Harry rubbed his hands together. Even through his gloves, he could feel the bone-cold, and the thought of diving into that freezing water made his skin crawl. He sighed into his hands, cherishing what small warmth he could derive from that.
He watched dozens of people making their way to the docks for the second task, strangers, acquaintances, and friends wishing him luck. But he was looking for one specific person.
Harry heard Fred and George before he saw them, calling out wagers and betting advertisements. Then came Ron and Ginny. Harry's brow crinkled in confusion.
"Harry!" Ron waved.
"Ron, where's Hermione? What did McGonagall need last night?"
Ron and Ginny shared a glance, and for the first time, Harry realized just how pissy Ginny looked.
"You alright, Gin?" He asked before he got an answer.
She looked at him angrily, and stormed off toward the dock, alone. Harry watched her go, then turned his baffled expression on Ron.
"What've I done this time?"
Ron looked supremely uncomfortable.
"Ah... It's a long story, mate. I'll tell you after the task, yeah?"
Ron clapped him on the shoulder and ran to catch up with Ginny.
"Wait, RON!" He called in exasperation.
He was just about to pursue the pair of gingers before he heard his name.
"Harry!"
Harry whipped back around in relief.
"Oh, finally, Neville! What took you so bloody long?"
"Sorry, mate. This stuff isn't easy to come by."
Neville handed Harry a handful of what looked like grey-green seaweed. Harry looked at it uneasily.
"And you're sure this will work?"
They started walking with the crowd together hastily.
"Pretty sure."
Harry looked up at Neville, the stirrings of dread in the pit of his stomach.
"You're not 100% positive?"
Neville gave him an apologetic glance.
"Well... There's still some debate amongst Herboligists about the effectiveness of gillyweed in fresh water as apposed to salt water-"
"You're telling me this NOW?"
"I'm sorry! I just... Wanted... To help..."
Harry grimaced down at his handful of gillyweed dubiously.
"Thanks, Neville..." He muttered.
They made their way to Harry's station, where Moody was already pacing.
"Bout bloody time, boy! Where 'ave you been?"
"Moody, what do you know about gillyweed?"
"What do I look like to you, a potions teacher? Let's get you dressed."
Harry groaned and reluctantly shed his gloves, scarf, and the rest of his clothes until he was in his swimming shorts and jersey. He struggled to pull his wand holster onto his thigh while shivering furiously.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Dumbledore's voice boomed out over the lake, and all fell still. "Welcome to the second task of this year's Triwizard Tournament!" Harry ran the egg's riddle over and over in his head as Dumbledore went on about the privileges of having Hogwarts chosen to host it and some water-dwelling plant that was a particular favorite of his...
'Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And to recover what we took,
But past an hour – the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.'
Something he would sorely miss, he would have an hour to look, and an hour only... Harry shoved the gillyweed in his mouth, and nearly immediately gagged.
"...the task will begin at the sound of the canon-"
BANG!
The canon sounded and the other three contestants dove into the water. Harry was too busy choking, but he felt a rough hand on his back and then he was falling, falling...
SPLASH!
The water engulfed him, and he writhed as he sank, water filling his lungs, cold chilling to his bone, water burning his eyes...
Suddenly, he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. It suddenly was not cold at all. It was body temperature, and he could breathe and see... What is going on?
He lifted a hand to feel his neck, and there he found something like gills. He looked down at his feet, and found they now resembled fins more than feet, and his fingers were webbed as well. He grinned.
"Brilliant!" His voice sounded oddly underwater. He was so relieved that he swam faster than he had ever swum, to the surface and into the open air. His momentum was such that he had enough to do a flip in the air, and he called out, "Yeaaaah!" with euphoria. The crowd returned the shout just before he breached the water again.
He was buzzing with adrenaline, but he had to concentrate. Where was everyone? The lake seemed dark from the surface, but now, inside it, the sunlight shone through in rays and he could see perfectly well. He thought he saw something towards the floor of the lake, and immediately made his way toward it.
