The First Time: :
Seven minutes in heaven. That's what Hermione called it. Some muggle game she heard people played at parities. Apparently, the whole point was to get locked in a closet with someone that was picked randomly. Also, apparently, there was supposed to be snogging.
Harry wasn't sure what had possessed Hermione to suggest the game and in front of everyone during dinner in the Great Hall, but the idea seemed to take root in the minds of his fellow classmates.
After the war, Harry and the some Hogwarts classmates involved in the fight were brought back to finish their seventh year. This smaller group was lumped together, as opposed to being separated by houses, because they, as McGonagall claimed, shared an experience that the other students could not understand. The point being that the smaller group would somehow help with adjusting back into the swing of every day life. In fact, much of the tension between houses had started to disappear. They were even dangerously close to being friends.
The only problem in Harry's opinion, was that he was forced to live near Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. While Harry could admit that Malfoy had saved his life in part, he couldn't seem to let go of seven years of dirty looks and animosity. Sometimes when he looked at Malfoy, he saw the eleven year old who stole Neville's Rememberall, the boy who laughed when Snape would embarrass him in Potions, the boy who wore the fading mark of a Death Eater.
Ugh. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy and his sniveling smirks and his blond hair. With his perfect robes and his gray eyes that reminded Harry of the smoke that would rise into the twilight lit skies after a fire had been put out. Wait. No, his gray eyes that were devoid of any emotion. Yeah, that felt more like what he had meant to think.
Hermione's voice brought Harry out of his little memory, "So, basically the muggles lock two people in a closet for seven minutes and the people get to snog, or what have you," Hermione said. She looked at Ron the entire time she spoke, blushing. Harry knew the two of them had snogged before, so he wasn't sure what the blushing was all about. Ron looked flushed too. His face almost the same shade of red as his hair. That Weasley hair.
"Sounds like a good bit of fun, Hermione," Seamus added while he gulped down a bit of Firewhisky. The group, a.k.a Hermione, also decided that a bit of drinks to celebrate Christmas was a good idea and no one seemed to disagree, "Let's give it a go then?"
"Oi, how do we pick who goes in with who?" Blaise added. The Slytherin was among the small group of students brought back to finish his seventh year.
The group of repeaters were gathered in the common room after dinner. Most of the other students had gone home for the holidays, leaving the halls of Hogwarts empty and quiet, save for Filch, Mrs. Norris and the ghosts like Sir Nicolas.
Harry wasn't so easily convinced that everyone could get along after so many harsh words and actions, but most of the group seemed to be trying, even Malfoy, though Harry hated to admit it. He figured he could forgive most of the people who sided with Voldemort, but for whatever reason, Malfoy still bothered him. The blond still bickered with Harry like they had when they were eleven, though it did feel different now.
And Harry had to admit he had been thinking of the sniveling prat very often in the last few months. Thinking that Malfoy did have a pretty rough go of it and if anyone deserved sympathy it was probably that git. Thinking about how his little fight with Draco were the most exciting parts of his day and how he even went out of his way to pick a few of the fights when he was bored.
At the very least, Harry couldn't just forget what Malfoy did, even though Hermione and Ron, yes Ron Weasley the most avid Draco Malfoy hater, kept telling Harry that Malfoy did what he had to in order to survive. Harry supposed he could see it that way, maybe.
"Well, how do we decided who goes in the closet first?" Ron asked gulping down a bit of Firewhiskey and eyeing Hermione hungrily.
"Uh, well, I had thought about that," Hermione said. "I know a charm that will make two names appear on a piece of paper. That way its fair."
"F-f-fair?" Neville stammered. "What if we end up with…" Neville didn't have to finish the thought. Most people understood what he meant. No one wanted to end up with someone they secretly liked, or felt uncomfortable with, for that matter.
In fact, Harry was afraid of ending up in the closet with Ginny, who he just recently started to get on with again. After their break-up, things had been tense. No one except Ginny knew the real reason behind their split and Harry wanted to keep it that way. Yes, he had to deal with the Weasley lot being cross with him for a bit, but it passed eventually.
