just this side of painful, Harry moved his left hand to fondle his balls, rolling them in his hand and feeling the heavy weight of them. It was enough to push him over the edge. Harry let out a loud moan, bucking into his hand as he came hard, using his semen to milk out every last drop before collapsing back into his bed.

 

After the bliss wore off Harry felt the beginnings of shame at getting off in a puddle of his own pee, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t have time for such thoughts, he needed to pack for his weekend in the room with Draco. He grabbed his wand, uttered a few quick cleaning spells, and hastened to his trunk, pulling out his duffle bag and shoving clothes and books into it.

 

He barely made it to breakfast, only having time enough to eat a piece of toast and a few bites of oatmeal before Hermione was dragging him off to class, insisting that today’s Transfiguration lesson was going to be particularly interesting, as they were learning about animagus transformations. Harry disagreed, knowing they’d spend several lessons on theory before they actually tried the spell, but followed Hermione to class, knowing it would be much easier not to argue.

 

 

He was right; the class was a dud. He idly copied notes, but spent more time thinking about Sirius and his dad then about the lesson at hand. He couldn’t help wondering that if his dad or godfather were would they have taught him this? They were both animagi and Harry couldn’t help but think that James and Sirius would have taught him how to first chance they got. Harry would never know. He and Sirius never had the chance to spend much time together before he died, and he couldn’t even remember his dad.

 

Harry was stuck in a funk the rest of the morning, Sirius and his parents not far from his thoughts. Even the prospect of seeing Draco in a few hours didn’t cheer him up too much. He shuffled through his classes in a sad daze. He was alone on his way to the Great Hall for lunch, Ron and Hermione still in the common room fighting about… something. Harry couldn’t remember what, they were always fighting about something and he eventually just stopped paying attention.

 

Turning a corner, Harry was startled at a hand reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulder, pulling him into a small alcove. He had his wand half drawn before he realized that it was Draco standing in front of him, not an enemy.

 

“What are you doing? What if someone sees and it gets back to McGonagall?” Harry whispered, looking around.

 

“Relax, no one’s around. They’re all in the Great Hall or their common rooms, and this passage is pretty unused.”

 

“Won’t you be missed?” asked Harry.

 

“I won’t stay long. I just wanted to see you. You looked so sad today in class. What’s wrong, Harry?” Concern shone through the piercing ice blue eyes in front of him.

 

“Nothing really. It’s just. I donno if you knew or not, but my dad and godfather were unregistered animagi. McGonagall’s lesson just sort of made me think about them. About how it could have been if they were alive.” Harry felt tears threatening to fall but refused them. He’s already cried in front of Draco too much, he didn’t want the blonde to think him a wuss and get tired of him.

 

“Oh, Harry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were animagi. But that’s so cool. Maybe it’ll be genetic, McGonagall says that not everyone will be able to transform but if you’ve got a relative that does then the chances are higher. It would be wicked if you did. I wonder what you would be.”

 

Draco’s enthusiasm caused Harry to smile. There was something about the older boy that was so captivating, his mere presence lifting Harry’s spirits.

 

“We better go before someone comes looking.” He said.

 

"You're right. I'll see you after last class." Draco smiled brightly at him. He leaned close to Harry, causing the younger boy to think Draco was going to hug him again, when instead his lips met Harry's for the second time in as many days. Leaving the alcove Draco took off in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry waited a minute, then left, happier then he'd been since first class.

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Chapter 7

 

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Draco. He kept wondering if the kiss on his forehead meant anything, or if it was just friendly. Harry had no previous relationship experience unless you counted Cho, which he didn’t, really, because one bad kiss did not constitute a relationship. Harry hadn’t even thought about being attracted to guys before, the thought never occurred to him. Now he didn’t know if he was attracted to Draco or if he just wanted the affection that he never received as a child. Even Molly Weasley never truly treated him as one of her own, he didn’t get the kisses hello and goodbye that the Weasley children received, although he reveled in the few hugs she did give him. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were the only people who had ever hugged him before, had ever bestowed any affection upon him, so he was doubly confused as to what to do about Draco.

 

Harry mentally shook himself before he got into another funk, trying to focus on Tonks’ lecture. Harry still couldn’t get used to calling her “Professor”, especially when she showed up to class with purple hair, pig’s ears, and cat whiskers. He was happy they had a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor after last year’s disaster with Umbridge teaching.

 

Throughout the lecture, Harry kept glancing over at the back of Draco’s head. Thoughts about the kiss aside, he couldn’t wait for their second weekend together. He simply wanted to spend more time getting to know his new friend, and to be able to truly be himself as he couldn’t with anyone else.

