Title: One Winter Night...
Author: SeCrEtLy
E-mail: ThEoThErSiDe15@hotmail.com
Category: SLASH
Sub-Category: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG-13 / R
Spoilers: All 4 Books
Ship: D/H
Summary: One night, Harry gets a of the real Draco Malfoy......
Disclaimer: 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.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The tiny, white dots floating in the chilly air signified the beginning of winter. The sky was covered with a thin-looking sheet of gray, and the snowflakes drifted down lazily, as if taking their time on landing.
It was an amazingly beautiful late-November night. Hogwarts looked like a magnificent ginger-bread house with vanilla frosting on the roof-tops. The whole castle, despite the recent events, had a peaceful atmosphere to it, and the absence of lights made one believe that everyone (or atleast mostly everyone), was sleeping deeply. Except...
He was hardly noticeable - just a tiny speck of black in the snow, but he was there. Lying on his back in the middle of the Quidditch field was Harry Potter himself. He had his arms behind his head; his glasses resting on his stomach. His eyes opened for a moment, before he closed them to enjoy the feeling of tiny, cold and wet specks land daintily on his face. The boy was quite unguarded - but that was understandable, seeing as he went to this space frequently to clear his mind and pretend that for one moment, he was not Harry Potter, just merely a normal teenager.
Upon making the first step inside Hogwarts for his 5th year, he knew that another adventure was in store for him - but not a pleasant one. Now that Voldemort was restored to his body, he had not taken a moments' rest. The Dark Side was growing stronger, and unfortunately, so was Voldemort. The first attack he made out in the public was destroying the entire village of Little Hangleton, where Voldemort's father lived. And that attack just happened to be during a Quidditch Match against Slytherin - not entirely good. Harry's searing scar had made him almost let go of his broom completely, but he had gotten down to the ground just in time. The Gryffindors called a 'time-out' and dragged him along to the changing rooms where the whole Quidditch Team saw Harry witness a vision. He was white-faced, trembling, and yelling out incoherent things. The only thing that was understandable was the word "Voldemort". As time went by, the Gryiffindors didn't exactly realize how much time they spent in the lockers trying to help until Albus Dumbledore strolled in and saw the raven-haired boy clutching his scar and screaming out curses. The Quidditch match was cancelled, then rescheduled. The rest of the students were left in confusion (except perhaps the Gryffindors) as to why this was so, but Draco Malfoy was more than glad to fill everyone in with a wonderful little act as to what happened to Harry.
Pain...so much pain. And agony. Harry shuddered on the ground, and it wasn't from the cold. Sleep was no longer an escape for him, for even there, he was haunted with nightmares of his parents and the Third Task of the TW Tournament. Coming to his favorite place at night was a way of keeping himself sane, even if it meant having to risk being caught by patrolling teachers - and let's not exclue Filch and Mrs.Norris.
Harry cleared his thoughts again, and relaxed every muscle in his body into the hard, cold ground. He was so into this relaxation exercise, that he didn't even hear the CRUNCH CRUNCH of footsteps behind him stepping on snow.
"Potter," said a voice matching the weather.
Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up gripping his wand, quite startled. Putting on his glasses hastily, he turned around and met a pair of narrowed, silver eyes. Unknown anger built inside of him.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"I was taking a walk." the blonde said lazily, "And I saw you lying here like a moronic idiot. I didn't see any blood around you, so I knew you were still alive."
"Gee, thanks for caring." Harry said sarcastically.
"I don't." Malfoy retorted, sounding annoyed.
"Can you leave now?"
"Well, seeing as you're irritated with my presence, I think I'll hang around and mope with you."
"I'm NOT moping." Harry's green eyes radiated with obvious hate. "Can't you just leave me in peace?"
But Malfoy sat down instead.
"What are you doing out here, anyway? Crying over the pains in your utterly pathetic life?" he drawled.
"I should be asking you the same thing, pretty boy." Harry seethed, trying to control his anger.
"Or maybe you're trying to attract some trouble so you can save the day again?"
Harry looked at Malfoy with something like an offended look.
"Yeah, Malfoy. I was just about to tape a sign on my forehead that says 'Come and get me Death Eaters!' Do you need your head checked? Oh wait...I can answer that for you. After all your daddy did, he probably brainwashed you. 'There is no evil - just power and those to weak to use it.' "
Malfoy's eyes widened a bit.