Ginny patted Neville on the back and smiled at him. Harry though about how kind she had been when he told her that he wanted to break-up. He had expected her to be more upset, but instead she was understanding and even admitted that she felt they were better as friends.
Despite their friendship, Harry was not too keen on the idea that he could end up in the closet with Ginny. In fact, the only situation that would be worse than ending up with Ginny was if Harry ended up in that closet with Draco Malfoy.
Harry's eyes instinctively shot to Malfoy, who was…smiling? Or was it a smirk. Of course he would take pleasure in Neville's discomfort. Typical.
"Don't worry Neville," Harry said. "You will be fine. Hermione is brilliant."
"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Harry, but it is random. If you don't feel comfortable with who gets picked you could always choose not to do it," Hermione said, even she was sipping at a glass of Butterbeer because, as she put it, even the brightest witch of their age deserves a break sometimes.
"I suppose that's the beauty of it," Luna added. Her voice all sing-songy as usual. She, unlike the others seemed unchanged by the war. Her eyes still sparkled and Harry found himself feeling grateful for her and her less-than-normal disposition.
"Right, Longbottom, it is okay to back out. Snogging is very scary," Malfoy spoke with an arrogant tone. One that made Harry want to whip out his wand on him. Harry thought better of it and decided that instead he would stare menacingly in Malfoy's direction.
"Anyways," Hermione said, "I think it could be fun. It's a bit daring, don't you think?" The question was asked to everyone, but Hermione was looking right at Ron. Her freckled cheeks scrunched up into a smile and she blushed. Harry could guess who Hermione wanted to get alone for seven minutes in heaven.
"Right then, let's get on with it," Pansy said. "Fire it up, Granger." After Pansy spoke she looked at Neville and winked. At that Neville audibly gulped and the group laughed at his apparent discomfort.
Hermione pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag and waved her wand over it. She didn't need to speak certain spells out loud anymore. Her skills had been honed greatly over the last year.
Harry watched, heart pounding. Why was he so nervous? He had kissed people before. Well, two people. Both hadn't turned out so well to be sure. Cho, well let's not go down that road, and Ginny, who he just broke up with two months ago. Admittedly, he wasn't doing well in that department, so what?
Just as Harry resolved to not care, the first two names appeared on the parchment: Blaise and Luna. Wow, that really was random. Luna smiled and giggled as she paraded toward the closet. Blaise cocked his head to the side and smirked. He followed Luna and as he closed the closet door, he winked at everyone.
Harry felt a bit weird with this. He moved to stand up, but Ron grabbed his arm and shook his head. Harry guessed that Ron knew he was feeling uncomfortable. Why wasn't anyone else uncomfortable with this? Really, what if the next two names to appear were Hermione and, well, and anyone who wasn't Ron? Would his best mate still be holding him back? Harry decided that this game was a bit too daring for his liking, even with his propensity to do foolish things.
The small group had been getting along well enough in classes, but this was the first time the group had done anything you could call social together.
After a few minutes had gone by, Malfoy interrupted a conversation Ron and Dean were having about Quidditch."So, what's the timer at?" Why was he interested? He was never interested. Harry didn't like that Malfoy was somehow interested in this.
"They have a minute," Hermione said.
"Wonder how it's going?" Neville asked. "I mean. Do you think they actually snogged?"
"Knowing Blaise, yeah he's snogged her. Always had a massive hard-on for the weird little thing," Theo said. Harry noticed that Theo sat suspiciously close to Malfoy, knees touching. Something Harry was cross at himself for noticing.
"Really?" Harry spit out. Not that Luna wasn't lovely. He just didn't understand how Blaise could have a crush on her. He was..he..he wasn't…well, he wasn't exactly what Harry would call a nice guy in the strictest of terms, so what would he see in Luna, who was by all accounts the nicest person Harry had met?
