VERY IMPORTANT NOTE! This is a slash fiction, and it is smutty – if you don't like either of those things, or if you don't think your parents would approve of you reading something with mature content, then please don't. Thanks!
Harry stepped out into the corridor, feeling mildly impressed with himself. It wasn't every Transfiguration lesson that he managed to win ten points for Gryffindor before Hermione did. He split away from Ron and Hermione at the nearest staircase, intending to go up to his dormitory and collect a textbook for Potions before meeting them again for lunch.
But as soon as he put his foot on the stairs, a mocking voice came out of the shadows behind him. ''It's just too easy for you Potter, isn't it?''
Harry swung around, and stared straight into Malfoy's face. Even though he had grown over summer, Malfoy seemed to have grown even more, and their faces were on a level, even though Harry was standing on the steps. ''What are you talking about Malfoy?'' Harry's green eyes narrowed slightly, wondering what barb would be coming his way.
''You, sucking up to every single teacher. You don't even have to make a valid point, just the fact that you're the Boy Who Lived is enough to get you exactly what you want, isn't it?''
''So you think that I play on the fact that both my parents were killed in order to get good grades in class?'' Harry wondered what Malfoy would do if he laughed in his face.
''Well, the teachers probably think that you've got to have something going for you – no family, you might as well have the good grades. I was going to say exactly the same thing as you for that answer in Transfiguration – and yet you're the one that McGonagall picks on to answer the question.''
''For Merlin's sake Malfoy, grow up! I can't believe that you're picking a fight over something as pathetic as this. I got picked to answer a question – so what? I don't play on the fact that my parents are dead, and I certainly don't get everything I want.'' Harry watched the constant stream of students flowing behind Malfoy and decided that sending the blonde boy into the midst of them with a well chosen curse wouldn't be a good idea. With that in mind, he turned and began walking up the stairs, hoping beyond hope that Malfoy wouldn't pick that moment to curse him.
Malfoy stared up as Harry walked away from him, his eyes narrowed as his heart pumped out an almost corrosive hatred. And yet, his gaze ran from the back of Harry's head where black hair gleamed glossily, down the straight, strong back, to the narrow, almost snake-like hips. And involuntarily, Draco's mouth dried out, forcing him to lick his lips.
Harry could feel the back of his neck tingling slightly, feel a hot and heavy stare travelling the length of his body. Against his will, his head turned, looking back down at Draco. Vivid green eyes met glowing grey eyes, and Harry felt a jolt run through his veins, leaving every single nerve in his body quivering in some strange ecstasy of anticipation. His eyes grew wide, wondering at what was making every part of him jolt, what was making him focus on Draco's eyes, what was making him call Malfoy Draco. He was so shocked by what had happened that he completely forgot what staircase he was walking up, and let his foot plunge through the top step. He stared at his foot in horror, trapped.
Draco looked up at Harry, tugging frantically at his foot, and felt his mouth dry out all over again. Harry looked at him, and Draco felt himself, against all of his instincts, smile wolfishly. The stream of students passing behind him had dried to a trickle as they hurried to class, and Draco knew that he could take this opportunity, but to do what?
His body seemed to decide that for him, prowling up the stairs towards Harry, each step seeming to take a lifetime, his heart pounding desperately in his ears, and his breathing coming unnaturally quickly. His clothes seemed abnormally heavy against him, the smooth cotton of his shirt lying gently on top of his skin.
Harry put his hand into his robe, and pulled out his wand, but where he hadn't faltered in the face of dementors, where he hadn't faltered in the face of Voldemort, he faltered now. Draco's grey eyes seemed to be growing larger and larger, filling all of his vision. Harry felt himself sway almost imperceptibly, unable to comprehend what was happening. He noticed, almost from a distance that he had stopped trying to free his foot, that he was just waiting meekly for Draco to draw closer to him.
Draco couldn't hear any students now, just the closing of classroom doors. They were completely alone, deserted on a dark staircase. He could see Harry's face clearly in the gloom though, and he hated blinking, simply because it stopped him seeing that face for a single millisecond. Harry's black hair was falling into his eyes, and Draco reached out, ignoring the wand that Harry was holding, so that he could push the hair out of the green eyes. What am I doing, he asked himself. Why am I not cursing him while I've got the chance? He noticed that Harry was breathing quickly, his chest rising and falling, and he thought gratefully that at least something weird was happening to the pair of them. His eyes fell to Harry's lips, pale pink against his skin, and thought how soft they looked. He could almost feel Harry trembling, they were standing so close to each other. He bent down next to Harry's ear and whispered.
''Brave boys shouldn't be afraid of wolves.'' Harry felt the silkily-spoken words hit his ear, and thought how like a wolf Draco was. Fair enough, his house was Slytherin but he was nothing like a snake. His grey uniform lay perfectly against his body, just like the coat of a wolf. His body was held like a hunter's, rangy and muscular. And his eyes, cool, appraising, but with a definite hint of ferocity. Harry clutched his wand, but knew that a stick of wood wouldn't be enough to save him from this predator.
