Disclaimer: This story includes male on male action so if you don't like it then don't bother reading it
The story itself was a role-play that me and a friend did so this story is a partnership between me and her, she plays Harry I played Draco.
I do NOT own any of the characters mentioned in this story. J.K Rowling owns the characters not me.
Chapter 1
Harry's POV
Harry leisurely circled the rain soaked pitch high above the Gryffindor stands, gloved hands gripped tightly to the slippery wooden handle of his firebolt, emerald eyes scanning the entire area for a glimpse of fluttering gold like an eagle searching for it's prey. Small icy daggers of rain almost sleet like in their appearance pelted down on his face and hair stinging his sun kissed skin and making him shiver to the bone as his soaked quidditch robes flapped around him heavily in the strong wind. Today wasn't the ideal conditions for Quidditch but as it was a house match Madame Hooch had given the all clear for the game to go ahead much to the protests and whines of a few of the opposing team players ,what was a little rain anyway when his adrenaline always ran dangerously high when Gryffindor played Slytherin.
Thankful of Hermione who insisted even before Harry had left the common room to change to cast a water repellent charm on his glasses, the Gryffindor seeker managed a small grin towards his bushy haired friend who was smiling and waving madly at him with her house scarf flying in her face, before falling into a spectacular crowd pleasing dive gaining applause and whoops of delight by his rain soaked house mates. Yes even Harry occasionally liked to show off his skills on a broom especially in front of the Slytherin players, any excuse to distract them to his teams advantage was well worth the trouble….and it was only a dive. The match was slow even though Gryffindor were twenty points ahead, the only interesting thing that had happened so far was when Slytherin chaser Adrian Pucey had got hit by a bludger, Madame Hooch calling for the game to be temporary stopped for quick medical attention from a tutting and tight lipped Madame Pomfrey.
Poppy Pomfreys hatred of the game was legendary amongst all the four house teams, Merlin help any player who had to be sent to the hospital wing with a quidditch sustained injury. Harry of course had spent his fair share of painful times on her ward laying on an uncomfortable iron bed and witnessing her dislike of the sport first hand for hours and hours. The dark haired wizard had been subjected to her vile skele-grow potion when Lockhart had removed the bones from his arm in his second year, had to endure her lectures on how the sport should be banned from the school and how it had caused more life threatening injuries than any of Hagrid's magical pets and creatures. Yes you could say that there was no love lost between Poppy Pomfrey and Quidditch.
Shaking a large amount of rain from his messy raven hair, Harry pulled out of his perfect dive inches from the soggy ground that now resembled a slushy sand pit and soared high above the Slytherin end goal posts grinning to himself, mist the taunts and catcalls of the serpent crowd. Hovering in mid air he spotted the glittering prize fluttering and weaving high in the stormy sky just above the Ravenclaw stands at the far end of the pitch. Looking around to see if his blonde rival had spotted it too he manoeuvred his firebolt and streaked after it at breakneck speed hoping that he Slytherin git hadn't noticed.
Three weeks prior…
Harry had been hurrying to get to his next class after Slughorn had kept him back for a quick chat and to praise his 'Draught of the living Death' potion. He had unfortunately rounded a corner far too quickly, smacking straight into a very shocked and flustered Draco Malfoy. The two of them had ended up in each others arms as most of their belongings crashed to the floor around them. It was at that moment that Harry amidst the crashing of empty potion vials, spell books and quills had looked straight into the sneering blonde's gray eyes and ever since then he couldn't get there intensity out of his mind. Malfoy's warm firm body pressed up against his, the musky smell of his expensive cologne, the candy smell of his hot breath and the way his pink lips parted ever so slightly as they stood looking at each other for far too long had played on his thoughts ever since that afternoon. To say he had come obsessed with the blonde was an understatement, those gray eyes haunted him night and day, teasing him with the promise of something other than a cold emotionless stare, those soft lips invited him rather than spilling a round of verbal abuse to his ears and his lithe firm body pressed up against him rather than swaying towards him in a flurry of robes and arrogance. Harry was just a little bit curious…
Present…
Distracted by his thoughts Harry let his concentration slip momentarily giving the blonde the chance to catch up with him. Scowling at his mistake Harry raced alongside the other, both with the same goal to catch the little golden ball that fluttered and dipped just out of their reach. As the snitch took a dive Malfoy took his chance and slammed into him, sending him just slightly off course for a few seconds fighting to control his broom. Harry caught a wicked look from the other as his hands gripped the swaying firebolt, the blonde's rain soaked lips just parting as if on purpose for a tempting glimpse of a pink serpent tongue and the hot mouth that lay beyond….that was the Gryffindors ultimate downfall. With erotic visions running rampant through his mind Harry sped towards the falling snitch mirroring the blonde's dive but ignoring the ground that was coming towards him at a breakneck speed. The snitch dipped a few inches from the soggy wet sand then flew upwards vertically, Malfoy followed…Harry didn't.
"Arghhh!"
In those few seconds before the impending impact time froze, Harry could hear the deafening cheer coming from the Slytherin stands to his right as his emerald eyes shut tight to brace himself. His firebolt hit the ground with so much force that the tip of it's handle imbedding itself in the soft sand, catapulting the raven haired seeker through the air for a few feet until he came to land with a sickening thud laying on his back at the bottom of the Slytherin goal posts. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the icy blonde hovering over him drenched to the skin, his slender right hand clasped around the fluttering snitch and a big smug smirk on his ferrety face…Slytherin had won.