"Potter, is it so hard to believe Luna is attractive?" Malfoy said. He snorted as he spoke and it made Harry's face flush red with anger. At least it felt like anger, sort of. Malfoy had taken to responding almost every time Harry made a fool of himself. Honestly, Harry half expected Malfoy to avoid him, but it seemed the Slytherin would much rather pick on him like old times.
Like in Potions, right before break started. The new Potions Master, Leafdrawn, had asked Harry what the properties of Ployjuice were and, of course, Harry did know the answer, but he had been distracted by Malfoy scratching at his desk, so Harry hadn't exactly heard the question and so he responded with Sorry, Professor, but I wasn't pay attention. And Malfoy decided to add It's a wonder you've made it this far, Potter. It seemed to Harry that Malfoy still enjoyed a laugh at his expense, although, Harry had to admit the comebacks weren't exactly as cutting as they had once been. Instead where anger had been, it was now an amused annoyance.
"Oh, that's not what I meant at all," Harry said quickly, looking at Ron and Hermione, who were giving him a weird look now. Great. Probably get a lecture for this later. Hermione had been keen to tell Harry anytime he wasn't being sensitive or friendly to the Slytherins. He was trying, he really was. It was harder with Malfoy, of course, because the prat still got under his skin.
But Hermione was always the voice of reason and had convinced the others, as well as, Harry, that being friendly with certain people was a much better alternative to being mean to them. And if Harry was being honest, Hermione had a bit more of a reason to hate Malfoy than he did, so if she could accept Malfoy and his apologies, maybe Harry could too.
The closet door creaked open and a disheveled Blaise and Luna stumbled out. The pair's faces were flushed red and their hair a bit messy. Harry decided that they must have snogged. Behind him, Pansy, Theo, and Malfoy were whistling and clapping, which only further made the pairs faces blush.
"That was interesting." Luna said to Blaise who just nodded and smiled, putting an arm around Luna. There were weirder things Harry supposed. Like the fact that Draco sodding Malfoy has been watching Harry all night. The Slytherin's gray eyes seemed to be locked on Harry, which wasn't new. Harry and Malfoy had always watched each other when they were in the same room. Harry always watched him because he suspected Draco was up to something, but now he figured it was a leftover reflex from before the war.
Now, it just made for some pretty awkward moments when the two locked eyes. Neither of them pulled their gaze away quickly. Instead the pair always lingered for a moment before pretending that nothing had happened.
Next up, according to the parchment, were Ginny and Dean. Of course. First a wave of relief flew over Harry at not having to be paired up with Ginny. Then a small wave of jealousy hit because he was sure Ginny never really got over Dean. It was more wounded pride than anything else Harry noted. He didn't want Ginny back or anything.
The pair seemed happy that they would get to snog in a closet. They half-walked-half-ran to the closet and shut the door quick behind them.
"Ugh, I wish they didn't have to be so obvious about it," Ron said. "I mean she is my little sister after all. He could at least pretend to not be so excited when he knows I'm 'round."
"So sensitive, Weasley," Malfoy retorted. "Did it bother you as much when it was Potter off to snog your dear sister?"
"Well, no," Ron resigned. "Harry never acted that way with Ginny though. Perfect gentlemen, he was." Ron looked over and smiled at Harry, who was blushing now for a few reasons. One; he did not like to be talked about, especially about his love life, two; the way Ron makes it seem is that Harry wasn't interested in snogging Ginny, and three; Malfoy seemed to enjoy that Harry was clearly embarrassed.
After some time, Ginny and Dean made their way back to the group, both looking positively satisfied. Harry noted that Malfoy looked at them and smirked…no, wait this time it was definitely a smile. Like a normal, human smile. Weird to say the least.
"Okay, who is up next?" Hermione said as she charmed the parchment again. Two names slowly appeared. Hermione's eyes widened and she gasped a bit. Everyone was looking directly at her now. She winced and nudged Ron to look at the paper. Harry watched Ron's eyes light up with surprise and mild disgust. Whose names could possibly be that shocking.