"What, didn't think I'd know that, now did you? Thought it was just a rule in the 'Malfoy Family Rule Book' or something. Well guess WHAT Malfoy? It's not. It's something that Voldemort said, not your father. He said the same thing to me, too."
The Slytherin's eyes narrowed as he said, "Leave my father out of this, scar-head."
"Why the hell should I?" Harry said angrily, remembering Lucius laughing pitylessly at him while dueling with the Dark Lord.
Malfoy didn't answer. Instead, he layed on his back in the same position Harry was in before, with his arms behind his head. Then, he closed his eyes. As the snow fell around them, Harry's anger subsided with the odd silence. Something made him stare at Malfoy, and his eyes went over every detail of him without realizing what he was doing so.
White, pale but oddly glowing skin, long black eyelashes, hair so gold it looked white and made the snow look like a light
shade of grey. Harry watched as a snowflake drifted down and as though it were slow-motion, saw it land on his perfect, slightly parted lips.
Suddenly, he felt hot and bothered. He looked away, and concentrated on his breath coming out in clouds of vapor in front of him.
The silence was broken by quiet laughter, but it grew louder and louder until Malfoy was gasping for breath. Harry felt extremely confused and looked at him for an explanation , with a stare that was declaring the loss of his sanity.
"Damn, Potter. And here I thought you weren't selfish, seeing as you're the hero and everything." His eyes opened.
"What in the name of all that is Holy are you talking about?" Harry inquired.
"Do you think you're the only one who's suffering? The only one who's having a hard time? Do you think other people aren't going through a worse time than you are? Do you?" Malfoy's voice had lost its humor and he spat the question out as if it were a disease.
"I'm not selfish! I don't know what your twisted mind is getting at, Malfoy. If you're talking about yourself, then stop with the bullshit. You're rich, you've got a family, and if you want something you can get it with a snap of your fingers.You don't know what suffering is. You never will."
Harry's words lingered in the air, and Malfoy's body became stiff. He sat up and looked disbelieving at the green pools before him.
"I don't know what suffering is?" he asked in a strained voice. "You're saying that I've never felt pain, never felt insecurity, or fear." Harry's eyebrows wrinkled. Why did Malfoy look so weird?
Without warning, the blonde grabbed Harry's collar roughly and shook him, yelling, "YOU don't know me, know my family, and you sure as HELL don't know what I've been through, O GREAT Harry Potter!" he scoffed maliciously. He let go of Harry and stood up on his feet, and took his jacket and sweater off with quick haste. He then ripped open his white button-down shirt, and pointed to a larg, thick scar under his heart and yelled out,
"Is THIS suffering? Is THIS? and THIS!?" He pointed frantically at thin scars under his wrist, and slashes on his back. Harry sat there dumbly, taking in the sight before him, staying seated on the ground. Malfoy threw his arms out.
"You're right, Potter, you're RIGHT. I DON'T know what pain is - I don't feel. Oh, no, to SUFFER, I have lose my parents, and duel with a DARK LORD. But nope, I didn't do THAT, so I guess I'm out of your league. I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and I have the most loving family on this earth! My father's a Death Eater - "
"Malfoy! I -"
"- and he just loves to show his affection by spilling my blood for FUN. And my mother's a whore who can't even remember my God-damn NAME..."
Harry quickly got to his feet and shook Malfoy by gripping his arms.
"Stop! STOP! Get a HOLD of yourself!" he yelled back. But Malfoy pushed him away.
"What do you mean, 'Get a hold of yourself'?! FUCK you, Potter. I HATE you, and I don't have to listen to your crap!"
"Then what are you trying to prove? What are you trying to SAY?" Harry yelled back.
"What I'm trying to say is that YOU have had it easy! People fawn over you, trip at your feet, kiss the ground you walk on! And all because you did something you can't even REMEMBER. But they don't care, because it's done. Whether you remembered it or not. While YOU'RE getting all the attention and glory, I'm going throught THIS." Malfoy held his wrists out again. "Everyone here is so stupid, it's unbelievable. Even Ravenclaws. 'Oh look! There goes Draco Malfoy and his cronies! He's so rich, and his father gives him anything he wants, he must be soooo happy!" his voice had gone all sqeaky as if to imitate a girl speaking. "Well, NEWSFLASH, Potter! I have exactly 3 days to make up my mind on which side I'm going to be on in this war. If I choose the wrong side, it means death."
Harry stared at him, finally understanding.
"And I don't want to die." Malfoy unconciously rubbed his left arm, the place where he might just be marked for the rest of his life. Their gazes didn't waver - they both looked at one another.
