Prison Walls

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter series. I do own the plot, however.

Warning/Notes: HPDM slash! You have the honour of reading my first slash fic.

Out of the gloom, two piercing green eyes appeared. Two dusty grey eyes met these of emeralds. Only an inch separated these two people, but to them, it could have been an entire universe.
"What're you looking at, Malfoy?" Potter spat at him.

Draco delicately wiped off imaginary flecks of saliva from his shirt. "What makes you think I was looking at you, Potter?" he sneered right back.

Granger looked from one to the other, probably debating whether to laugh or not, Draco mused inwardly. His stray eye gazed over Potter's figure, lingering at his neck, gleaming with sweat from Quidditch practice…

"I don't think you were looking at Ron, now, were you?" Draco nearly puked. Look at Weasley? He didn't think so.

"Weasel's old rat of an owl looks more appealing than him, dear Scarhead," Draco said with relish. Weasley looked affronted.

"HAHAHAHA!" Both the blonde wizard and his black-haired counterpart swivelled their heads to look at the hysterical witch.

"Hermione! Are you okay?" Weasley rushed to her side. God, Weasel! She can't have been poisoned by a Cheering Potion or anything! She's just laughing! Get a serious grip!

"F…Fine…HAHA!"

Draco looked at Harry and shrugged.

Think she was laughing at your comment on Ron? Green eyes asked.

Nah, I think it was us, grey eyes replied silently.

Meanwhile, Weasley was calming Granger down.

"Oh… You two are so funny!" Dissolving into laughter again, Granger clutched at Weasley's robes.

"Huh? Hey, we thought about this dialogue for a long time, Hermione!" Harry complained.

Draco snorted. "We? There's no 'we', Potty. I thought of the dialogue!"

"It's not the words; it's the delivery and the looks and everything! Look, Draco, you kept eyeing Harry as if you wanted to, well, get cosy with him. And Harry, you kept on looking as if you wanted to laugh at any moment." Hermione explained, breathless from her laughter.

"This is never going to work!" Draco yelled in frustration. He felt like pulling his hair out, but it would jeopardise his looks. "I'm going to fly, and I don't bloody care if tomorrow I'm going to make a fool of myself. Or him." That said, he stormed off to get his broom.

"Bloody hell… Potter… Stupid…" he muttered as he changed into his Quidditch robes.

"Hey Draco, where're you off to?" Blaise asked from the armchairs by the fire.

"Fly." Honestly, what else could the broom be for? Blaise was probably off his rocker too, just like that Granger.

Warm lips met cold ones, unrelenting yet hesitating. Again and again, like waves on the shore, they met; releasing noises that cried out silently, messages only they knew the code of.
Harry left Hermione in the arms of Ron, who looked thoroughly at a loss to handle a still-giggling Hermione. Harry had grabbed his broom, not bothering to change into a fresh set of Quidditch robes.

He had a score to settle with a certain blonde Slytherin.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he hummed as he walked onto the Pitch. He searched the blue skies for Malfoy, finally spotting the figure he knew well hovering near the goalposts at the far end.

Kicking off the ground, Harry soared towards Malfoy. As he flew nearer, a blush rose in his cheeks as he saw that a few buttons of the blonde's robes were unbuttoned.

Malfoy saw him looking, and smirked. He rose an eyebrow, an elegant gesture. "Like what you see, Potter?"

Harry swallowed and grinned back. "As a matter of fact, yes."

Malfoy, Harry was delighted to see, had flushed at his reply. "How's Granger?"

"Still chuckling away, I expect. Well, she's had a great shock." Harry said nonchalantly, flying alongside Malfoy, who had started to fly laps around the Pitch.

"Yeah? What about Weasley then? Is he going to crack anytime soon? Because those who keep their emotions bottled up will go mad," Malfoy said.

"Yeah, I know that feeling…" Malfoy shot him a glare; Harry was eyeing him rather appreciatively. Both flushed and Harry coughed, "Anyway, Ron's been waiting for it to happen, apparently. He, er, told me that it was about time."

"That Weasel's smarter than he looks, it appears."

"Don't call him that."

"What? He calls me Ferret!"

"Don't be childish!"

"Me, childish? I assure you, Potty, that childish does not apply whenever Draco Malfoy is concerned!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Hands explored territories familiar yet strange. Flesh so soft tensed into chiselled hardness as curious fingers prowled, like hunters looking for their prey. Blonde hair and black hair tangled together, just like trees whose branches grow too close together.
Draco stifled a yawn as he headed back to the castle with Potter.

"Remember, Potter, if anyone comes down, we are quarrelling," he warned the messy-haired teen.

The other merely grunted and rubbed his eyes.

Draco refrained from looking at Potter, fearing that he'd shove the teen against the wall and have his way with him. Potter's robes clung to his body, leaving everything to his imagination. Draco gulped, hard.

Potter turned to look at him, smirking. He'd heard the gulp.

"Desire caught your tongue, Malfoy?" he asked, in that husky voice of his.

