Title: Is This Real?
Author: Megan (megan2177@netscape.net)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: This story takes place during Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts. There are OoTP spoilers.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.K. Rowling. Not me.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to the gin and tonic drink that I was drinking while I wrote this. It tasted like shit.
Author's note: Please, please, please review and I will love you always. I fixed it up a little and added a sequel. Enjoy!
Is This Real?
Twisted this feeling walked out of shape
So tired of revealing the moves that I make
And I know, yes I know, but is this real?
And I know, yes I know, but is this real?
--Lisa Hall, Is This Real?
"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled, "SIRIUS!"
He had reached the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Sirius must be just behind the curtain, he, Harry, would pull him back out again….
But as he reached the ground and sprinted toward the dais, Lupin grabbed Harry around the chest, holding him back.
"There's nothing you can do, Harry…"
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
"It's too late, Harry…"
"We can still reach him…"
Harry struggled hard and viciously, but Lupin would not let go….
"There's nothing you can do, Harry…nothing…He's gone."
*************************************************
Harry jolted upright in his bed. Sweat tricking down the nape of his neck, blankets in a tangle around his feet. He took a few moments to catch his breath, the humid air of the 6th year Gryffindor bedrooms not seeming to fill his lungs all the way.
"Bloody heat." He muttered, trying not to wake Ron and Seamus in the beds surrounding him.
The term had just started a few days ago, but the last moments of summer refused to go away just yet; filling the Gryffindor tower with hot, humid air at night, which barely allowed any of them to sleep.
And Harry was still having the damn nightmares. All summer he would have dreams, replaying Sirius's death over and over again, and apparently, they weren't going away just yet.
Water. And fresh air. That was what he needed. Harry swung his legs over the side of his bed, and quietly retrieved his invisibility cloak; before slipping out of the shared bedroom, down the stairs to the common room, and out the portrait of the fat lady.
Harry stopped for a moment to suck in a few breaths of the cool air in the hallway. His feet took him in the directions of the kitchens. Maybe a few house elves would be awake to give him something to eat as well. He had barely been able to eat anything for dinner that evening. In fact, he had trouble eating at all these days.
When he entered the kitchens, they were completely quiet. It was strange not to be immediately greeted by Dobby's excited voice that Harry Potter had come to visit him. Harry looked around the dark kitchens for any sign of a house elf to get him some food. He was interrupted by the sound of a voice behind him.
"I sent the house elves away, Potter, if that's what you're looking for. They'll be back in a few hours."
Harry spun around to look at the figure seated at a small table. A glint of blonde hair in the dimly lit room confirmed his suspicions.
"Malfoy." Harry's lip curled up in disgust. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be wandering around at this time of night."
"I could say the same thing for you, Potter. Keep in mind that I am a prefect, and as such, have many more privileges than you. Not that you've ever been much for obeying the rules." He finished, eyeing the invisibility cloak neatly tucked under Harry's arm.
"Why did you send the house elves away?"
"Because, I really don't feel like having company right now. It's also nice to have free reign of the kitchen. However, Potter, you are more than welcome to sit with me until they come back. I won't mind, and I promise not to hex you."
"Why would you offer to let me stay here, Malfoy?"
"You have just as much right to be here as me. And I'm not in the mood for arguing. Sit, Potter." Malfoy pushed out the chair across the table from him with his foot, and gave Harry a little smirk. Harry begrudgingly took it; he wasn't completely sure what Malfoy was up to.
Draco picked up a glass filled with what looked to be ice water, and swirled the contents in the glass around. He tilted back his head and took a large gulp. He seemed slightly repulsed by whatever he drank.
"Do you want something to drink, Potter?" He asked, after staring at his own glass for a few moments.
"Umm, sure." Harry eyed Malfoy's drink suspiciously. "I guess I'll have whatever you're having."
Draco gave a little chuckle, before getting up and retrieving two bottles and a glass with ice. He set them all back down at the table as he took his seat again. He poured a clear liquid into the glass, before adding a small amount of what appeared to be tonic water. He picked up the glass and swirled it, before setting it down in front of Harry.
"Bottoms up." Draco took another drink from his own glass.
Harry eyed the two glasses. They appeared to be drinking the same thing. He picked up his glass and smelled it, keeping his eyes on Malfoy the whole time, who stared right back at him. It smelled kind of minty, but had a strong odor to it that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.
He picked up his glass and poured a large amount of it down his throat, just as he had seen Malfoy do. It burned all the way down, and he could feel tears forming at the back of his eyes.
"Oh God, Malfoy. It's like swallowing Scope."
Malfoy smiled at the horrible face that Harry was making. "It's gin and tonic, Potter. And it doesn't taste like Scope." Malfoy filled up his own glass, but with his, he added a bit more of the tonic water than the clear liquor.
There was no way that Harry would let Malfoy out-drink him. He quickly downed the rest of his first glass, and allowed Malfoy to fill up his glass again.
They didn't say anything to each other as they drank, but Harry made sure to drink at the same pace as Malfoy. They finished their second glasses at the same time, and Malfoy eyed Harry from across the small table in amusement.
Harry was beginning to feel a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body; his head felt utterly carefree and light. He had completely forgotten about the dream he had had just a half of an hour before.
"All right." Malfoy said, standing up from the table and returning a few moments later holding two shot glasses. He took his seat, putting a small glass in front of each of them. He filled them both to the top from the gin bottle and picked his own up, placing it in front of his lips.
