Harry stomped down from Gryffindor Tower with a dark scowl on his face towards the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione were trailing behind him nervously, obviously wanting to ask if he was okay, but refraining from doing so because of his murderous expression. Ron finally took a deep breath and braced himself for his best friend's fury.
"Hey there, mate. What's wrong?" he asked. Harry stopped suddenly, clenching his fists and whirling around to gaze at Ron. He shifted uncomfortably under his sharp green gaze.
"Oh, thanks for asking, Ron. Because of yesterday, everything seems wrong!" he practically roared, causing several second-year Ravenclaws shoot wary glances at him. Ron rolled his eyes then. His friend could be so melodramatic at times.
"There's no need getting so pissed off about it, Harry. It's only three nights," he tried to reason, but Harry cut him off with a glare.
"Just three nights? I have to spend several hours for three days straight locked in a classroom with Malfoy! How is that not something to get worked up over?" he demanded. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in sympathy.
"Harry, I know this seems bad, but detention with Malfoy isn't the worst thing in the world that's happened to you. Just be glad that's the most important thing you have to worry about, yeah?" she said. Harry struggled with himself for a moment, but eventually pressed his lips in a tight line and jerked his head in a nod. They all went to the Gryffindor Table for dinner, immediately serving themselves and beginning to eat. Unfortunately, Harry was brutally reminded that the Gryffindor table was right next to the Slytherin table when his least favourite person in the world (a close running with Snape) sat down and made his presence known.
"Hey, Potter! I'll be seeing you in detention!" Malfoy called, and then laughed. Harry gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to throw his fork into the git's eye.
Damn Malfoy. I can't even blind you, because then I'd only be seeing one of your intense eyes gazing at me.
Harry blinked. Where the hell did that come from? He chanced a glance back at Malfoy and was startled to see Malfoy staring at him intently. His grey eyes were bright with an emotion he could not name, making them shimmer almost silver. Malfoy noticed that Harry was looking at him in turn and quickly scowled to mask his embarrassment. Harry could tell because a faint pink tinge dusted across his pale cheeks.
That blush is so infuriatingly adorable.
Harry flushed himself at that stray thought, and scowled when Malfoy grinned at him. Oh, damn it all, Harry thought to himself, I'll never survive three days of detention with him if I keep thinking like that.
-/-/-/-/-
Draco was feeling very happy with himself this evening.
As he strolled oh-so-casually into the Great Hall for dinner, he felt Potter's gaze on him instantly. The green eyes were burning a hole into his back, and he smiled to himself. I wonder if these detentions will allow me to get those eyes to gaze at me in a different way. Draco deliberately chose a seat at the Slytherin table across from Potter, and made sure to ignore him as best possible. He ate little and waited until he could no longer feel Potter's eyes boring into his back. Draco then turned around and began staring at Potter, leaning back against the table. A small smile stretched across his lips as he watched Potter's back and shoulders, trying to imagine the physique under those blasted Gryffindor robes. He guessed that the body hidden beneath it was slim and toned, but he could not tell. Potter turned around, then, and Draco sucked in a sharp breath as those bright green eyes made contact with his own grey ones. The startling and sharp color gazing at him in such a way sent a warm feeling down Draco's gut, and straight to his groin. He then realized that Potter had caught him staring, and scowled, flushing slightly in embarrassment. Surprisingly, Potter flushed as well, his face splotching red. Draco's heart did a funny jolt, seeing Potter obviously bothered and embarrassed about something. It was a secret that he hadn't told anybody, crushing on Potter; his so-called friends would have roasted him over a fire if they found out, and then killed Potter for good measure. Of course, ever since third year, he had been positive that it would pass. By the time the War of Hogwarts had rolled around, Draco was sure that he was in love with Harry Bloody Potter.
"Draco, who are you staring at?" Pansy Parkinson hissed into his ear. Draco continued to keep up eye contact with Potter, who in turn did as well. Draco was glad for robes, because those intense green eyes were about to arouse him enough to cause him to excuse himself to take care of a little 'problem.'
"Oh, no one. Go back to your dinner," he snapped absently. Pansy huffed, but turned back to her meal, leaving Draco to continue staring at Potter. He grinned, and closed one eye in a slow wink. Potter blinked once, and raised his eyebrows. He pointed to himself after looking around, and Draco nodded. Potter then proceeded to blush again, his whole face heating up. Draco's breath hitched, and he quickly excused himself, going quickly back up to his dorm.
-/-/-/-/-
Harry glanced at the clock as he played a game of Exploding Snap with Ron in the common room, biting his lip. Only fifteen minutes, and I'll be in detention. Alone. With Malfoy, of all people. With a heavy sigh, Harry stood up, expression set in grim determination. Ron stood up as well, expression nervous.
"Good luck, mate. Don't kill him, or you might as well have detention for the rest of the year," Ron said, clapping him on the back. Harry rolled his eyes, folding his Invisibility Cloak and shrinking it so he could fit it in his pocket, along with the Marauder's Map.
"If I don't have to deal with Malfoy anymore, then the detention will be worth it," he retorted with a wry grin. Ron chuckled, rolling his eyes.
"It wouldn't be worth it if you had detention with Snape," he pointed out. Harry groaned in annoyance, but grinned at Ron to show he appreciated the joke. Waving goodbye, Harry stepped out of the portrait hole, and headed towards the Charms classroom for detention.