 

Class finally came to an end, and, it being their last class of the day, Harry hurried off to the Gryffindor common room to grab his weekend bag, before dashing to Professor McGonagall’s room. He made it there before Draco, meeting McGonagall in the corridor, where she was waiting for them. Harry had to remember to look sullen, as if he didn’t want to go back to the room again. They only had to wait a minute before Draco appeared, snotty look on his face as he, too, remembered to keep up appearances.

 

Without a word, McGonagall lead the two boys back to their room, and, with a swish of her wand, unlocked the door. She held out her hand, indicating for them to give her their wands. They complied, looking reluctant, although Harry wasn’t too sure how good of a job he was doing. He often wore his heart on his sleeve, but hoped that he was doing a good enough job of hiding his true feelings. He didn’t want to ruin this.

 

McGonagall nodded to the boys, and with an impatient gesture, waved the two into the room.

 

“Behave,” she warned, then locked the two inside.

 

They waited to hear her footsteps retreat, and, when they could hear her no longer, turned to each other with wide grins.

 

“We did it!” Harry all but giggled.

 

“Yeah, we’re really pulling it off.”

 

“So, what do you want to do first?” Harry asked, a little awkwardly now that they were there.

 

“Shall we get homework out of the way so we have the rest of the weekend to ourselves?” Draco asked.

 

 

“Sounds like a good plan. Snape’s assignment will be hell. Not to mention Binns’ readings and McGonagall’s essay on the qualities of animagi.”

 

“I’ve got three feet on Ancient Runes to do, too.”

 

“Well, let’s get started then.” Harry groaned.

 

 

 

Three hours later Harry and Draco had finished everything but Binns’ readings, which they were currently taking turns reading out loud, with each turn reading in a tone mimicking one of their professors. The best one was Draco reading in Flitwick’s squeaky voice, although Draco assured Harry that his Trelawney impression was pretty spot on.

 

Midway through the last chapter and Draco’s impression of Madame Hooch, Harry began to feel the first urges to pee, but ignored them, not wanting to ruin the fun. They were almost done the chapter anyway, he could wait that long, surely.

 

Not five minutes later he was ready to eat his words. The urge to pee went from barley there, to bad, to getting desperate quicker than Harry had thought possible. If he hadn’t needed to piss so badly he would have taken time to reflect that over the past week he had held it in far too long and probably weakened his bladder quite a bit.

Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer Harry interrupted Draco midway through the fifteenth goblin rebellion.

 

“Draco, I gotta pee. Can you…?” He trailed off as another wave of desperation hit him.

 

“Of course, Harry. Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

 

Harry jumped off the couch, feeling the first dribbles of piss escape. Holding onto his penis tightly and crossing his legs as much as he could, he quickly hobbled over to the loo, feeling a few more dribbles escape as he did.

 

Finally reaching the loo, he closed the door, desperately trying to undo his trousers and place himself in front of the toilet. At the sight of the toilet so near, his bladder got excited and let loose a small squirt of liquid into his boxers, dampening them. It was much harder to undo a belt with only one hand, but Harry knew there was no way he could let go of himself in order to use two hands to undo the belt. There’d be no point if he did, he’d lose control the second he let go.

 

Harry got his belt undone, and was working on his zipper when a second squirt let go. Groaning, he tried to keep control of himself. Shoving his pants and boxers down just as he lost complete control, Harry’s bladder erupted, spurting hot piss over the floor and toilet seat before he could aim properly.

 

Just as he finished he heard Draco shuffle by the bathroom door.

 

“Harry, did you, uh, did you make it in time?” Came the hesitant voice.

 

Harry looked down and his damp boxers and wet floor, but was heartened at the fact that he did, mostly, make it.

 

“Uh, mostly. But my boxers are kinda wet. Could you, um, well, could you bring me a clean pair?” He called shyly through the door.

 

“Of course.”

 

Harry busied himself with taking off his boxers, using them to mop up the mess he’d left before chucking them into the hamper. Draco knocked on the door once, then opened it, hand pushing through the crack to pass Harry his boxers.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem. Don’t wait that long again, okay Harry?”

 

“Sorry,” Harry said quietly, ashamed.

 

“It’s nothing to be sorry about,” Draco said as Harry opened the bathroom door, once again dressed. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself. You don’t need to wait for my permission to use the loo, just go when you have to, okay?” He grasped Harry’s hand, turning the younger boy toward him.

 

“Okay. I promise.” Harry said, mesmerized by the piercing blue stare.

 

“Good. Now come on. That goblin war was just getting interesting. I think they were just about to form another treaty.” He joked.