There was so much life, he was fascinated. He got a glimpse into why Neville was so interested in Herbology. The lakeweed swayed in the current, all varying colours. Small critters dodged in and out of the forest as he swam over it toward what looked increasingly like a small kingdom.
He realized there were four students tied to the floor of the lake by strands of lakeweed around their ankles. They were either unconscious or bewitched.
'Something you'll sorely miss...'
Upon further investigation, he recognized the students. It was Cho, Hermione, Fleur's younger sister, and... Malfoy?
Harry's brow crumpled. Whose is he? He couldn't be Fleur's, she was constantly attached to her sister at the hip. It wouldn't be Cedric or Krum, and certainly not Harry! So who...?
Just then, Cedric Diggory emerged from the forest to Harry's right, endowed with the bubblehead charm. Harry had been trying to figure out if he was supposed to take Cho or Hermione, since they were both important to him, but he realized it would be Cedric, since he was her boyfriend... Harry fumed silently as he watched the Hufflepuff loosen Cho and then take her arm.
Cedric made eye contact with Harry and tapped his watch with his wand. Harry nodded, and then Cedric swam directly upwards with Cho. He must have spent more time appreciating the lake life than he intended.
Harry swam toward Hermione, his choice obvious now, but suddenly there was a swarm of merfolk surrounding him. One put herself between him and Hermione with a trident pointed directly at Harry's throat. He stopped short and raised his hands.
"She's my friend!" He cried in confusion.
The merwoman hissed.
"She is not yours to save."
Harry's brow knitted together in confusion.
"Then who...?"
Just then, a chorus of shrieks sounded from the merfolk, and he was surprised to find them swimming away as fast as they could. Harry realized that the danger must have been behind him, and he whipped around to find a shark swimming straight for his face.
Harry dodged just in time to realize it was Krum with the head of a shark. Creative. Krum bit through the lakeweed tying Hermione down, and began dragging her back to the surface, so Harry was left with just Fleur's little sister and Malfoy, looking surprisingly unmenacing as he floated sedately in whatever spell it was keeping him unconscious.
Harry raised his hands in exasperation. He was running out of time, and Fleur had not shown. Something must have happened to her. She had not proven the most promising in this tournament...
Harry resolutely brandished his wand and cast a spell through the water to release both of them. No merfolk were around to hassle him, so he quickly swam between the two blonds, looped arms with both, and swam for the surface.
The effects of the gillyweed were quickly fading. He was already struggling to breathe, and the webbing between his fingers was receding. He strained his eyes toward the sunlight of the surface, when his gills closed off altogether and he could no longer breathe. He was almost there... When suddenly something grabbed his ankle.
He looked down to see swarms of small, octopus-like things with torsos and arms snarling and fast approaching. Harry pushed Malfoy and the Delacour girl upward as hard as he could, and desperately struggled for his wand. One of the creatures suctioned onto his thigh, and another on his neck, and he felt little teeth dig into his muscle, but he was oxygen deprived and quickly losing consciousness. He cast a stunning spell with the last of his energy before he could no longer move.
So this is how he was to die. In a stupid school tournament, not even something spectacular like defeating Voldemort. How he would have loved to see the day, even be the one to do it! But he was sure the world would manage without him... His eyes closed slowly...
The next thing he was aware of was coughing up water, and cold, and pain, and he was lying on wood. The dock? He must have been pulled up. He rolled over to vomit the rest of the water up over the side. He coughed hoarsely, and a towel was thrown around his shivering shoulders.
"Harry! Harry, are you alright?" That was Hermione's voice. Harry nodded, but continued coughing up his lungs. A hand rubbing his back.
His vision was slowly swimming back as he sat there shivering.
"Malfoy and-" he coughed, interrupting his sad excuse for a voice.
"They're just fine. We're all fine. Harry, you saved Gabrielle!" That must have been Fleur's younger sister. "She wasn't yours to save, but you did it anyway!"