Draco was so close to Harry that he could smell the fresh, clean smell coming off him, a vibrant smell, nothing like the musky ones that Draco favoured. Before he even knew what he was doing, he bent forward even further and slowly and deliberately kissed the soft skin in front of Harry's ear.
Harry jolted away, his eyes wide in shock. His wand fell out of his suddenly clumsy fingers. He could feel his skin burning, not unpleasantly, where Draco's lips had touched it, and he raised his hand tentatively to feel the skin. To his surprise, the skin felt no different. As far as he was concerned, the skin should have been glowing, notifying the world that something unusual had happened there. Draco's hand shot up, and held Harry's hand in place, his palm soft against Harry's skin. Then, not taking his eyes off Harry's, he lifted Harry's fingers to his mouth, and gently kissed each one. Harry could feel the soft dryness of Draco's lips and the smooth wetness beyond. He felt a sudden rush of blood to his prick, leaving him harder than he had ever been in his life. His own body seemed to be suffocating him – removing all thought processes from his brain so that he couldn't pause for a single moment – he couldn't possibly be doing this, but there was no way he could possibly stop!
Draco ran his tongue over Harry's index finger, almost able to feel the smooth fingerprint beneath his tongue. He closed his eyes momentarily, overwhelmed by sensations that he couldn't stop and analyse because that might lead to him stopping what he was doing. He could feel a heavy warmth spreading through his stomach, radiating through his whole body, and settling in his nether regions which had never seemed as desperate as they did at that precise moment. 'Merlin Potter, what are you doing to me?''
The words fell on Harry's ear but nothing seemed to make sense. The only thing that he was capable of noting was that Draco was coming closer and closer to him, and neither of them knew what they were doing, and yet it was all so clear and all seemed so right…
Draco let Harry's hand drop, still with traces of saliva resting on the fingers. He placed his hands on Harry's face, feeling the play of skin and muscles beneath them, the high cheekbones turning towards him. Harry's eyes were wide, but no longer scared. They were bright, lust-filled, confused. Draco paused. He didn't know what he was doing, he knew that he wanted to do it, but the consequences…he was debating pulling away from Harry, fleeing, but then everything changed.
Harry's hand slid around Draco's neck, gently, caressing the skin at the back of his neck, toying with the strands of blonde hair. He still looked confused but his other hand was sliding around Draco's waist, clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer, leaning into him.
Draco forgot hesitating and leaned into Harry, entangling his fingers in the black hair that felt just as soft as it had looked. Their lips rested next to each others for a single second, feeling breath flutter from one mouth to another. They both knew that they were at the point of no return. But then their lips were against each other's, and it was like nothing Harry had ever experienced, strong, and passionate, and confused, and desperate, bruising his lips, but he had no intention of submitting. He kissed back, slipping his tongue through Draco's supple lips, exploring the mouth that had spat so many harsh words at him. There was no sign of that venom now: only the velvety feel of Draco's cheeks and his hard body moving closer and closer to Harry. Harry pressed back against him, feeling himself grow even harder, to the point where he wanted nothing more than to let Draco be a predator – to let him tear his clothes off, to let him feast.
Draco pushed back harder against Harry, only to find that the added pressure freed Harry's foot from the staircase, and they went toppling back. Harry landed on his back, Draco pressing down on top of him. They looked at each other tentatively – would they pull away now while they had the chance, or carry on relentless.
Draco made the choice for them both. He swooped down and pounced on Harry's lips, delighting in the feel of the boy beneath him. He let his hands roam down, loosen Harry's tie, pulling at his shirt. Harry in turn tugged Draco's shirt out of his waistband, trailing his fingers up Draco's back, feeling the muscles beneath his fingers.
Neither of them thought about where they were, what they were doing. All Harry knew was that when Draco slid behind him, it was agony because he wanted to be kissing him at that exact moment, and he had to twist his head so that he could watch the blonde loom over him, hair hanging over intense eyes. All Draco knew was that as he slid into Harry, gasping at the sensations it made, he wanted to be licking and sucking him, feeling him shudder beneath his ministrations. And as Draco took his prey, the pair of them arched against each other, sweaty skin sliding, clutching hands, biting teeth, sucking, kissing, licking mouths. And as they stared into each other's eyes, green against grey, they didn't need to say anything, because that would destroy this primitive moment that was somehow much more sophisticated and complex than they could ever have dreamed. And together they plunged over the brink into a shuddering ecstasy that was so concentrated that they could barely comprehend it.
When it was over, and their brains were able to concentrate again, Draco pulled away from Harry, his mouth dry again. He opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it again – what did you say to someone when you had just experienced something like that with them? He leant in and gave Harry one fierce kiss, his face almost angry. And then, abruptly he turned away, moving swiftly down the stairs.
Harry looked after him, a lone wolf, stalking away. He touched the patch of skin by his ear where Draco had first touched him, something tame compared to what had later occurred. He might not have anything to prove this had happened, but he could still feel Draco's gentle, tentative touch – the mark of a predator at his most vulnerable.
AN: well, I hope you enjoyed it. If you could leave me a comment, I will love you forever! This is the first slash I've ever written, so I would love to know where I could improve, if I should carry on with it, all that kind of stuff! Petitesorciere xxx