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Chapter 8

 

Harry woke the next morning to shouts from an excited Draco.

 

“Harry, come on, wake up and look outside!” Even though they were technically located somewhere in the dungeons, they had an enchanted window that showed them an accurate picture of what was outside.

 

He got out of bed, noting that once again, he had wet the bed. Knowing Draco wouldn’t mind, he trodded over to where Draco stood by the window to see what the other boy was so excited about.

 

Looking out the window, Harry saw a foot or more of snow, the first of the season. A huge grin spread over his face, matching Draco’s.

 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Draco asked. “I love winter, always have. My favorite time of the year.”

 

“It matches your hair and complexion. No one’d ever find you out there if you didn’t want to be found.” Harry teased.

 

“Hush,” Draco pretended to be irritated, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He gently shoved the other boy, then caught Harry in his arms as Harry went to retaliate. He pulled the smaller boy into his arms, wrapping his arms around Harry from behind and pulling him close, not caring that Harry’s bottom was still wet and smelling of piss. Harry was the perfect height for him, and Draco was able to rest his chin on the top of Harry’s bushy head.

 

Harry leaned into the embrace, feeling warmer than he ever had. They fit perfectly together.

 

The two boys stayed quiet for a long time, until Harry’s bladder started urgently signaling to him that he needed the loo. He reluctantly started to pull away from Draco, but the blond refused to let go, pulling Harry back into his embrace with a small whine of protest.

 

“Draco, let go. I need to use the bathroom bad.”

 

“Don’t wanna let go, you’re comfy.”

 

“I’m gonna wet if you don’t let go.” Harry squirmed and lowered a hand to his groin for emphasis.

 

“Don’t care. You’re already wet from the night anyway, and you’ve dripped all over the floor already. We’re going to have clean up a mess later, might as well make it worth it.”

 

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Draco wanted him to wet… on purpose?

 

He voiced his last thought, not comprehending why Draco would possibly want to deal with Harry’s messes more than he already had to, and without a wand to make cleaning it up easier.

 

“I don’t want to let you go.” Draco sighed into Harry’s hair, breath tickling and warm. “It’s just pee, we can use your bed sheets to clean up the mess later. Just let it go, you know it does not matter to me.”

 

“But, it might get on you.”

 

“You’ve peed on me before.”

 

“But not on purpose.”

 

Draco turned Harry’s head around to look at him. “Harry, I will never fault you for wetting. Ever. No matter if it’s an accident or on purpose. Your bladder is weak and you can’t hold it very long. It is NOT your fault.”

 

Harry opened his mouth to protest again, but Draco silenced him by leaning down and pressing his lips to Harry’s. He gasped into the kiss, surprised, and Draco used the gasp to gently urge Harry’s mouth farther open, getting the full taste of the smaller boy. Harry turned around completely, pressing himself closer to Draco, arms going around his neck and grabbing a fistful of blonde hair. It was softer than it looked.

 

They spent several long moments tasting each other before Harry pulled away as his bladder sent a sharp signal to his brain, reminding him that he needed to go now.

 

“Draco…”

 

“Just let go, love.” Draco urged before he captured Harry’s mouth again, intent on exploring every inch of the other boy, morning breath or not.

 

Harry groaned into the kiss and let go, hot piss re-wetting his pajama pants and soaking Draco’ too, for they were pressed so close they might as well have been one person.

 

Draco let out a loud noise at the feel of Harry’s hot urine soaking his pants and running down his legs. The feeling of the hot body and warm piss went straight to Draco’s dick, which grew hard in his boxers. Not sure how Harry would react to his erection, he tried to pull away, only to have Harry follow him, pulling at his hair to keep him close.

 

Harry was surprised at Draco’s reaction to his wetting, but also excited, thinking back to the other morning when he got off in a puddle of his own pee. He felt Draco move away, but was having none of it, and pushed closer. He pushed his hips into Draco’s hard cock, feeling himself begin to lengthen and grow hard as well. He tried to control himself; if he got too hard he wouldn’t be able to finish peeing.

 

He held off until the last trickles escaped, then thrust his growing erection into Draco’s, grinding hard as he pushed his tongue back into the eager mouth before him.

Draco let the younger boy take control of the kiss for a minute, until Harry moved to start licking at his neck. He found the sensitive spot beneath his ear and went to town, sucking and licking at that one spot until a bruise formed.

 

Draco had enough of the teasing. He picked up the smaller boy, pushing him until his back was against the wall. Harry wrapped his legs around Draco’s waist, lips meeting lips as Draco ground his cock into Harry’s. Harry pushed back, gasping at the wonderful friction. The two began to meet harder and faster as their orgasms grew closer, teeth scraping and hands moving over every available surface.

