Disclaimer: This is fanfiction based off of the Harry Potter series, and in no way am I associated with J.K. Rowling, the books, or the movies. In no way to I recieve royalties. In no way do I own the Harry Potter series, characters, or plotlines. The plot contained below is of my creation and in no way reflects their intents or points of view. And...um...whatever else I'm supposed to say.
Breif Intro: Harry/Draco oneshot. "You know, this tower is only used for two things, and you're here by yourself." Two things, snogging and suicide.
"Potter."
"Malfoy," came the response, with the usual disdain.
"...I'd prefer this moment alone, if you don't mind."
"On the astronomy tower?" Harry didn't move an inch. "You know, this tower is only used for two things, and you're here by yourself." Two things, snogging and suicide. And Harry was right. "Whatever will they say?"
"Yes, two things," and Draco's voice sounded far off. He could see the distant trees, the moonlight glinting off the lake, the hazy horizon. And the stars. "But I'm not alone anymore," Draco continued, turning to look Harry straight in the eyes. Confidently, almost defiantly.
"I...don't understand," Harry said, his expression softening to confusion. He took a step back.
"No," Draco agreed. "I suppose you don't." And again he looked away. Draco was tired of these confrontations, and as Harry had implied, he'd been a bit preoccuppied up here in the tower.
"But...all your pranks," Harry protested. "The insults. Everything you do to make life worse for me. You hate me. And...and I hate you."
"Fuck off," Draco replied. And he turned his back fully to Harry, something he was fully aware of never having done before. But, putting up a front just seemed too much at the moment, and Potter's dueling skills had long since outgrown his. Without his cronies or some clever diversion, he had no chance against him. He only hoped Harry would do the honorable thing and leave, as he'd requested.
When a scuffle of robes sounded behind him, he choked back a sigh - half from relief and half misery. He was alone again with his thoughts... Of being alone. With no more choices. Except this tower.
"But I don't know you, do I?" came Harry's whisper a mere twelve inches away, and Draco gasped. "I only hated your pretend." And when Draco turns around there, Harry really is twelve inches away. No scowl apparent, skin aglow by moonlight, and so close that Draco imagines it impossible to edge around him without somehow touching him.
And Harry's lips, they're parted just slightly. As if in wonder, or in question.
And against all his training, Draco's lips meet his in answer - a step forward, leaning upward, eyes half-closed and for just moments their mouths mutually caress - before Draco's nerves finally give and he finishes his point. He steps back again against the railing, his mouth firmly shut but his eyes open wide, shining.
"I don't understand you, but, I'll try to if you let me." And Harry makes his move, enveloping Draco in a firm, secure embrace. Draco's nose presses against the nape of Harry's neck; Harry's head leans gently on the top of Draco's; both their hands encircle the body of the other; and they meet as a set of novelty salt-and-pepper shakers. And Harry's point continues - for hours to come, 'till dawn is well-broken, and arguably ever after.