"I hate you." Malfoy said again, but this time, he whispered it like a silent hex. He shrank down to the snow still topless and hung his head resembling his defeat.
Hesitantly, Harry did the same, kneeling down next to him. While he held his head in his hands, the Gryffindor built up the courage to reach out his arm and touch Malfoy's cold shoulder. It stiffened immediately, but in time it relaxed very reluctantly. Then he looked up and made eye contact.
There was so much sadness and defeat there, Harry was astonished. It looked like he had lost all hope whatsoever. It was the rarest thing to see him look so...broken down.
"Draco...why don't you...put on your jacket? You'll freeze to death." Harry said quietly.
Malfoy's pupils dialiated with surprise.
"You said my name." he stated simply.
"I can help you." Harry said almost timidly. There was a pause.
"How?"
"We'll find a way."
"You sound so confident." Malfoy said softly. His tone carried a bit of envy.
"You over-estimate me." Harry replied. He suddenly had a vision of witches and wizards staring at him and pointing at his scar, and he felt weary. Malfoy looked at him as if sensing his change of mood.
Harry felt his cheeks tinge red at the intensity of his stare. It was as if Malfoy was seeing through him, and he felt invaded.
"Why are you turning red?" Malfoy whispered. He slowly reached out an icy cold hand and pressed it against Harry's cheek. His green eyes went wide at the cold shock, but what shocked him the more was the fact that Malfoy's hand began to move down and trace his jaw-line. Without thinking, Harry closed his eyes as he felt fingers brushing against his lips at an agonizingly slow pace. His breathing became ragged against his will, and he opened his eyes again to see Draco looking at him with some sort of comprehension in his eyes.
"Harry," he said simply, testing the word carefully for the first time. Harry's heart beat faster involuntarily, and he felt the blood pounding in his ears.
"Yes." he responded back. His voice seemed to have gone all husky...
Harry felt his eyes close again, when the tracing with the fingers became a caress. Draco looked at him intently - watching the snowflakes land in the nest of black hair, staring mainly at his lips, knowing that Harry was quivering even with his coat on. All thoughts left his mind, but one remained. And he then decided to turn that thought in to an action:
With no regrets, Draco leaned in slowly, ignoring the stinging cold in his chest and back. He removed his glasses carefully, but Harry remained unmoving. His face got closer and closer unitl Draco closed his own eyes and...
Cold lips met hot ones.
The world started spinning and spinning, and his heart was racing, and he no longer felt the cold. It was exhilarating beyond anything he'd ever done before. Harry shook violently, not knowing what to do, or why he was doing this with someone who was supposed to be his enemy. He was too light-headed to think, too paralyzed to move. But he responded back when a soft, warm tongue opened his mouth more.
'What is this?' Harry thought vaguely. His arm made its way down Draco's back which was wet form the melted snow. Draco took this as a cue to press Harry against him, and Harry's shirt was dampened.
Disbelief and bliss.
Only those two words could describe what he was feeling.
Draco's arm wrapped around the back of his neck, and that's when Harry could no longer stay up. He pulled the Slytherin boy down with him to the ground and the kiss intensified.
It had started out softly...hesitantly. Now, they were entwined on the ground, not concentrating on anything except what they were doing, desperate for more, but not quite sure why this all felt so good.
Draco broke the kiss gently, and he looked striaght at Harry and awaited the reaction of the other boy. He could tell immediately by those beautiful green eyes that he was enjoying every second of it - but there was much confusion.
"I...I don't know why I did that." Draco said weakly, his voice shaking noticeably. He had been expecting a hard shove, or even a punch in the face, but Harry layed quite still underneath him, not making notion at all to move. His cheeks were red giving him a healthy look, and his eyes were filled with a strange brightness that was not there before. Draco trailed his eyes down to his lips...and he was greatly tempted to kiss them again.
"I don't know why..." Draco began, but Harry cut him,
"What's done, is done."
"And...and you don't regret it?" The silver eyes looked vulnerable and worried.
"No, not at all." Harry said sheepishly.
Draco broke into his first, true grin with no trace of malice, or evil in it. He looked like a care-free angel.
"Me neither." He shivered violently.
"Put on your things. It's not going to stop snowing anytime soon, and you're going to get sick. You look like you're about to get frostbite!"
There was a small pause.
"No." Draco buried his face into Harry's neck and kissed it softly. "For once, I feel warm."
And Harry smiled.