 

“So close, Draco, ugh, harder.” Harry broke apart from Draco, trying to regain his breath.

 

Lips met skin as Draco attached himself to Harry’s neck, biting and sucking, drawing several bruises as his hips moved faster.

 

“So close. Fuck, ugh, fuuuck, Draco, gonna, gonna cuuuum!” The word ended in a wail as Harry’s orgasm ripped through his body. He bucked into Draco, throwing his head back in ecstasy. Draco’s  mouth followed, once again meeting Harry’s lips in a fierce kiss as Harry’s orgasm brought on his own. Thrusting fast into Harry, the blonde milked out their orgasms until they were both spent.

 

Gasping, they pulled apart from each other slightly, just enough so they could catch their breath, lips still close enough to touch.

 

Draco leaned against Harry heavily, legs having a hard time supporting them both.

 

After several minutes, Draco pulled away from Harry, just enough to properly look at the beautiful boy before him.

 

“Was that okay?” He asked, a little uncertainly. Had they moved too fast?

 

“Merlin, Draco, that was… that was perfect.” Harry said, caught between shyness and trying to reassure the other boy.

 

“Good,” Draco smiled, leaning in to gently kiss those red lips again.

 

 

 

Later that morning, when they were showered and dressed, mess cleaned from Harry’s bed and the floor, the two teens cuddled into each other, feeding each other fruit from their breakfast tray.

 

Harry couldn’t remember ever being this happy and blissful. When he was with Draco all thoughts of the outside world ceased to exist.

 

“Harry?” Draco’s voice asked quietly as he fed Harry a strawberry.

 

“Hm?” Under some unspoken agreement the two remained quiet, as if speaking loudly would break the spell they seemed to be under.

 

Only, it wasn’t a spell. The feelings were too true to be a spell. Harry knew this for sure or else he would wonder how he fell for his school nemesis so quickly.

 

“Have you ever, uh, done what we did before?”

 

“No. I’ve only ever kissed Cho Change before, and I’ve never even kissed a bloke before.” Under any other circumstances Harry was sure he would feel awkward about his lack of experience, but with Draco it did not seem to matter. “Have you ever?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve rubbed off on a guy before, and we’ve exchange hand jobs, but never anything else.”

 

Harry was a but put off by Draco’s previous encounters, but Draco noticed this and quickly added, “But it’s never meant anything before, not like it did with you.”

 

Harry smiled shyly. “I’ve never felt this way before, about anyone.”

 

“Neither have I.” Draco put down the bowl of fruit, shifting so he was mostly laying down on the sofa, pulling Harry on top of him, running his hands through the boy’s unruly hair.

 

Harry lay his head down on Draco’s chest, the sound of his heartbeat and the feel of hands running through his hair lulling him to sleep.

 

 

 

The two lazed around most of the morning and afternoon, not speaking much but content in simply being near one another.

 

Mid-afternoon, Harry broached a more serious topic.

 

“What are you going to do about Voldemort? Your family are serious supporters; won’t they expect you to be as well?”

 

Draco took a while to respond, not sure at how much he was willing to tell the boy. After mulling it around in his head he decided to tell him everything. After all, Harry had been honest with him, it would only be fair to tell the whole truth as well. Harry might also be able to help him find a solution to his problems as well, after all, he was The Boy Who Lived for a reason.

 

“Actually, mother is the only true supporter of the Dark – Voldemort. Father was, at first, but when Voldemort started to go barking mad, father had enough and wanted out. He’s really more gentle hearted then he portrays himself as, and he could not stomach the murders of innocent children. Father only wanted to keep muggles unaware of us, for he feared the wrong person would discover us and try to destroy us. Voldemort’s views seemed ideal at first, but when he started talking about elimating all of the mudbl – muggleborns,” Draco hastily corrected, “then father tried to find a way out.

 

“But mother was the one who fully supported Voldemort, and she refused to drop her support. She can be just as insane and cold-hearted as Aunt Bella, but she hides it a lot better.”

 

“Why didn’t you dad just leave your mum?” Harry asked.

 

“Me. I was only a baby at the time, a few months old. Father wouldn’t leave me behind and mother was keeping me close, ensuring that father would never leave her. She knew that he loved me, and used it to manipulate him. Mother never cared much for children, and only had me because an heir was required or else the Black line would die out with half-bloods, something she would never stand for.

 

“So father stayed, and then you defeated the Dark Lord, and he thought he was free from it all. Mother locked herself in her room, only emerging to keep up appearances or take long shopping trips to Paris.