Harry spat, his lungs now free of water, but his throat still hoarse.
"I know, Hermione, I was there." He whispered over the general hubbub.
Suddenly, Dumbledore was there. He seized Harry by the shoulders and looked him full in the face.
"You're alright, Potter?" Harry nodded, and Dumbledore made an assenting noise, and then left. Hermione was quickly kneeling before him again, tending the wounds on his neck and thigh. He felt a clap on his back. That was Ron.
"Well done, mate."
"What happened to Fleur?" Harry said softly, wary of hurting his voice.
"She never made it past the grindylowes." Hermione beamed up at him, pride spilling out of her pores. She suddenly seized his head and kissed the top of his. He winced as it pulled at the place where the wound on his throat was.
"Hermione-"
"Harry!" A feminine voice with a distinct French accent sounded, and then Fleur was kneeling beside him. "You saved my little sister! Merci!" She kissed each of his cheeks, and then said something in rapid French to Gabrielle next to her.
"Merci beaucoup, monsieur." She said timidly. They then walked away, and Harry was brought a robe like Hermione's and Fleur's and Gabrielle's. Harry was very grateful. It had been treated with a heating spell.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our results are in." The dock suddenly fell silent as Dumbledore's voice echoed across the hills. "In first place, mister Diggory!" Cheers erupted, and then slowly formed into a chant of his name. "In second place, mister Krum!" Deeper, throatier cheers erupted from the Durmstrang boys. They were in unison, but they must have been in Russian, because Harry couldn't understand them.
"As for mister Potter, he would have come in third place, but after much consideration, we have decided to award him second place-" A chorus of voices called out in Harry's honor, and Hermione said 'Second place!' "-for his courage and bravery for saving Fleur's counterpart, since miss Delacour could not complete this task."
Harry grinned from ear to ear. He was helped to his feet suddenly by several arms and then there were fellow Gryffindors surrounding him, cheering his name. But there was still a question nagging at the back of Harry's mind...
Eh, he would think about it later. Right now, he was on top of the world.
Later, in the commonroom, after the festivities and congratulations had died down, Harry sat with Hermione and Ron at the fireplace, when the question made itself known to him again.
"Oh yeah! Whose 'counterpart' was Malfoy? I never did find out, and I'm pretty sure Cedric or Viktor took mine... And why was Ginny so mad at me?"
Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. They both looked at their laps, and Ron blushed furiously.
"Harry..." said Hermione. "Malfoy was your counterpart."
"What? Rubbish!" Ron looked up bashfully.
"It's true, mate. McGonagall called us into her office and... Well... Hermione?" Ron took refuge in his mug of butterbeer. Hermione cleared her throat.
"In the room was Ginny and Seamus and Ron and I... and Malfoy." Hermione glanced at Ron, who was staring intently into his mug. Harry was becoming increasingly confused. "McGonagall administered this... Test... To all of us, to find out who your counterpart was."
"And they just decided to bring Malfoy along? How'd they figure that?"
Ron shrugged.
"Haven't the foggiest." He interjected earnestly.
"And the... The test chose Malfoy?" Hermione nodded and pursed her lips.
"He was just as baffled as you, if not more. But the Goblet of Fire doesn't lie..."
"Blimey, Hermione, you sound like McGonagall."
Hermione frowned.
"And that's a bad thing?" Ron rolled his eyes, a habit he had picked up from her. Harry scoffed.
"So that's why Ginny is upset with me? Because it chose Malfoy over her?"
"Well, it chose him over us, too, mate..."
Harry swallowed. He knew exactly how this looked. He now understood the blush on Ron's face and Hermione's avoidance of eye contact, her constant throat-clearing.
"Oooh no no no no no, NO, I do NOT fancy Malfoy!"
"We know, Harry, it's just..." Hermione said placatingly.
"The Goblet doesn't lie, right?" Said Ron.
Hermione gave Ron a stern look.
