Title: Summertime Blues
Author: Eppy
E-mail: LizzyPaul@yahoo.com

Rating: PG13
Paring: Harry/Draco
Category: Romance, Depressed!Harry
Spoilers: Everything through GoF is fair game.
Timeline: Beginning of summer (ah, big surprise) of their seventh year
Summary: Draco gets tired of Harry's attitude.

Feedback: Criticisms will be thoughtfully considered. Flames will be passed around to friends and mocked. Know the difference. I love feedback. It's my drug. It always encourages me to write more.
Archive: If you want it, it's yours, just tell me where it's going and please keep my name and info attached. Stealing is bad!

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K. Rowling. Big surprise! I'm not trying to corrupt innocent children, bring down civilization as we know it, or even turn a profit from this thing. I'm just writing a story. For my amusement and the amusement of others (I hope). Therefore, if you are a lawyer, please realize I have no money, you will get nothing from me, so take your suing powers elsewhere.

Warning: Slash...boy/boy love...deal with it or bail, your choice...

OWTS!

*~*~*

I'd left the dungeons earlier that day to go for a walk. The others were driving me insane. They were all packing like mad, having left it all for today. I mean honestly, they knew we had to leave the same time I did, yet I was the *only* one prepared. And they were prattling like a bunch of old ladies at a tea party, 'Oh what are *you* going to do?' and 'I'll keep in touch' and 'You're simply the best friend I ever had.' It was just a sentimental orgy in there. You'd think we were all a bunch of Hufflepuffs.

I chalk it up to summer.

I hate summer.

For one thing...summer makes me think thoughts. Bad thoughts. Thoughts about...happiness. I'm not explaining this well. Winter...in winter you can be holed up in the underbelly of some house somewhere and be miserable. Spring, too, if you live in the right area. Too much rain. But *summer*. It's something about the way there's too much sunshine, too much air maybe, and there are flowers growing and people and animals frolicking...

Dear God, I cannot believe that I, Draco Malfoy, used the word 'frolicking' in a sentence. It's summer. The summer air is getting to me. I better go inside before it contaminates me anymore. Any minute I'm going to break into song or some such nonsense.

It's not that I object to happiness, understand. I'm not one of those who believe you should mope around all the time, live in the deep sadness of your soul. That's boring. That's predictable. That's Harry Potter. But Jovial Gladness is not something to be strived for either. Happy people, really happy people, tend to make fools of themselves quite often. And if there's one thing I want to avoid more than anything else...

Lost in thought, I nearly smacked into the other reason I really, really hate summer.

Harry Potter.

The Boy Who Lived.

The Boy Who Lived To Torment Draco Malfoy.

The Boy Who Is Very Depressed and so is now the boy who is The Boy Who Is Remiss In His Duties.

I snuck behind a wall before he could see he. I don't know why I bothered. It's not like he'd care if he knew I was watching him. Hell, I could fly right next to him on my Firebolt Gold and he wouldn't even do a thing. Bloody pouf.

I sighed. He certainly is remiss in his duties. I haven't been good and tormented since Cedric died. Well, you could count the train ride, but he didn't do much there. Mostly his friends work. Nope, Harry Potter has been seriously negligent.

See, ever since I saw him that first day, I knew I was going to have to be with him, in some capacity. Now my eleven year old brain really wasn't thinking 'lover' right then, but it would have gotten there eventually. I was thinking more along the terms of housemates and friends and partners. Call it his charismatic draw.

But, alas, that didn't work. No, he rejected me for the *Weasel*. And then, for that Granger girl. Who unfortunately I have a grudging respect for, which pisses me off. I have nothing but contempt for the Boy Blunder, thank God.

It was okay, though. I still got to be with Potter. I got to be the Mortal Enemy. Because every Beloved Hero needs a Mortal Enemy, right? I was mean to him, he was mean to me, all was well and good. Or bad. I was still *with* him.

And then because of that idiot Cedric dying, it all went to hell. He hasn't responded to any of my jabs. He just looks at me, then walks on. I can insult his friends, his family, muggles, Cedric, anything, and he takes it. Like...like he's broken or something. And *I* look like an insensitive lout, which maybe I am, but damnit *he's* the one who's not living up to the end of the bargin...

You know, I'm not going to take it anymore. This is insane. The school year's almost over, we leave tomorrow, and I'm probably never going to see him again. This is my last chance. After tomorrow, he'll disappear forever, not wanting to have anything to do with the world he's supposed to be in.