"Erm, Harry," Hermione paused before saying the next name, "and, uh, Draco."
Everyone was silent. The small group all sat with mouths agape. Harry was beyond stunned. He felt his face flush. He felt his heart pounding in his ears, drumming out the murmurs that started rising from the group. He could refuse to go in the closet with Malfoy. But, then why was he kind of feeling the adrenaline pumping in his veins the same way it did right before a Quidditch match?
Harry dared to make eye contact with Malfoy, who was smirking. That stupid smirk. Harry recalled that Malfoy had been wearing that same smirk a few months ago when he showed up at the Burrow to make a formal apology for his involvement in the war. The smirk was a product of Harry stammering through a refusal to accept his apology, which to Harry's surprise had segued into a maybe and then into an okay, you prat, but that doesn't mean I like you. Harry wondered what had made his decision in the end. Mostly, he figured it was the pathetic state of Malfoy when he arrived at the Burrow. Malfoy, who was usually so composed, stood in front of him with messy hair, dark and deep circles around his eyes, robes that hung off him due to recent weight loss, and most notably the look in Malfoy's eyes that seemed to beg, seemed to need Harry to accept his apology.
All in one motion, Malfoy pointed at Harry and then the closet. He was seriously going to go through with it? Merlin's beard. If Harry backs down now, Malfoy will have won. Seems silly, but on some unconscious level, Harry knew he wouldn't let Malfoy win at anything. Not even this.
"Alright then, let's go," Harry said, voice unwavering to his surprise. The rest of the group stayed shocked, with mouths agape, but Malfoy sauntered toward the closet and opened the door for Harry. Malfoy then went so far as to bow as Harry walked past. That smart ass.
Once Malfoy shut the door behind them, it dawned on Harry what he was actually doing. He cursed his pride for putting him in yet another ridiculous situation. He was in a broom closet at Hogwarts with none other than Draco bloody Malfoy. He nemesis. The bane of his existence. His rival in all things. Well, semi-former rival in all things, but still.
Suddenly, Harry realized that he hadn't ever really been alone with Malfoy. Seven bloody years and the closest thing to being alone with the Slytherin was when Harry had cursed Malfoy in the lav in sixth year. Something Harry was not proud of and had attempted an apology for, but never could quite get the words right. He always saw Malfoy surrounded by people, so he never noticed what it felt like to be this close to Malfoy, alone, and this feeling in his gut, the whole fire-burning-stomach-flopping-thing, was a bit weird.
Thinking it would be best to ignore this feeling, Harry reached for the door handle with the hopes of getting out of this predicament as quickly as possible, but Malfoy grabbed his hand. The softness of Malfoy's skin sent a pulse through Harry. Malfoy's skin was like the first coating of a snowfall. Delicate.
Harry's eyes looked up at Malfoy's. Harry's own green eyes rivaling against Malfoy's gray ones. It was a stare he knew well. More than a few times Malfoy and Harry had looked at each other with a burning passion…to murder the other. But this time, this time it was a hungry stare. One Harry couldn't seem to shake. Harry felt the blood rushing to his face, cheeks ablaze. The tips of his ears went hot and Harry couldn't understand why his body was betraying him this way.
Draco Malfoy had just made him blush.
"Why…uh, why are you still holding my hand?" Harry said as he felt a warmness creep up from his stomach, which Harry brushed off as a side-effect of being slightly pissed from the Butterbeer. In fact, all these feelings must be attached to the fact that he was almost certainly pissed. At least, that was easier than admitting that Harry was actually kind of enjoying being this close to Malfoy.
"So you don't open that door."
"Wh-why don't you want me to open the door?"
"I think you know why," Malfoy said this as he pushed in closer to Harry, closing the space between them. Harry felt that this must be some sort of prank that the other Slytherins had put Malfoy up to, but there was an electricity between their bodies. It felt similar to the way Harry had felt all these years whenever he competed with Malfoy, whether in a game of Quidditch, or in dealing out comebacks. Except now, instead of a slow burning sensation, it rocketed through his body like a shooting star was trapped inside of him.