 

“When I was five, father fell in love with a half-blood witch from Spain, Daniella. She was wonderful. For the first time ever I felt as if I had a real mum, and she treated me just like her own son. Father wanted to take me and leave my mother, but she found out and grew furious. I’d never seen her so angry. She found Daniella, brought her back to the Manor and murdered her in front of father and I. Then she bound me to her, so father would never be able to take me and leave. I couldn’t leave her side for more than a week of time. Father didn’t know the spell she used, or how to break it. He was sure it came from one of the Black family books, but she never let him near them. When I started school she extended the spell to allow for extended absence, but I’m still bound to her.”

 

“Is there no way to remove it? Have you asked Dumbledore?”

 

“I asked him at the start of the year, when I made my decision on which side I want to be on. After father was sent to prison I knew I couldn’t keep up this charade. He was the only one standing between me and Voldemort. Every time mother tried to get me marked father interfered, saying I was too young. This summer he wasn’t there and mother finally got her way, using father’s life as an incentive.” Draco swallowed hard, tears threatening to spill at the painful memory.

 

“I’m so sorry Draco. It’s my fault he’s there, I know. It never would have happened if I weren’t so stupid and believed the vision Voldemort sent me was real.”

 

“It’s not your fault, you were worried about your godfather.”

 

Harry hugged the Slytherin close. “I still feel partially at fault. I have some say with Dumbledore, maybe I can convince him to try to get your father out of Azakaban.”

 

“I doubt it. After Voldemort’s return, father tried to play him from the inside, tried to find his weakness. He needed to become the Dark Lord’s right hand if he ever had a hope of finding it, and he played his part well. I think mother even began to believe it. There’s no way anyone in their right mind would let Lucius Malfoy out of prison.”

 

“It’s a good thing Fudge is in power then.”

 

Draco looked over at Harry, and, for the first time since the topic had been broached, broke into a wide smile.

 

“Do you really think there’s a chance?”

 

“I’m the Boy Who Lived and Fudge owes me after printing all the rubbish about me last year. I’d reckon there’s a fair chance I’d get my way.”

 

“Harry… That’d be. Thank you.”

 

“Don’t thank me yet, it hasn’t happened. Do you think that you’ll be able to escape Voldemort and your mother if we broke the spell and freed your father?”

 

“For sure, they’re the only two things tying me to that side.”

 

“Then we’ll find a way to do it. I don’t want to lose you.” Harry promised.

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Chapter 9

 

Harry was in a large, windowless room. Dozens of dead bodies surrounded him, their blood painting the walls and dripping from his hands. Frozen with terror, Harry could do nothing but stare at the sight before him, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

 

Something moved at his left, startling him out of his trance and he turned to see what had moved in this dead room.

 

A woman lay gasping for breath, her arm outstretched, reaching for nothing, but desperately trying to do something. She was dying, seconds from death, really. He slowly moved toward her, eerily calm.

 

“Please,” she pleaded, “Please, I have two children, they need me. Please, if you have a heart you’ll let me go to them.”

 

“It’s a good thing I was born without one.” Harry raised his wand and cast Crucio upon her, extending her suffering.

 

The woman’s screams echoed through the room, her body convulsing with pain. It didn’t take but a minute for the screams to die out as the woman succumbed to death.

 

Harry laughed.

 

The sound of his cruel laughter was still ringing through his ears as he raised his wand once more and began mutating the already dead bodies before him.

 

 

“Harry! Harry, wake up! Please, love, wake up. It’s just a dream!”

 

Harry woke up sobbing and thrashing at the body next to him. He struggled against his attacker before realizing two things; one, the body next to him was Draco, and two, his bladder had let loose and he was wetting.

 

He sagged against the pillows, body shaking as he continued to empty his bladder onto his bed. Draco moved closer to Harry, paying no mind to the urine evacuating Harry’s body, and pulled to boy on his lap, cuddling him close.

 

Burring his head into the crook of Draco’s neck, Harry let out a keening cry. His bladder was still emptying itself, now onto Draco. He clung to Draco, comforted by the hands rubbing his back and hair. His bladder finished, but Harry continued to cry for a long while.

 

Draco said nothing, letting Harry take time to shake off the nightmare.

 

As the cries died down, Harry’s breathing evened out, signalling that he had fallen asleep in Draco’s arms.

 

Draco sighed. He wanted to know what had caused friend – were they still friends now or had they moved past that? – such terror. He had woken up to screams so terrible and fear-ridden he thought Voldemort had somehow gotten into their room and was torturing Harry. When he found Harry thrashing in the next bed it took him a moment to act, surprised that one nightmare could cause a person such agony.