Feeling a bit like Shylock out to collect his pound of flesh, I marched over to where he was standing. (Yes, I read Shakespeare. No, I don't feel guilty for reading a Muggle play. It's not for Muggles. Case in point, there are Witches in McBeth and a ghost in Hamlet. Obviously, it's for the Wizarding world. Besides, Shakespeare is brilliant.)

Potter looked up, the normal apathetic look on his face. He waited for me to talk. I didn't talk. I exploded. Right in his face, spittle flying everywhere.

"Would you just punch me already?!" I screamed.

Harry stepped back, a little stunned. Good, a different look than the bored, defeated one. I moved back into his space. "Punch me!" I yelled. "Kick me! Cast a spell, if you dare! I don't care! Just do something!"

I was breathing heavily. I was next to him. It was intoxicating. So was what happened next.

After a long, tense silence, the corner of his mouth actually twitched. Not a smile, mind, a twitch, but more than I'd seen in ages. "A bit masochistic, aren't we?" He said.

Call Madame Pomfrey, my heart's about to stop. He made a joke. A stupid one, really. But a joke. I think I mumbled something like, "Jesusfuckingchrist, you made a joke," and stepped back a little.

Harry's brow furrowed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Oh please do," I whispered, in shock. I never got this many words out of him before.

He stepped forward. Invading my space. Normally, I would have taken his head off. Now I just stared up at him. "What's wrong with you today, Malfoy?"

This sort of snapped me out of my stupor. I drew myself up. "You, Harry, are what's wrong with me. You *annoy* me, really. You've been off for the last three years and it's time to pull yourself out of your depression. Grow up already."

Harry looked at me for a long time. Then slowly his face changed. I realized what was happening. He was smiling. My God. He was smiling. A low chuckle actually left his throat. I looked around frantically to see if there was someone who could help. Any minute Harry Potter was going to crack, or fall over dead, or something. I knew I'd get in big trouble if I broke The Boy.

"You mean," he said between guffaws, "that you want me to stop being depressed...because it *annoys* you?"

"Ah...yes?"

He considered me. "Doesn't that seem a bit selfish to you?"

"I am who I am, Potter."

"You called me Harry, before."

"I was trying to get a reaction."

"Right." He paused. "Why does it annoy you?"

"Because we never fight anymore," I whined.

He raised his eyebrows. "You're such a brat. No wonder your parents have you stay over the holidays so much."

I nearly kissed him. Such insults. It had been so long. "Says the boy without parents. Who has stayed every single year because NO ONE WANTS HIM."

His eyes narrowed. "Stuff it, Malfoy."

I glared back. "Make me, Potter."

He launched himself at me. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me. Our arms and legs tangled and we rolled around a bit. We threw ineffectual punches and tried unsuccessfully to kick at each other. Unfortunately, Harry was bigger and ended up on top, pinning me down.

"Bow to my superior strength?"

"Never. Geoff me, you stupid git."

"Admit who's the biggest...strongest...most powerful..." Harry began in a singsong voice.

"Kid games? Next we'll be getting our pricks out to see who has the biggest. Asshole. Get off."

"Nope," He shook his head, and little pieces of hair fell adorably into his eyes. He was all red and sweaty, and somewhere along the line his glasses had fallen off. Wow. Very tempting...damn. Now he *needed* to get off, or this could get very uncomfortable for both of us.

"Yes, you're the biggeststrongestmostpowerful GETOFF!" I yelled.

Kind of startled, Harry slid off me. Then with a glare, he moved to where I had sat up, and pulled me against him in a wrestling hold. "I don't think you meant it," he whispered in my ear.

I worked hard to keep my breathing under control, but Little Draco paid no attention to my commands. I really couldn't blame him. It was all of my erotic fantasies come to life. Hopefully Harry wouldn't look at my jeans. I cursed my decision not to wear my robes outside. I turned to look at Harry...

And found that his lips were centimeters from mine...

Oh my God...

Decisions, decisions...

And I decided that fuck all, you only live once, I was leaving tomorrow, I *needed* to do this, I dreamed about this since I was twelve years old, and if he killed me, hell, I'd die happy. Happy. Damn. It was summer. The air, making me make a fool of myself. I blame my next actions entirely on summer.

I kissed him.

And ohhhhh was it good. Like everything I ever dreamed of. His lips were soft under mine, and parted gently. Unfortunately, I was still in that goddamn hold of his so my neck hurt after two seconds and the kiss stopped. I looked into his wide eyes.

He let go of me and pushed me away. "Dra--Malfoy I'm sorry," he stuttered. He stood up, brushing the grass away.

I stood as well. "What are you on about?" Of all possible reactions, an apology wasn't one I was thinking of.