"What's wrong, Potter." He drawled, seeing Harry make no move to follow his actions. "Have you had enough already?"
Harry growled in the back of his throat, before picking up the shot and pouring it all down his throat at once. Malfoy quickly followed. He grinned at Harry as he filled both of their glasses again, his lips glistening in the darkness with spit and liquor.
They downed three more shots in complete silence; with Harry glaring at Malfoy, while Malfoy simply smiled back at him.
After their fourth shot, Harry was feeling quite dizzy, and the lettering on the bottles was becoming out of focus. Malfoy was making no move to fill up their glasses again, and he appeared to be resting, his elbow on the table, cheek pressed against his fist, causing his lips to part slightly, staring across the table at Harry with steel gray eyes. This was fine with Harry. He wasn't sure if he could take any more; and he sincerely hoped that he wouldn't just fall asleep right here on the table.
"So, why did you come here, Potter?"
The image of his godfather falling through a veil flashed through Harry's mind.
"Couldn't sleep. Nightmares. You?"
"What did you have a nightmare about?" Malfoy completely ignored Harry's question.
"It's none of your business." He replied gruffly, but he suddenly no longer felt defensive against the blonde boy sitting across from him, so, after a pause he added, "Sirius."
"Did you see him die?" Malfoy asked. Obviously, he had heard from somewhere that Sirius was dead.
It felt like something inside of Harry popped, and a pang of hurt shot through him. "Oh God, I miss him so much." He wasn't unable to suppress his emotions as he buried his face in his hands.
"Stop feeling so sorry for yourself." Malfoy stared off into space, slight irritation crossing his pale, pointed features.
"What do you know about it, huh!?!" Harry stood up from the table and yelled and the other boy, not realizing how angry he sounded until the words actually came out from his mouth.
"Keep in mind, Potter," Malfoy said coldly, "That because of you, I don't have a father this year. We Malfoys may not show our emotions as boldly as you bloody Gryffindors. But, I do love my father, and I may just have some idea of what you are going through." He glared at Harry who was still standing over him. They were both swaying a bit, obviously quite unstable from the gin.
Harry could feel himself losing his balance. Malfoy was quick to his feet, and caught the brunette boy as he fell forward. However, Harry's weight was too much for him, and they both fell, toppling to the kitchen floor in a mass of limbs.
"Oof!" The wind was temporarily knocked out of Malfoy as Harry landed on top of him. "Get off." He said roughly. Harry pushed against the ground on either side of Malfoy's shoulders, but he just couldn't find the strength to stand up.
He looked down at the struggling blonde beneath him. Malfoy had wisps of silvery-white hair hanging down over his eyes, and his cheeks were quite flushed. He felt solid and whole underneath Harry, so few things in his life felt like this anymore.
Suddenly, Harry realized, this isn't just a Malfoy. This is Draco. Draco, who has feelings just like anyone else. Draco, who cries at night because he misses his father; who gets drunk at night, just so he can fall asleep. And, Draco looked absolutely beautiful to Harry.
He stopped struggling and looked questioningly up into Harry's bright green eyes.
Harry took Draco's wrist in his hands. He gingerly traced the light blue veins showing beneath ivory skin, before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on that vein. Draco gasped, but didn't move.
Everything felt so good, and Harry's head was spinning. He wanted to see more of Draco's skin, press his lips along every inch of the other boy's body.
He managed to sit back, so that he was now straddling Draco's hips. His fingers felt heavy and clumsy as he pulled open Draco's robes. There was no way he was going to be able to unbutton the white shirt underneath, so he simply ripped it open, sending small white buttons all over the kitchen floor.
Draco's chest was smooth and flawless. He ran his fingertips down from Draco's collarbone to the top of his pants. The other boy shivered at the light touch, looking up at Harry with both fear and want in his eyes. He sat up and shrugged his arms the rest of the way out of his robes and shirt.
They looked at each other, unsure of what to do, until Harry finally leaned forward, and pressed his lips against Draco's. Their mouths were a little off center at first, but that was quickly corrected after a slight adjustment on Draco's part. They both parted their mouths at the same time. All that Harry could think about were tongues, and spit, and lips, and the occasional scrape of their teeth. He knew that neither one of them was doing this very well, but he didn't care that it was a bad kiss. It made his head spin even more, and he wasn't sure if he could ever get enough.
Draco didn't break contact with Harry's mouth as he squirmed out from beneath him and helped them both to their feet. Harry's arms were draped lazily around Draco's shoulders for support.
Harry moved away from Draco's lips to kiss along his jaw, licking and nipping his way down his neck, leaving small red marks along the blonde boy's throat.
Draco fumbled with Harry's belt, finally getting it open and pushing his trousers to the floor. Harry stopped kissing Draco's neck, and leaned his head against the other boy's shoulder, breathing softly against his skin.
"Harry?" Draco pulled him away to see that Harry had fallen asleep. "Stupid git." Draco shook his head at the sleeping boy, noticing how peaceful and young he looks while asleep; instead of the usual worried, anxious expression he wears during the day.
After pulling Harry's trousers back on, he set him down softly on the kitchen floor. He put his robes back on and threw his shirt in the garbage, considering it a lost cause. He quietly slipped out of the kitchens, but not before putting a note in Harry's pocket, inviting Harry to meet him again for drinks the next evening. Maybe they could try tequila.