Author: SeCrEtLy
E-mail: ThEoThErSiDe15@hotmail.com
Category: SLASH
Sub-Category: Romance/Angst
Rating: PG-13 / R
Spoilers: All 4 Books
Ship: D/H
Summary: One night, Harry gets a of the real Draco Malfoy......
Disclaimer: 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.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The tiny, white dots floating in the chilly air signified the beginning of winter. The sky was covered with a thin-looking sheet of gray, and the snowflakes drifted down lazily, as if taking their time on landing.
It was an amazingly beautiful late-November night. Hogwarts looked like a magnificent ginger-bread house with vanilla frosting on the roof-tops. The whole castle, despite the recent events, had a peaceful atmosphere to it, and the absence of lights made one believe that everyone (or atleast mostly everyone), was sleeping deeply. Except...
He was hardly noticeable - just a tiny speck of black in the snow, but he was there. Lying on his back in the middle of the Quidditch field was Harry Potter himself. He had his arms behind his head; his glasses resting on his stomach. His eyes opened for a moment, before he closed them to enjoy the feeling of tiny, cold and wet specks land daintily on his face. The boy was quite unguarded - but that was understandable, seeing as he went to this space frequently to clear his mind and pretend that for one moment, he was not Harry Potter, just merely a normal teenager.
Upon making the first step inside Hogwarts for his 5th year, he knew that another adventure was in store for him - but not a pleasant one. Now that Voldemort was restored to his body, he had not taken a moments' rest. The Dark Side was growing stronger, and unfortunately, so was Voldemort. The first attack he made out in the public was destroying the entire village of Little Hangleton, where Voldemort's father lived. And that attack just happened to be during a Quidditch Match against Slytherin - not entirely good. Harry's searing scar had made him almost let go of his broom completely, but he had gotten down to the ground just in time. The Gryffindors called a 'time-out' and dragged him along to the changing rooms where the whole Quidditch Team saw Harry witness a vision. He was white-faced, trembling, and yelling out incoherent things. The only thing that was understandable was the word "Voldemort". As time went by, the Gryiffindors didn't exactly realize how much time they spent in the lockers trying to help until Albus Dumbledore strolled in and saw the raven-haired boy clutching his scar and screaming out curses. The Quidditch match was cancelled, then rescheduled. The rest of the students were left in confusion (except perhaps the Gryffindors) as to why this was so, but Draco Malfoy was more than glad to fill everyone in with a wonderful little act as to what happened to Harry.
Pain...so much pain. And agony. Harry shuddered on the ground, and it wasn't from the cold. Sleep was no longer an escape for him, for even there, he was haunted with nightmares of his parents and the Third Task of the TW Tournament. Coming to his favorite place at night was a way of keeping himself sane, even if it meant having to risk being caught by patrolling teachers - and let's not exclue Filch and Mrs.Norris.
Harry cleared his thoughts again, and relaxed every muscle in his body into the hard, cold ground. He was so into this relaxation exercise, that he didn't even hear the CRUNCH CRUNCH of footsteps behind him stepping on snow.
"Potter," said a voice matching the weather.
Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat up gripping his wand, quite startled. Putting on his glasses hastily, he turned around and met a pair of narrowed, silver eyes. Unknown anger built inside of him.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"I was taking a walk." the blonde said lazily, "And I saw you lying here like a moronic idiot. I didn't see any blood around you, so I knew you were still alive."
"Gee, thanks for caring." Harry said sarcastically.
"I don't." Malfoy retorted, sounding annoyed.
"Can you leave now?"
"Well, seeing as you're irritated with my presence, I think I'll hang around and mope with you."
"I'm NOT moping." Harry's green eyes radiated with obvious hate. "Can't you just leave me in peace?"
But Malfoy sat down instead.
"What are you doing out here, anyway? Crying over the pains in your utterly pathetic life?" he drawled.
"I should be asking you the same thing, pretty boy." Harry seethed, trying to control his anger.
"Or maybe you're trying to attract some trouble so you can save the day again?"
Harry looked at Malfoy with something like an offended look.
"Yeah, Malfoy. I was just about to tape a sign on my forehead that says 'Come and get me Death Eaters!' Do you need your head checked? Oh wait...I can answer that for you. After all your daddy did, he probably brainwashed you. 'There is no evil - just power and those to weak to use it.' "
Malfoy's eyes widened a bit.