"Leave me alone," he said quickly, backing away. Ah, this was more along the lines of what I was thinking of. He tripped and fell down. I moved over to help him up.

"Stay away, Malfoy!" he yelled. I came over anyway, and reached out a hand.

"It was a kiss, Harry. I wasn't trying to rape you. I was satisfying some sordid curiosities. You needn't look so scared."

Harry ignored my hand and pulled himself up. He began to walk away. I considered his retreating figure for a moment and then hurried after him. I laid a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. I tugged on his arm. He pulled away.

"Har-ry," I whined.

He just kept walking. Faster. I had to struggle to keep up.

"You know, usually when a guy kisses another guy and the first one doesn't like it, he punches the second guy," I told him helpfully.

That slowed him up a bit. "What's *with* you?" he asked, kind of disgustedly. "Are you just into pain?"

"Whatever gets your hands on me," I said honestly.

"Ick," he said.

"See, that was a sexual insinuation-type thing. Very insulting. Pull out your wand and curse me. You know you want to."

"Leave me alone, Malfoy." His voice was low, dangerous.

"No."

With a heavy sigh, Harry sat down. "What the hell," he muttered.

I cupped my ear. "What's that?"

"I should just let you hang about. You've got some silly suicide notion, fine. If that's the way you want to die, who am I to stop you?"

"Um...I'm not really following you."

He poked the ground. "Doesn't matter."

I could see him starting to close up, doing his famous Depressed Potter look thing. Uh-uh. I did not go through all that trouble for him to shut me out. I sat on the ground next to him. "Sure it does. Explain it to me."

"Fuck you, Malfoy," he muttered, looking away from me. "I don't owe you an explanation."

I smiled. "Very good. You don't owe me anything. *However* it'd be awful nice, now wouldn't it, considering we were on our way to a nice snog a minute ago. Before your little hissy fit."

"Hissy fit." His voice was low, controlled.

"Hissy fit," I confirmed. "Don't get your knickers in a wad, I realize that having a boy kiss you can be disconcerting..."

"I had a crush on Cedric. I don't think I knew it until he died. Until he was all I could think about. Ron and I have been deliberately not talking about the fact that we could like each other *that* way since our second year. So no, Draco, kissing a boy really isn't much of a problem for me. I've made peace with bisexuality. Yet another strange feature I get to put up with."

I digested this bit of news. It was enough to make a person giddy...Harry Potter went both ways..."So what's the problem?"

His reply was mumbled. He was poking at the ground again. "Hmmm? Didn't quite catch that."

He was blushing, and so obviously *not* looking at me. "I didn't realize you liked me."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh is that all? Well guess what? I do! You wanna shag?"

Harry sighed disgustedly and pushed up from the ground. "You don't understand. Go away." He began to walk off.

Now see, normally this would have been the time that I would have left. Actually, I'd have left ages ago. I am not one to force myself onto anyone. I've never had to work for a relationship. People either are attracted to me or they're not, I accept that, and I have enough people to choose from that I don't worry about the people that aren't. But I've already behaved extremely out of character today. But I didn't want to let Harry go. He was different. So grumbling I stood and ran after him.

I grabbed him and pushed him around. Before I was fully conscious of what I was doing, I was kissing him on the lips, full on. Harry resisted for a couple of moments, but then threw himself at me. I had to admit I was a bit surprised. The kiss was very different from the first, full of passion and tongue grouping hands. It wasn't very graceful, or skilled, it was just us releasing the pent up emotion and restrained tension into an embrace.

After quite a while, Harry pulled back. He looked at me. "No," he whispered. "No. I can't do this."

"Why?" I croaked. I coughed. Stupid of me to sound so emotional. So what if I got the fulfillment of seven years worth of fantasies just to have it ripped away. Doesn't mean I have to get upset about it. Malfoy stoicism. Yeah. Right. Like anyone will ever believe that after today. "Why?" I asked again, this time my voice was normal. "I know you think I'm...well...evil I suppose...

"It's not that," he interrupted. "I mean, you're not very nice, but everyone knows you're basically harmless. You've had ample opportunity to join Voldemort and you decided not to. That says a lot. You talk big, but everyone knows you really are on the good side, or at least neutral."

I was shocked. And angry as hell. "Good? Harmless? Excuse me? I'll have you know that I am a very evil boy, thank you very much. I'll not have you turning me into one of your little Harry Potter goody-goodies...wait a minute, if *that's* not the problem..." My hands on my hips, I glared at him accusingly. He almost distracted me there.

