This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.


Title: Stolen Kisses

Team: Pride of Portee

Position: Seeker

Reserve: No

Theme: Star-Crossed Lovers. Write about a romance that's doomed to fail.

Word Count: 1061


Harry Potter would never have believed he would have this problem. He was in love- with someone on the wrong side of the war he was destined to fight. He watched the blond in the morning in the great hall, Harry watched him as he walked to classes, he watched him, knowing that this would break his heart.

Because Draco Malfoy was the son of a Death Eater, the son of Voldemort's right-hand man. Draco met his emerald green eyes with scorn, until one day. Harry knew he shouldn't love him, but that just made it all the more impossible not to. His grey eyes peered into his soul, his blond hair seemed to tease him with wondering what it would feel like. He followed Draco one day, seeing him disappear into the room of requirement on his own. The object of his affections was even paler than usual, instead of looking like a vampire; he looked more like a zombie.

Harry followed him, quickly pulling his invisibility cloak over his head. He needed to know where Draco was going. He saw him wandering around the room, he seemed to be searching for something.

"Stop following me, Potter," Malfoy said without his usual sneer.

"How did you know it was me?" Potter replied, pulling his cloak off him.

"You aren't subtle," he replied. He was looking into a mirror, seeing Harry reflected behind him. He was worn out, pale and sickly. Harry saw himself and realised he didn't look much better.

"So what, you going to kill me?" Potter replied, resigned, not scared for once.

"You know I can't, that's why you keep following me, making sure I don't let him in," Malfoy said.

"What are you doing here?" Potter asked again.

"Tonight- waiting for you, if it were any other night, well — if I told you, I would have to kill you," he replied, it seemed like he was trying to joke.

"Is that a joke?" Potter tried to ask. The answering grimace was clear on the blond's face.

"I know you have a crush on me, Potter," Malfoy said, his tone begged for this to not be true, for Potter to shrug it off, say he was crazy. But Harry couldn't do it, he had been denying the truth for so long, but when it hit him when it really hit him, he could no longer deny the fact.

Harry just sighed. "I know it's stupid," he said instead. Malfoy's heart sank like a stone, he heard the words, and he just couldn't believe it was true. How could he kill a man confessing his love to him? How was he supposed to go back to The Dark Lord and give Harry over to him?

Wordlessly, Malfoy made his own confessions. He rolled up the sleeves on his Slytherin robes, letting the Dark Mark on his wrist speak for itself. He chose a side, the wrong side. His parents' side. Did he love this man enough to lose it all?

"I love you," Potter said, in his desperation to ignore the mark, and just pretend that they were regular teenagers, teenagers who weren't on opposite sides, those who could be young and in love.

"You shouldn't," Malfoy replied with a sad expression. "It will only mean both our deaths."

"It shouldn't have to," Potter replied.

"Stupid Gryffindor," Malfoy said, tears running down his cheeks as he tried to raise his wand, to curse the man. He wanted to break his heart, the way his own heart was breaking; he wanted them both to feel the hurt and hopelessness of the situation. The truth that they could never be.

Harry caught the Slytherin by surprise, he moved quickly, disarming him, and pinning him to the glass mirror. Holding him against him, so tight, he could feel their hearts racing.

Harry dropped his own wand as well and felt the blond sigh as he resigned himself to what was coming next. Harry moved in closer, slowly, Malfoy could turn his head, he could spit or hiss or bite.

He took the plunge, he kissed the Slytherin, and his heart both broke and soared as the blond returned his kiss, fierce and hungry, like both of them were starving to taste the lips of the other.

"We are both going to die," Malfoy whispered as they ran out of breath.

"Not if I can help it," Harry replied against his neck. "I will save you, even your parents, do you trust me?"

Malfoy shook his blond head in disbelief. "You can't save me, it's too late for that, I choose my side, and you choose yours," he replied.

"You're wrong," Harry whispered, holding the man in his arms, the man held him back, and they resumed kissing, not knowing if this were the last time, they would ever be able to see each other. If this were their last kiss, they would make it count. If this were their swan song, they would sing it to the world. At this moment, all that mattered was them, the world was still, but they were outside it. For the moment, it would all be okay.

"Just tell me you love me," Malfoy said, although the words had not been announced, just implied.

"I love you, Draco, and I will win for us," Harry said. Malfoy smiled at him, a pale, worn out smile that one had when one knew it was too late, he knew this was the moment he would hold onto when he died by The Dark Lord's hands. One doesn't fall in love with the Boy-Who-Lived. Yet, somehow Draco Malfoy did, and it was undeniable.

"I love you too, stupid Gryffindor," he said, holding onto the man as if this was just a dream. As if Harry would disappear as soon as he let him go. He almost wished this all was a dream.

"This is life, this is no fairy tale, I know the risks," Harry admitted.

"Kiss me again, make me forget," Malfoy said. Harry couldn't help but do just what he was asked, although he knew that wouldn't solve anything.

"It won't change anything," Harry sighed. Malfoy said nothing, just leaned into Harry and kissed him, breathing him in. "Yes," Harry whispered against his lips.

All they had was that one night, alone, in the Room of Requirement.