-/-/-/-/-
Draco strolled through the corridors towards the Charms classroom with a mischievous grin on his face. It was worth it to constantly send notes with petty insults and innuendos to Potter and act like he was replying to messages already sent to get detention. Professor Flitwick had gotten so angry at the murmurs spreading through the room that he threatened to give detention to them with Draco and Potter if they didn't quiet. The room fell silent immediately, knowing all too well about how nasty the bitter rivalry between Draco and Potter could get. And so Professor Flitwick gave them a detention alone with each other for three nights in a row, and promised them both that privacy wards and easily repairable items would be in the classroom, but that they would have to be there for four hours. Each night they would have one hour after dinner to settle themselves. The arrangements were appreciated greatly by Draco, who had planned to confess his feelings for Potter in the first, try and hint for an answer the second, and if he was lucky, shag him the third. It was a very delicate plan, and mostly relied on Harry's own feelings, but he hoped against all odds that it would work. Draco knocked on the door to the Charms classroom, and suppressed a smile when Potter opened the door, an expression of distaste marring his handsome features. Potter stepped aside and gave barely enough room for Draco to step in. As the door shut, Professor Flitwick looked up from his desk work and nodded shortly, offering a tight smile.
"Well, boys, I hope you repair everything before you leave," he said briskly, gathering up his papers. Draco nodded, while Potter merely crossed his arms and shot Draco a glare. Flitwick left the room, shutting the door. The privacy wards snapped into place as soon as the two were alone, shimmering lightly. Draco turned to look at Potter, who had settled himself on the nearest desk and was staring at Draco with unfathomable eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing, merely waiting for Draco to make a move. Well then. If that's how he was going to play.
"Hey Potter, I wanted to talk to you about something," Draco started, voice calm and steady. Potter raised an eyebrow, but otherwise stayed silent. Draco steeled himself and continued on.
"I'd like to admit something. A lot of things, actually." At this, Potter sat up straighter, his muscles loosening from a tension that Draco did not notice before.
"During first year, when I asked for your hand in friendship, and you declined, I was so… hurt. And then I saw you making friends with Weasley and Granger, and I just got angry. I was jealous of your friendship with them. At the time, I thought you were supposed to be friends with me, and that they were just in the way. But then I observed them, and you, and realized your friendship was genuine, and that they really cared about you. The anger turned back into hurt, and I just wanted to feel better by hurting you too.
"In third year, I started noticing you in a different light than just wanting to be your friend. I thought it was odd that I started noticing how graceful you looked on a broom, or how wonderfully artful your messy hair was. How green, how bright your eyes were. I finally concluded that it was a crush, but at first denied it profusely.
"Then I sat and thought about it. About what it would be like to get along with you. To be with you. I found that I quite liked the idea." Draco looked up from beneath his fringe at Potter, who still had his arms crossed, but he was slouching heavily in his chair. Potter's head was down, his shaggy hair covering his face. Draco took a deep breath and continued.
"So I slowly came to accept the crush, but was sure that it would fade over time. I waited, and waited for that day to come. Oh boy, it never did. And then the Battle of Hogwarts came, and when I realized you were still alive, I was so happy. That's why I ran back to you, gave you back your wand so you could defeat the Dark Lord. And… that's when I realized…" Draco trailed off, uncertain. Potter's head snapped up, his arms becoming uncrossed as he stood up. Draco watched Potter approach him with bated breath, expecting the worst. Potter stopped just in front of Draco, green eyes assessing him. Draco fidgeted nervously when several strained moments passed and Potter still didn't say anything. Eventually Potter smiled softly, and moved forward.
"What did you realize, Malfoy?" Potter whispered.
"Draco." Potter blinked. Draco smiled.
"After all that talking about feelings and such, I feel you should call me Draco," he explained. Potter smiled again, and nodded.
"Alright, then. What did you realize… Draco?" Potter shifted forward more, his body nudging Draco's knees open. He stood between Draco's legs, hands hovering over Draco's waist. He sucked in a startled breath, but tried to suppress his surprise. It seemed as though Potter was speeding along with Draco's plans. That was just fine with him.
"I… I realized that I…. I realized that I had fallen in love with you," Draco whispered. Potter's eyes widened in surprise, but he did not move away. Instead, his hands settled gently on Draco's waist, as he stepped forward so that their bodies were pressed against each other. Draco allowed his eyes to flutter shut as Potter leaned forward, his breath ghosting over Draco's lips.
"Draco… Do you really…. Mean that?" Potter whispered. Draco sighed softly as his hands rose to wrap around Potter's neck.
"Yes, I mean it. I'm in love with you, Potter. Technically, have been since third year," Draco murmured in response. Potter sighed as well, but Draco couldn't see his expression, as his eyes were still closed.
"Well then... would you like to kiss me?" Potter whispered. Draco noticed dimly that he was trembling, but could not steel himself. Potter was right there! How could he possibly control himself when Potter had just jumped his plans two days? Draco moved his hands up to cup the back of Potter's head, feeling the somewhat soft, unruly hair at the nape of his neck.
"Please, can I kiss you?" Draco murmured. He was also noticing, as if from a distance, that he had practically begged. Once again, he could not bring himself to care. Potter chuckled softly, his breath ghosting across Draco's mouth. Draco licked his lips to try to ground himself, his plan failing immediately when his tongue met Potter's lips. Draco nearly pulled back in surprise, but his own thoughts were cut off by his soft moan as Potter opened his mouth and sucked gently on Draco's tongue. Potter then proceeded to kiss him so wonderfully Draco almost fell off the desk. His arms wrapped around Draco's waist, pressing as close as he could get as their mouths slanted against each other. And of course, just because of the kissing behind privacy wards for four hours was all that it really was, Draco would always say that was the best detention he'd ever had. Of course, it would be a long time before he ever told Potter -Harry- that.