Was it just that they were standing so close to each other? Was it the implied reasons for being locked in a closet for seven minutes? Harry wasn't exactly ready for other people to know about his newly understood sexual inclinations. Was it just the Butterbeer? Harry hadn't the slightest.
"I swear that I don't."
"Oh, is that so?" Malfoy placed his free hand on Harry's cheek, the other still wrapped delicately around the hand Harry had on the door handle. The gesture would normally have sent Harry off, but for whatever reason he was completely still. He could smell the liquor on Malfoy's breath mixed in with what Harry figured was his natural smell; cinnamon and mint, like Christmas.
What was Malfoy on about? I mean, no one touches his face like that unless…unless.. they were going to kiss him.
"Scared, Potter?"
In all honesty, yes Harry figured he was pretty scared, but he didn't have to admit that to Draco Malfoy. Harry was sure that would satisfy Malfoy's need to constantly berate him which had slowed down a bit since the war, but still remained apparent. Mostly, it was sideways glances and bickering these days. And Harry had to admit the bickering felt more tame like Malfoy did it for fun instead of in an effort to embarrass Harry like Malfoy had done the last seven years. Harry supposed that Malfoy felt he couldn't be as mean to Harry anymore and Harry quite liked that bit. However, he did miss the more intense disputes between them sometimes. Things had gotten a bit boring for Harry after the war, though he would never admit it out loud because he would sound absolutely mental. The adrenaline pumping and the nerves that came along with his and Malfoy's feud were intoxicating. Or maybe that was the Butterbeer again?
"You wish," Harry replied before he could think better of his retort which, if he was being honest, sounded a bit suggestive.
The words hung in the air. Thick like humidity on a rainy day. It was palpable. Harry tried to speak again, but the words hitched in his throat. He wasn't even sure what he wanted to say now. Something like get your hands off me, but also don't?
Harry was scared. Scared that he didn't quite hate Malfoy anymore and wondered when that had happened and how he had not noticed it. Scared that he like being in this situation a little too much. Yesterday, he never would have imagined that he would let himself be alone with Malfoy, but now it seems to make sense. Being alone with him. He felt at ease for the first time in months as Malfoy's body inched closer. Then Malfoy stroked Harry's cheekbone with this thumb. The smooth motion set Harry's hairs on end the way static electricity would.
Oh, no this is silly. Why would he want to be alone with Malfoy? Who would ever want to be alone with someone th-this…good-looking? No, wait that's not what he meant. Well, maybe it was. Had Harry always thought Malfoy was attractive? Surely, he would have noticed by now.
Malfoy let his hand fall from Harry's face. Warmth lingered from where his hand had been and Harry almost missed the hand there.
Surely, it has to have been seven minutes by now.
Erm was all Harry could manage. A small noise, but it broke the trance that Harry felt trapped under. Harry felt he could move again and Malfoy stepped back widening the space between them.
"So, I think we've got about another few minutes," Malfoy whispered. It was barely audible, but the tone was teasing. Was Malfoy flirting with him? To be sure, Harry wasn't exactly an expert at the whole flirting thing, but this felt different than any of the other times Draco Malfoy tried to goat him. And it crossed his mind again that this could be a prank devised to embarrass Harry."Can you handle it?"
"Of course I can. Can you?"
"Sure can."
"Good."
"Great."
"Wonderful."
"Brilliant."
Again, the air felt thick. Harry also noted that he and Malfoy had each stepped in closer again. Their bodies almost pressed against each other now. Harry could smell Malfoy's breath again and it was like a sweet lullaby, a melody that comforted him. He smelled the warm cinnamon and mint again. An appealing combination that stimulated Harry. His heart jumped into his chest and his palms began to sweat. If this was a joke, he really was going to kill Malfoy this time.