"I sound like McGonagall?"
Ron glanced at her sheepishly. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Well, the Goblet must think it's right, because it obviously tells what it thinks is the truth, but it is mistaken, I am telling you!" Neither of his friends looked convinced, though. "Ron!" The Weasley glanced up at Harry. "Hermione, please..." She looked a little more steadily at him.
"I know you don't... Fancy Malfoy... But... But maybe... Something in you would... Sorely miss him if he died?" She offered.
Harry honestly hadn't given too much thought to the blond in quite a while. He was too frustrated to think about him now. He stood.
"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Think what you want." He stormed up into the boy's dormitories and flopped down on his bed.
The next day, the whispers had already started. Or he was finally down off his high and he was just aware of it now. Of course there would be whispers. At least the dam hadn't broken down yet and the shouts hadn't started, the accusations, the pushing, the name-calling...
It would come, as it always did, and Harry was not in the mood for it. When was he ever? But for now, they still had shame. They still had dignity. He was somewhat of a hero, after all.
The first time he saw Malfoy that day was Potions. He was very wary of the blond, expecting there to be no dam to break with him since it was Malfoy. But he was very quiet, wouldn't look at Harry.
He seemed oddly stressed, though. His usually slicked-back hair was falling in his face and Harry actually caught him running his fingers through his hair. As soon as he noticed this, he noticed how his tie was askew and how his shirt was only half tucked-in. Very uncharacteristic of a Malfoy. Maybe something was going on at home...?
Malfoy scratched behind his ear and glanced at Harry, making him realize he was staring. He quickly tore his eyes away, back to his nonexistent notes.
He knew it was odd, but Malfoy being so rumpled was... Unsettling. Maybe it was something to do with Voldemort? Harry risked another glance up at the blond, who was now talking to Goyle on his right. Harry could only see the back of his stupid blond head.
Goyle gestured toward Harry with his head, a disgusting grin splitting his face. Malfoy forced a laugh and followed Goyle's eyes to Harry, whose brow knitted together in confusion and a bit of resentment.
However, when Goyle lost interest and returned his attention to the book before him, Draco kept eye contact, and his expression took on a more troubled tone. Harry ducked his head, a flush colouring his cheeks. But he couldn't help wondering with a burning curiosity what was bothering Draco.
Hermione and Ron still hadn't gotten rid of their conviction by the time lunchtime rolled around. Harry could tell by their obvious silence and the awkward atmosphere. Harry was past arguing, though. He would let them think whatever they wanted.
He stared morbidly into his meal as he picked it apart with his fork.
"Harry!"
Harry looked up at his friends, who were staring over his head with wide eyes. He turned in time to see a small crumpled-up piece of paper fly past his face and land before him. He looked down at it, confusion crumpling his brow. He turned back around, in search of who had sent it. His eyes almost immediately lighted on Malfoy, who was facing him, staring at him blatantly. Harry cautiously turned back to the crumpled paper.
"Well, go on! Open it!"
Harry glanced up at Ron, then slowly picked it up and began uncrumpling it. Ron and Hermione both leaned forward to see what it said, and a few other Gryffindors also crowded around. Harry pushed his plate forward and pressed the parchment flat onto the table.
"It's blank." Ron said with disappointment. The crowd dispersed with equal disappointment.
Harry looked up at Ron with confusion. There was a note scrawled on the parchement, clear as day. He looked back down and read it.
Meet me in the Room of Requirement, midnight. We need to talk. -DM
"I don't think it is. Harry, can you see anything on it? It might be enchanted."
Harry looked at Malfoy's elegant scrawl, and without looking up, replied.
"No. It's just blank. Suppose he was aiming for my head or something." He crumpled it back up and shoved it into his robes pocket. He turned back around, made eye contact with Malfoy for a long moment, and then got up to leave. "I left my Defense book in my room, I'll catch up with you later."
"Later, mate." Ron dismissed him easily, but Hermione followed Harry suspiciously with her eyes. He left.