 

He only spared a moment with that thought, for Harry chose that second to arch up from his bed, body shaking with fright.

 

Draco acted, trying to keep him voice calm as he had shaken Harry awake. The other boy didn’t speak, but clearly took a moment to find his surroundings. Draco had taken a hit to his chest before Harry had calmed. Once Draco had been sure Harry would no longer attack him, he had pulled the frightened and wetting boy to him, holding onto the other boy in hopes of taking away some of his pain.

 

Draco didn’t know what caused the nightmare, but he knew he wasn’t letting go of Harry any time soon, so he settled down into Harry’s bed, tucking Harry’s sleeping form in close as he pulled the less damp comforter over them.

 

 

 

Draco didn’t get any more sleep that night, instead lying awake fretting about Harry. The younger boy seemed to have no such problem, sleeping soundly pressed up against Draco. By dawn, Harry had his legs tangled up with Draco’s, his hand had slid under Draco’s t-shirt, and his head was resting against Draco’s chest. Sometime before dawn, Draco had begun to cramp up, arm falling asleep as Harry lay on it, but Draco refused to move, not wanting to disturb the brunet’s sleep, nor particularly wanting to push away the beautiful boy beside him. He wanted to keep Harry as close to him as humanly possible. Parting ways on Monday morning was beginning to seem more and more impossible.

 

By mid-morning, Harry began to stir, much to Draco’s delight as his own bladder was urging him to use the loo.

 

Harry snuffled cutely, snuggling his head closer to the blonde.

 

Harry slowly woke, immediately noticing that he was half draped over Draco. He idly rubbed his hand in small circles over Draco’s ribs as he looked up at the older boy sleepily.

 

“Morning,” Harry said softly.

 

“Good morning, love.” Draco replied, pressing a kiss to Harry’s lips.

 

“I’m sorry that I woke you up last night. That happens sometimes.” Harry said, remembering the dream terrors from last night.

 

“What was that? I’ve never seen someone have a nightmare like that before. Must have been pretty bad.”

 

“Mmm.” Harry agreed, fingers lazily tickling Draco’s side.

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

 

“It was Voldemort.” Harry said after a minute.

 

“You had a nightmare about Old Voldie? Understandable, I guess, considering he’s always trying to kill you.”

 

“That’s not it. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.”

 

“What?” Draco pulled away slightly, shifting their bodies so they were laying side by side, face to face.

 

“I have this… connection with Voldemort. Mental connection I mean. Because of the scar, or so Dumbledore thinks. He can send me visions, like last year when Sirius…. And more often, I can see things. Things he does as he’s doing them, I don’t think Voldemort knows he’s sending me visions. It’s usually connected with a powerful memory, hate or rage most often. This time it was different. He was weirdly calm.”

 

“What did he do in your, er, vision?” Draco was hesitant to ask.

 

“He was in this room with no windows. He had killed a bunch of muggleborns and muggles connected to the wizarding world. I recognized a few of them. One woman was still alive and he Cruicoed her to death. He… did things to the bodies after they were dead. I don’t know what. I didn’t recognize the spells, and woke up before anything else happened.”

 

“Whoa.” Draco was sickened at the thought that Harry had to see all that. “Do you get these visions a lot?”

 

“More often recently, since the summer. I’ve got to write a note to Dumbledore and let him know what I saw. Sometimes it helps the Order to know what he’s planning or who he’s killed. I should write it right away, the sooner the better. Plus, I really need to pee.” Harry added with a shy grin.

 

“Me too, so hurry up. You’ve been laying on my bladder all morning.” Draco grinned back.

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I think Draco should wet next chapter..... Just saying.  

Excellent work , I dont understand though this is a Drarry fic, right ? But your user id is alwayssnarry why are you not writing hot omorashi scenes between harry and snape. It has been done, not that it is preferable , but you have the talent to do so and I would love to see another snarry omorashi . I have only seen so few.

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I think Draco should wet next chapter..... Just saying.  

Excellent work , I dont understand though this is a Drarry fic, right ? But your user id is alwayssnarry why are you not writing hot omorashi scenes between harry and snape. It has been done, not that it is preferable , but you have the talent to do so and I would love to see another snarry omorashi . I have only seen so few.

 

Does Draco never pee his pants...? :D LOVE THIS STORY!

 

To answer your questions, I'm not sure if I'm going to make Draco wet or not. I've set it up in this chapter just in case I do decide to take the story in that direction, but I'm still not sure if I want to go there or not. Right now, Draco just likes to get off on Harry's wetting.