Malfoy must have noticed Harrys body react, because he moved his hand up to touch Harry's face again. Harry was surprised that he didn't back away. In fact, he moved into the touch. He felt his guard and resolve slipping. He felt his lips parting. He felt Malfoy moving a little closer. And still he moved closer. Was he seriously about to snog Draco Malfoy in a closet at Hogwarts while his friends sat outside waiting?
Malfoy's lips hovered open over Harry's lips, expectantly. They weren't touching, but Harry felt the warmth of Malfoy's breath on his own lips. He breathed in deep, closing his eyes. He wanted to move in closer, but he didn't want to make the first move. What if this was a cruel joke? What if Malfoy was messing with him? What if this tension was all in his head?
But in a moment, their lips were touching and Harry's heart was beating against his ribs. His hands moved up to Malfoy's- no, Harry decided in that moment to stop calling him Malfoy at least in his head-Draco's face and he felt himself get throughly aroused. Draco pushed into the kiss, hard. But Harry liked it and returned with a small bite to Draco's lower lip. Harry heard a small moan come from Draco and decided he liked the way it sounded.
Harry noted that Draco's lips were soft, like his hands had been and that his own lips were firm and unashamedly embracing the kiss. Harry moved in closer, so their bodies were flush against each other. Harry could feel the warmth of Draco's skin radiating through their clothes. It was almost too much to handle all at once.
Draco tilted his head to the side and pulled Harry in deeper, making Harry's breath hitch in his throat. He felt Draco's tongue flick his lips lightly. But Harry would not be bested by Draco at kissing, so he dared to slip his tongue into Draco's mouth slowly, and when Harry heard Draco purr with satisfaction, he felt confident enough to move in deeper.
Harry felt a fire in his stomach, a combination of nerves and Butterbeer. This one would be hard to explain to Ron and Hermione.
Utterly shaken and confused, Harry pulled back from the kiss and just stared at Draco for what felt like hours. Harry was taking in the hard lines of Draco's jaw which gave Draco a very ruggedly attractive look. He was sexy, even. Harry also felt himself looking down to Draco's lips and wishing he hadn't pulled away so quickly. Those lips. Pouting and flushed pink. And the way Draco was starring back at him. His eyes so decidedly fixed on Harry.
"Potter?" Draco inquired, but Harry didn't respond right away. He couldn't quite make words come out of his mouth just yet. The kiss was brief, but Harry had felt something deep inside him awaken. It was the thing he felt missing whenever he had kissed Ginny. Something he had not felt in a long time; unashamed desire. None of the other times he had a snog with someone had felt that…good. In fact, nothing in the months since the war had made him feel that alive.
Draco nudged Harry out of his stupor. "Right, yes, me. I'm Potter."
"Yes, thought that bit was clear. What I mean is, are you okay? You seem a bit stunned." Draco raised an eyebrow in such a deliberately attractive way that Harry felt his stomach flop. Merlin, get a hold of yourself, Harry thought. This was Draco Malfoy, mortal enemy, after all, not some person Harry was attracted to.
"Well, you just kissed me," Harry blurted that bit out without thinking.
"Babbling like a moron? I knew I was good, but.." Draco licked his lips slowly, seductively, and then stretched his mouth into a grin. Harry decided Draco was having too much fun making him bumble about like a lunatic. It probably was a joke to him.
"No, no that's not what I mean."
"Well, do get on with it Potter. What do you mean?"
"What I mean is.." Except Harry didn't know what he meant. He wasn't sure what to say other than maybe repeating himself and saying Well, you kissed me again. It wasn't that the kiss wasn't good because, fuck, it was good. Really good, so good, in fact, Harry noticed he was a bit hard. Again, something that hadn't happened since the war. Harry hadn't notice it until that moment, but after the war he only seemed to be going through the motions. He hadn't been excited, or challenged, or aroused, even, since things had begun to settle down.
The bit that was throwing him the most was that it was Draco Malfoy who seemed to effectively wake him up. A boy he had resigned to hate ever since they met in Madame Malkin's all those years ago. A boy who, until recently, Harry had rarely been nice to. Well, never been nice to. And yet, here Draco was, snogging him in a closet as if none of the horrible things that had passed between them existed.