Draco didn't trust himself to speak. He was sure he could only manage a croak.

Potter smirked again – Draco clenched his fist – and waved a goodbye, before retreating to his Common Room.

Draco let out his breath. Damn that Gryffindor tease… He went to have a shower. A very cold shower.

If noises escaped them, they could not care less. Fingers danced over skin, lingering in some places, gliding over some. Hot breath on neck, cold hisses in ear. Licking salt from sensitive spots, nibbling on rough edges. The world was lost to these two; there was only touch, taste, smell…

Harry grinned to himself. He'd seen how Malfoy had reacted towards him, and he smiled at how he had made the normally cool Slytherin lose his control.

Pushing the portrait open (Widdy Waddy), Harry was glad to see Hermione restored to her usual non-hysterical senses. Ron, however, was conked out on the sofa.

"Hey, you alright now?" Harry asked, smoothing his grin.

"Yeah, was I, you know, laughingmyheadofflikeacrazybatandlookingtotallyunprofessional?" Hermione looked rather anxious.

Harry could not help but laugh. "A little, but it's good to let it out."

"Oh, okay. I still can't believe it, though. You and Draco…" Hermione shook his head. "Wow!"

Harry turned red. He could feel his skin practically glowing.

"So… have you two worked things out on how you're going to act from now on?"

"I dunno… I guess we'll make it up as we go along. Listen, I'm starving. Dinner?"

Hermione looked doubtful, but did not press the issue. "Okay, meet you here in five? I'll wake Ron and you'd better bathe and change. No offence, Harry, but you stink."

Harry grinned, remembering the look Malfoy had given him as they'd walked back to the castle. Malfoy had looked as if he would jump Harry's bones any moment. Still chuckling to himself, Harry headed to the bathrooms.

Five minutes later, he came down to a thoroughly exasperated Hermione and a sleepy Ron.

"Oh… hey Harry… (YAWN) Dinner, eh?" Ron mussed his hair, which made him look like a lion which had just been electrocuted. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances and hid their faces behind hands to snigger.

"Eh hem, yes, dinner. Let's go, or everyone will finish everything!" Harry bolted out of the portrait hole, his stomach leading the way.

As Harry approached the Great Hall, he saw a particular blonde swaggering over to the Slytherin table. Harry suppressed a goofy smile.

"FOOD!" Ron exclaimed as he pounced upon a roast chicken.

"Well, he's definitely awake now," remarked Hermione, disgusted as Ron started piling victuals onto his plate, as if he had not eaten for a month.

Harry laughed (he'd been doing that a lot lately, he realized) and sat beside Hermione, tucking in hungrily, though not as enthusiastically as Ron, who was in danger of choking on a chicken wing.

Smell… The air was heavy of salt and passion. The thickness of it was stifling in the cramped space, but the two lovers ignored the pressing aroma, and concentrated on the other. Limbs knocked against walls, the pain assured them of bruises in the morning, but the owners of these injuries never ceased their actions…
The next morning, Draco was walking to breakfast earlier than usual, when a red-coloured blur flew into him, knocking him flat into a broom closet.

"Wha-?" He was cut off by a hand covering his mouth. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he chuckled.

Two piercing eyes, the emerald eyes of Harry Potter, looked into Draco's dusty grey ones, alight with a fire of passion. Slowly, the hand covering Draco's mouth was removed. Harry leaned nearer towards Draco, till there was but an inch between them…

The walls surrounding them were like those of a prison, the space too confined. The lovers bumped into each other, often eliciting a gasp from both of them. Cloth still covered them, but the passion between them seemed to burn the infernal material to a thin layer of silk. Buttons strewn on the floor, the places where they belonged to opened up to reveal the flesh underneath…
"Damn!"

"Ouch!"

"Malfoy, watch the buttons!"

"Potter, mind my robes!"

"Shit!"

"Oh crap…"

Harry and Draco looked stricken as they faced the entire school, sprawled on the floor and on one another. Their robes had numerous buttons missing, showing their muscled torsos. A scandalous scene indeed…

Harry looked for Ron and Hermione, and saw them, their faces white with shock mingled with mirth.

Draco saw Blaise, his mouth opening and closing like a fish's.

Silence in the Great Hall.

"Well, at least we're out in the open… That closet was a prison!" Draco said, to break the silence. Inwardly, he cringed, although he was sure that his lips were curled up in a half-smile.

"Yeah…" Harry had no idea what else to say. How were you supposed to react when you've been caught red-handed snogging your lover whom everyone thinks is your arch-enemy? They should teach that in class instead of dancing lessons for a ball. Harry couldn't help but grin at that.

"Well… You two have certainly brought a new meaning to 'coming out of the closet'!" Hermione shook with laughter. Ron's horrified face at the realization that Hermione was coming down with another hysterical laughing fit was the icing on the cake.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Forgive me if you found it not up to standard; this is my first attempt at a slash fic. Please feel free to give me constructive comments via a review – that is what a review is for.

Thank you once again,

nothingville