 

To answer MalfoysFangirl, althouh Snarry in my number one ship, Drarry is a close second. When I decided to first start writing fanfic I decided to do a Drarry, since I'm not sure how in-character I'd be able to make Snape. Someday, maybe even some day soon, I shall write an omo Snarry, just not today. After I'm done with this fic possibly.

 

Anyway, thank you both for reviewing, always puts a smile on my face to see a positive review.

 

x's, Always

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Throughout the day, Harry shared more tidbits of information about his connection with Voldemort with Draco. He told Draco about how his scar hurt every time Voldemort was near, about the night in the graveyard, Arthur Weasley’s attack, and Sirius’ death. In turn, Draco shared more of what it was like growing up with Death Eaters as parents, even if his father wasn’t one by choice.

 

Late that afternoon the two boys were dozing on the couch, stirring briefly only long enough to press a kiss to the other’s lips. Harry was cuddled up on top of Draco thinking that there was no place he would rather be. Draco was lightly trailing his fingers over Harry’s spine when Harry felt the first twinge of his bladder. Comfortable and not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment by moving, Harry ignored it in favor of nipping at Draco’s ear playfully.

 

“Mmm, Harry, feels good.” The blonde boy murmured.

 

Harry giggled, moving to kiss the other boy’s lips. Draco deepened the kiss, loving the mint chocolate taste of the Gryffindor.

 

The two lazily kissed for several moments, until Draco noticed Harry’s squirming on top of him – and not in a sexual way either. Draco knew immediately that his boyfriend needed the bathroom, but was either ignoring it or hadn’t noticed yet.

 

He broke apart from the smaller boy, causing Harry to moan in protest and try to chase his lips.

 

“Harry,” Draco was breathing heavily. “Do you need to use the loo?”

 

Harry’s bladder had indeed been signalling him more and more over the past few minutes, but Harry was enjoying himself much too much to listen to it.

 

“No,” Harry tried to lie.

 

“I could feel you fidgeting, I know you have to go.”

 

“Don’t wanna,” Harry whined, “You’re so comfortable, I don’t want to move.”

 

“You don’t want to have an accident. You always get upset when you do.” Draco didn’t want to ruin the moment more by causing the other boy to grow upset, but knew that wetting often caused Harry’s self-esteem to plummet.

 

“You make me feel like I don’t have to be embarrassed.” Harry glanced up shyly at the boy.

 

“You never have to be.” The blonde promised, kissing Harry’s forehead sweetly.

 

Harry cuddled into Draco further. “Good. Can I stay here then?”

 

“Yes.”

 

After a moment of silence, Harry brought up something he’d been wondering for a while.

 

“Draco…  Have you ever wet before?”

 

“Not since I was a kid. Mother insisted that I be potty trained as soon as possible. She hated diapers, thought they were unbecoming or something/” Draco answered.

 

“So you’ve never had an accident like I have?”

 

“No, I don’t ever remember accidentally wetting.”

 

“What about on purpose wetting… Like I did before.”

 

“Again, no. If mother found out she would have thrown a fit. She was prone to them when things weren’t spotless or didn’t go her way.”

 

After a moment, Draco continued. “Why do you want to know, Harry?”

 

“I guess I just, I donno. I guess I just wanted to know I’m not alone with this.” Harry said softly.

 

“You’re not, Harry. I’m sure someone somewhere has the same problem you do.”

 

“I guess.” Harry squirmed a little more as his bladder began to protest more urgently.

 

“Even if you’re the only one ever, Harry, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter. I’d still really like you anyway.”

 

“You really like me?” Harry asked shyly, looking up at Draco with wide eyes.

 

“Yeah. I really like you. A lot.” Draco knew he was turning a little red at the statement, but it was worth it to see Harry’s eyes light up the way they did.

 

“I really like you a lot too.” Harry said.

 

Draco reached up to pull the other boy’s head towards his, lips meeting as they met in a passionate kiss. They kissed for several more long minutes, Draco’s hands moving up underneath Harry’s shirt, feeling the strong muscles he gained from playing Quidditch.

 

Draco pulled the shirt up further, over Harry’s head, wanting to feel the younger boy without a pesky shirt in the way. Harry must have felt the same way, because, within seconds of Harry’s shirt disappearing, Harry was tugging at Draco’s shirt as if it offended him. Draco moved to dispose quickly of the item, immediately latching back onto Harry’s lips before his shirt hit the floor.

 

Harry, lost in the kiss and feel of Draco, forgot about his bladder until, with a sharp pain of protest, a stream of pee forced its way out into Harry’s boxers.

 

Gasping, Harry pulled away. “Draco, I –”

 

“I know. Just let it go.” He pulled the other boy back to meet him.