"What, didn't think I'd know that, now did you? Thought it was just a rule in the 'Malfoy Family Rule Book' or something. Well guess WHAT Malfoy? It's not. It's something that Voldemort said, not your father. He said the same thing to me, too."
The Slytherin's eyes narrowed as he said, "Leave my father out of this, scar-head."
"Why the hell should I?" Harry said angrily, remembering Lucius laughing pitylessly at him while dueling with the Dark Lord.
Malfoy didn't answer. Instead, he layed on his back in the same position Harry was in before, with his arms behind his head. Then, he closed his eyes. As the snow fell around them, Harry's anger subsided with the odd silence. Something made him stare at Malfoy, and his eyes went over every detail of him without realizing what he was doing so.
White, pale but oddly glowing skin, long black eyelashes, hair so gold it looked white and made the snow look like a light
shade of grey. Harry watched as a snowflake drifted down and as though it were slow-motion, saw it land on his perfect, slightly parted lips.
Suddenly, he felt hot and bothered. He looked away, and concentrated on his breath coming out in clouds of vapor in front of him.
The silence was broken by quiet laughter, but it grew louder and louder until Malfoy was gasping for breath. Harry felt extremely confused and looked at him for an explanation , with a stare that was declaring the loss of his sanity.
"Damn, Potter. And here I thought you weren't selfish, seeing as you're the hero and everything." His eyes opened.
"What in the name of all that is Holy are you talking about?" Harry inquired.
"Do you think you're the only one who's suffering? The only one who's having a hard time? Do you think other people aren't going through a worse time than you are? Do you?" Malfoy's voice had lost its humor and he spat the question out as if it were a disease.
"I'm not selfish! I don't know what your twisted mind is getting at, Malfoy. If you're talking about yourself, then stop with the bullshit. You're rich, you've got a family, and if you want something you can get it with a snap of your fingers.You don't know what suffering is. You never will."
Harry's words lingered in the air, and Malfoy's body became stiff. He sat up and looked disbelieving at the green pools before him.
"I don't know what suffering is?" he asked in a strained voice. "You're saying that I've never felt pain, never felt insecurity, or fear." Harry's eyebrows wrinkled. Why did Malfoy look so weird?
Without warning, the blonde grabbed Harry's collar roughly and shook him, yelling, "YOU don't know me, know my family, and you sure as HELL don't know what I've been through, O GREAT Harry Potter!" he scoffed maliciously. He let go of Harry and stood up on his feet, and took his jacket and sweater off with quick haste. He then ripped open his white button-down shirt, and pointed to a larg, thick scar under his heart and yelled out,
"Is THIS suffering? Is THIS? and THIS!?" He pointed frantically at thin scars under his wrist, and slashes on his back. Harry sat there dumbly, taking in the sight before him, staying seated on the ground. Malfoy threw his arms out.
"You're right, Potter, you're RIGHT. I DON'T know what pain is - I don't feel. Oh, no, to SUFFER, I have lose my parents, and duel with a DARK LORD. But nope, I didn't do THAT, so I guess I'm out of your league. I'm Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and I have the most loving family on this earth! My father's a Death Eater - "
"Malfoy! I -"
"- and he just loves to show his affection by spilling my blood for FUN. And my mother's a whore who can't even remember my God-damn NAME..."
Harry quickly got to his feet and shook Malfoy by gripping his arms.
"Stop! STOP! Get a HOLD of yourself!" he yelled back. But Malfoy pushed him away.
"What do you mean, 'Get a hold of yourself'?! FUCK you, Potter. I HATE you, and I don't have to listen to your crap!"
"Then what are you trying to prove? What are you trying to SAY?" Harry yelled back.
"What I'm trying to say is that YOU have had it easy! People fawn over you, trip at your feet, kiss the ground you walk on! And all because you did something you can't even REMEMBER. But they don't care, because it's done. Whether you remembered it or not. While YOU'RE getting all the attention and glory, I'm going throught THIS." Malfoy held his wrists out again. "Everyone here is so stupid, it's unbelievable. Even Ravenclaws. 'Oh look! There goes Draco Malfoy and his cronies! He's so rich, and his father gives him anything he wants, he must be soooo happy!" his voice had gone all sqeaky as if to imitate a girl speaking. "Well, NEWSFLASH, Potter! I have exactly 3 days to make up my mind on which side I'm going to be on in this war. If I choose the wrong side, it means death."
Harry stared at him, finally understanding.
"And I don't want to die." Malfoy unconciously rubbed his left arm, the place where he might just be marked for the rest of his life. Their gazes didn't waver - they both looked at one another.