"Potter, don't go all mental on me. It was just a kiss."
"I know that Malfoy," Harry said, putting particular emphasis on Draco's name. Things had changed since the war. Draco had changed. He was more tolerant now, still a prick, but at least he was nicer to everyone, in his own way. His cold, back-handed remarks had shifted to a more mocking tone one used when they were teasing a friend.
"So, what's the problem, oh, gracious Chosen One?"
"It's that…what I mean is…" Harry struggled to find the right words, but he couldn't so he settled on, "do you like blokes?"
"Yes," Draco's answer was so quick and so confident that Harry was taken aback. He expected Draco wouldn't want to answer that question. Harry found that he barely wanted to admit out loud that he was attracted to men, so he assumed no one would admit things like that, especially to arch nemeses in a closet at Hogwarts right after they had snogged.
"Oh, right and why did you kiss me? We didn't have to do it you know? Was it some kind of prank because…" Harry knew he sounded stupid, but he couldn't help himself. He had begun wondering if maybe he was broken because no one else, nothing else, seemed to excite him in this way. Anytime he and Ginny snogged, Harry had felt love for her, but no passion. His body would respond to her sometimes, but his heart wasn't in it and Ginny could tell.
"Wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Most of the wizarding world wants to snog you, you know. Thought I'd take my chance while I had it."
Harry heard Hermione's voice coming through the closed door and it sounded like Okay, times up, so Harry reached for the door handle again and this time Draco didn't stop him. Instead he winked at Harry and slinked back out to the group and sat down next to Blaise, Pansy and Theo who all gave him an inquisitive look.
The rest of the group had their eyes trained on Harry who was positive that he was blushing and that everyone noticed. Draco had snogged him just to see what it was like? Harry decided that wasn't exactly fair because up until this moment, Harry had never considered Draco appealing. He had of course found men appealing. Really anyone could be appealing to Harry. He found that gender had nothing to do with his sexuality, which is why he ended things with Ginny. He liked her, but he wasn't passionately attracted to her, not because she was a woman, but because she wasn't the right person.
But Draco… Harry found himself replaying the kiss again. He felt a spark inside him and moved his hand up to his lips. He was in a sort of trance until he heard Seamus shout at him to snap out of it you stupid wanker.
"Harry, you alright?" Ginny asked. Her face was screwed up into a frown. Concern wrinkled around her eyes. She was of course the only person that knew he was so inclined to like snogging a bloke if the right one should come along.
"Yeah, 'course," Harry said unsure of his voice. It felt a bit shaky.
"So, how was the snog Mr. Chosen One? We hear Draco is quite the prolific kisser," Pansy teased. Harrys ears felt hot and he knew everyone was watching.
"We didn't snog, Pansy. Sorry to disappoint you and your little fantasy," Draco answered before Harry could. The relief filled Harry and he nodded towards Draco as if to say thanks for not telling everyone.
"Too bad," Pansy said. Everyone else seemed satisfied with Draco's answer and left it alone. Ginny did keep giving him sideways glances, but Harry resigned to ignore them. Just like he would be ignoring the fact that Draco had kissed him and that he had actually liked it. Nothing like a bit of denial to start off the holiday break right.
Harry woke up feeling a bit cold. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His body was shaking. It was still night time. He noticed that his blankets had been kicked off which was usual for him, especially if he had been having a nightmare. Harry had been having them less often since Lord Voldemort died, but they didn't fully disappear. They were like a ghost haunting Harry, never quite letting him forget the pain.
Except, Harry looked down at himself and saw he was sporting a massive hard on and quickly pulled his covers back up over himself. Clearly, he had not had a nightmare. Not this time at least.
Harry strained to remember his dream, but as he tried the only thing he could remember was the way Draco's lips had felt against his. The way their warm bodies had touched. The way Harry felt desire creeping up inside him, bursting to be set free and then….bam, it hit him. The dream must have been about Draco..