 

Harry lost himself again, this time doubly in the perfect kiss and the wonderful relief of releasing his bladder.

 

Draco moaned into Harry as he felt the hot liquid escape from Harry and pour onto him. He never thought it would be as much of a turn-on as it was, and he felt the beginning twitches from his dick as the hot piss ran through his jeans and over his cock.

 

Harry rubbed up against Draco, spreading his piss over them. Draco reached down to Harry’s jeans, fingers brushing over the wet denim, pausing over the button.

 

“Can I?” he asked.

 

At Harry’s nod, Draco made quick work of undoing Harry’s jeans, pulling them and his boxers down in one swift motion, Harry lifting his body up to help.

 

Harry was still peeing, and Draco gasped at the sensation of hot piss hitting his bare skin. Fully hard now, Draco couldn’t stop himself from bucking his hips up to meet Harry’s, moaning at the pure feeling of bliss.

 

Harry was glad he was almost done peeing, because he, too, was growing hard. Draco’s beauty alone could cause that reaction, but when the blonde started rubbing against him Harry was a goner.

 

Just as the last drops were escaping, Draco bucked into Harry particularly hard, turning Harry into a pile of mush and turning his dick rock hard. Harry reached down to Draco’s soaking jeans, putting a hand on Draco’s erect member and rubbing. Letting out a particularly loud moan, Draco thrust up into Harry’s greedy hand. After several thrusts, Harry gently squeezed the outline of Draco’s cock, deciding that he wanted to see more than the outline. Moving his hand to the zipper, Harry looked at the keening blonde, silently asking if it was okay.

 

“Please,” the other boy groaned out.

 

Harry quickly undid his lover’s jeans, pulling them down as far as they could go without with boy moving. Pressing his cock into Draco’s, now free without any barriers, the two formed a rhythm, thrusting into each other, gasping and moaning all the while. It was the most incredible thing Harry had ever felt, and he didn’t think he would last very long.

 

“Oh, Merlin, Draco, feel so good.”

 

“Ugh, Harry,” the blonde’s hands came to rest on Harry’s arse, squeezing the cheeks lovingly.

 

“Draaaco,” Harry gasped out, loving the feel of hands there.

 

Urged on, Draco moved a finger lower, to rest just above Harry’s puckered entrance.

 

“Draco, please, do it.” Harry was torn between bucking into Draco’s hard and weeping cock, or his teasing finger, wanting to feel more of both, and insanely curious to how having a finger there would feel.

 

Draco teased his hole gently, knowing he couldn’t do too much without lube, he didn’t want to hurt the other boy. He pressed a finger to Harry’s hole, circling, but barely breaching.

 

Harry was so close, if only Draco would stop teasing him!

 

“Draco, want your finger in me. Wanna feel it in me.” Harry all but cried.

 

“Don’t have any lube, don’t want it to hurt you.”

 

Harry moaned, but paused to concentrate, hoping he could perform the spell without a wand. He had never tried this particular spell before. He knew the instant it worked because he could feel cool liquid in and surrounding his puckered entrance.

 

“There. Now fuck me with your finger!” Harry demanded, attacking Draco’s neck, intent on sucking a new bruise.

 

Draco spared a thought at Harry’s display of wandless magic, but when Harry pushed his arse up to meet his fingers, all thoughts left his mind. He slowly circled the needy hole, pushing the tip inside.

 

“Nugh,” Harry moaned into Draco’s neck. “More. Want more.”

 

Pushing his finger all of the way in, Draco slowly fucked his lover with a finger, gradually adding a second. After a few moments of searching Draco found what he was looking for, causing Harry to near scream as his prostate was grazed for the first time. Twice more was all Harry could take before he was cumming all over the blonde, biting into the blonde’s shoulder as his body shuddered. Draco felt the hot, sticky liquid cover his stomach and cock, and that was all he needed to join Harry in ecstasy, cumming with Harry’s name on his lips.  

 

Harry collapsed onto Draco, completely spent, his whole body tingling.

 

“That was…”

 

“Incredible.” Draco finished.

 

“Very much so. When can we do it again?”

 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to move in the next few minutes, much less get it up again.” The blonde laughed.

 

The brunet fake pouted, but knew Draco was right. There was no way he would be able to move again so soon after the best orgasm of his life.

 

Eventually, the two had to move or risk getting stuck together with dried cum. They made their way to the bathroom to shower, where they washed each other down, exchanging kisses, and inevitably, rubbed each other to completion once again.

 

The two went to bed that night, knowing that they simply had to find a way to spend more time together over the week. Harry was quickly growing addicted to the beautiful blonde boy.

Edited by AlwaysSnarry (see edit history)
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