"I hate you." Malfoy said again, but this time, he whispered it like a silent hex. He shrank down to the snow still topless and hung his head resembling his defeat.
Hesitantly, Harry did the same, kneeling down next to him. While he held his head in his hands, the Gryffindor built up the courage to reach out his arm and touch Malfoy's cold shoulder. It stiffened immediately, but in time it relaxed very reluctantly. Then he looked up and made eye contact.
There was so much sadness and defeat there, Harry was astonished. It looked like he had lost all hope whatsoever. It was the rarest thing to see him look so...broken down.
"Draco...why don't you...put on your jacket? You'll freeze to death." Harry said quietly.
Malfoy's pupils dialiated with surprise.
"You said my name." he stated simply.
"I can help you." Harry said almost timidly. There was a pause.
"How?"
"We'll find a way."
"You sound so confident." Malfoy said softly. His tone carried a bit of envy.
"You over-estimate me." Harry replied. He suddenly had a vision of witches and wizards staring at him and pointing at his scar, and he felt weary. Malfoy looked at him as if sensing his change of mood.
Harry felt his cheeks tinge red at the intensity of his stare. It was as if Malfoy was seeing through him, and he felt invaded.
"Why are you turning red?" Malfoy whispered. He slowly reached out an icy cold hand and pressed it against Harry's cheek. His green eyes went wide at the cold shock, but what shocked him the more was the fact that Malfoy's hand began to move down and trace his jaw-line. Without thinking, Harry closed his eyes as he felt fingers brushing against his lips at an agonizingly slow pace. His breathing became ragged against his will, and he opened his eyes again to see Draco looking at him with some sort of comprehension in his eyes.
"Harry," he said simply, testing the word carefully for the first time. Harry's heart beat faster involuntarily, and he felt the blood pounding in his ears.
"Yes." he responded back. His voice seemed to have gone all husky...
Harry felt his eyes close again, when the tracing with the fingers became a caress. Draco looked at him intently - watching the snowflakes land in the nest of black hair, staring mainly at his lips, knowing that Harry was quivering even with his coat on. All thoughts left his mind, but one remained. And he then decided to turn that thought in to an action:
With no regrets, Draco leaned in slowly, ignoring the stinging cold in his chest and back. He removed his glasses carefully, but Harry remained unmoving. His face got closer and closer unitl Draco closed his own eyes and...
Cold lips met hot ones.
The world started spinning and spinning, and his heart was racing, and he no longer felt the cold. It was exhilarating beyond anything he'd ever done before. Harry shook violently, not knowing what to do, or why he was doing this with someone who was supposed to be his enemy. He was too light-headed to think, too paralyzed to move. But he responded back when a soft, warm tongue opened his mouth more.
'What is this?' Harry thought vaguely. His arm made its way down Draco's back which was wet form the melted snow. Draco took this as a cue to press Harry against him, and Harry's shirt was dampened.
Disbelief and bliss.
Only those two words could describe what he was feeling.
Draco's arm wrapped around the back of his neck, and that's when Harry could no longer stay up. He pulled the Slytherin boy down with him to the ground and the kiss intensified.
It had started out softly...hesitantly. Now, they were entwined on the ground, not concentrating on anything except what they were doing, desperate for more, but not quite sure why this all felt so good.
Draco broke the kiss gently, and he looked striaght at Harry and awaited the reaction of the other boy. He could tell immediately by those beautiful green eyes that he was enjoying every second of it - but there was much confusion.
"I...I don't know why I did that." Draco said weakly, his voice shaking noticeably. He had been expecting a hard shove, or even a punch in the face, but Harry layed quite still underneath him, not making notion at all to move. His cheeks were red giving him a healthy look, and his eyes were filled with a strange brightness that was not there before. Draco trailed his eyes down to his lips...and he was greatly tempted to kiss them again.
"I don't know why..." Draco began, but Harry cut him,
"What's done, is done."
"And...and you don't regret it?" The silver eyes looked vulnerable and worried.
"No, not at all." Harry said sheepishly.
Draco broke into his first, true grin with no trace of malice, or evil in it. He looked like a care-free angel.
"Me neither." He shivered violently.
"Put on your things. It's not going to stop snowing anytime soon, and you're going to get sick. You look like you're about to get frostbite!"
There was a small pause.
"No." Draco buried his face into Harry's neck and kissed it softly. "For once, I feel warm."
And Harry smiled.