"Malfoy, why can't you leave me alone?" he asked forlornly.

"It's in the Evil Boy handbook. The chapter on homosexual teens who are trying to communicate with their mentally disturbed crushes."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not mentally disturbed. That title belongs to you."

"Har-ry...why does it matter that I like you?"

Harry blushed. He was silent, looked away. I began to ever despair of sorting this out. He sighed finally, and said without looking at me, "Everyone who gets close to me gets hurt."

"That's bloody redicul--" I began, but he cut me off.

He looked at me, finally. "No, I'm serious. Ron and Hermione have suffered because they're my friends. They're put in danger all the time. Cedric...Cedric died because of me. He *died*." Tears came to Harry's eyes. "I really liked him, Draco."

I reached out to pull him into a hug. "I know."

He fell into the embrace. His whole body shook with the sobs. Holy fuck, what was I doing? Comforting him? I really just wanted to have a good row before we left. This just spoiled the entire image, really. What was I saying about being evil? "Ron and Hermione...I...it's hard for them ... dating now ... they're ... we're not as close ... it's for the best ... not in so much danger..."

The Trio was no longer as tight as they had been? Where was I to have missed that? I suppose it would be hard for anyone outside Gryffindor to notice, seeing as how all those little prats do everything together anyway. I'd known the two had started dating a few months ago, but that affected they're dynamic hadn't occurred to me. Well obviously. Of course it would have. That must have just have killed Harry, loosing his only support system. I smoothed his hair and whispered comforting nonsense words.

"And...people...if they...they could get hurt...you know?" He pulled back and looked into my eyes. He looked horrid, his green eyes red and blotchy under the glasses that were askew. I still wanted to kiss him unconscious. I mumbled something non-committal.

"I thought you didn't like me. But you do. So now you'll get hurt. Like everybody else. I don't want you to get hurt." And I saw the flipside of his statement, the unspoken 'I don't want to get hurt. I don't want you to leave me like Ron and Hermione and Cedric. I don't want to have to deal with more pain.'

I kissed him. Hard. I pulled back after only a few seconds. "People get hurt all the time, Harry. And I can take care of myself. You don't cut yourself off from people because you're afraid of pain."

I let my last statement penetrate. Slowly his eyes came to reach mine. The look in his eyes nearly broke my heart. "But..."

"No buts. It's my skin to risk, eh? And that's only if you're right about this theory, which I'm not sure you're are. I think it's just another one of you're 'I'm the center of the universe' delusions. But either way, there's really only one issue at hand. Do you like me?"

Harry bit his lip. "Y-yes."

I smiled. "Good. Obviously, I like you too. Problem solved. Can I kiss you again?" Harry's mouth curved the tinniest bit upwards and I took that as a yes. He didn't pull away and we kissed pleasantly for a few moments. Our mouths began to learn what the other's was like, how the other kissed, to get used to the shape and style so it was no longer awkward but comfortable and easy.

Once again it was Harry who pulled back first. He stepped back a little, and we stood in silence for a moment. "Draco..." he began helplessly. Then, "Thanks," he said simply.

I smirked. "Your welcome. But as you said, it was for purely selfish reasons."

"I don't know...why, though? I'm not...you still...I'm not easy, you know. To be with...I'm...and this..."

"This didn't make you all better, you're still all broken, I bloody well understand that," I said harshly. "I don't care about that. I..." couldn't finish the statement. I what? I love him? Maybe. Not in the mushy story book way, but maybe. I certainly couldn't tell him that, though. I want to be with him? I want to shag him? What? What did I feel?

"Me too," Harry said softly.

I looked up to tell him that he could go to hell, if he had any romantic "I lurve you" notions in his head, but I saw his eyes were just as conflicted as mine. "Maybe you do," I said instead.

Maybe summer isn't so bad after all. Maybe I was wrong to think the air turns us into fools. I'm with the boy I've been dreaming of for seven years, and I'm doing okay. I may even be, so help me God, happy. And we couldn't be rolling about on the grass if it was raining or snowing, could we?

Suddenly Harry burst out laughing. I looked at him, startled. I still wasn't used to hearing him laugh, certainly not without reason. "I was just thinking of how you got my attention today..." his voice trailed off. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You're so cute."

I hate summer.

*~*~*

END


A/N: Okay, yes, Draco and Harry were both out of character. However it was three years in the future. People change in three years. It worked for the story. Oh, and I'm sure my English slang is way stupid. I think it's funny when southern Californian girls try to write in Brit-Speak. (It was easier when it was Buffy and Spike was allowed to sound a bit off) But hey, I try!