The rest of the day passed by in a blur. Harry often found himself staring into space, worrying and thinking about what Malfoy might have to say. Well, he knew the general direction the conversation would take, but why would Malfoy organize a special meeting for it? He could just wait until Harry was alone.
Before he knew it, he was sitting in bed, listening to the reassuring sound of Ron's snore. He had his wand, trainers, and all his clothes on. He checked his watch. It was 11:50. He stood and silently padded to the door, his invisibility cloak in hand. He donned it as soon as he closed the door behind him.
When he reached the wall, he paced three times, thinking to himself, 'I need to find Malfoy.' A very ornate door carved itself into the wall, and Harry steeled himself and opened it. Inside, he found an enormous room, with a silver and emerald theme. Harry assumed it was the Slytherin commonroom. Typical.
"Potter? Is that you?"
Malfoy was leaning over the fireplace, one hand on the hearth and one holding a glass of what looked like whiskey. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled off the invisibility cloak. Malfoy faced Harry and put his hand in his pocket.
"Could you close the door?"
Harry looked behind him at the door in question, and then hesitantly closed it. The door clicked shut, and Harry was suddenly very nervous. He had no idea why.
When he turned back to look at Malfoy, he was taking a swig from his short, fat glass.
"You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, I did. Please, sit." He gestured toward the two plush chairs before the fire. Harry approached them cautiously, draping the cloak over the back of his before sitting. "I assume you know why I wanted to speak with you."
Harry winced and looked into the fire.
"The second task?"
"Indeed." Harry sat in silence, waiting for the actual question. However, when it came, it was alarmingly quiet and vulnerable. "Why did the Goblet choose me?" Harry looked at Malfoy, whose face matched the vulnerability in his voice. He held eye contact for a while before answering.
"I don't know."
The blond looked at his face searchingly.
"Are you sure?"
"Were you looking for a specific answer?"
Harry was even more surprised to see a faint flush color the Slytherin's cheeks.
"No, I just... Wanted any answer."
He looked back at the fire. Then suddenly, it clicked for Harry.
"You were wondering if I fancy you."
Malfoy looked down into his drink. Harry took this as confirmation. He groaned and leaned over his lap, his face in his hands.
"Not you, too. Ron and Hermione... Everybody..." Harry rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Malfoy cleared his throat.
"And you're sure you don't...?"
Harry looked up at Malfoy, exasperated.
"Alright, alright..." The blond turned back to his drink, and downed the last few drops. Harry watched him, his eye caught on the boy's adam's apple as it bobbed. Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He looked at his hands.
"Actually, I've... Never really given it a lot of thought. Bigger fish to fry, y'know?" Harry forced a chuckle, still feeling strangely awkward.
"So you're... Not sure?"
Harry's brow darkened. But he considered. He tried to answer as honestly as possible.
"I guess I'm not very sure. If I haven't thought about it." He looked up to Malfoy's grey eyes. He seemed very nervous. The situation was so uncomfortable for the both of them.
"Is there any way I could... Help?" Harry's eyes widened.
"How exactly would you help?"
Harry watched as Malfoy seemed to steel himself, then stand.
"What are you-" He approached Harry and before he knew it, he was kneeling before him. "Malfoy, the hell...?"
"Would you shut up?" Harry sat back and swallowed. His face was suddenly very hot. And his ears. And his neck. Bugger. The blond took a deep breath. "What if we were to kiss?" Harry was about to interject, but Malfoy spoke over him. "Just once, just to be sure. Nobody would have to know, I wouldn't tell anyone, I promise. I'll even make the Unbreakable Vow." He spoke very quickly.
Harry sat silently for a moment, looking into Draco's pleading eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" Draco's expression shifted slightly.
"I'll tell you afterward."
It wasn't in Harry's nature to run away from things, so he thought about this logically. He didn't feel the need to form an Unbreakable Vow, Draco would be just as fucked if word got out. He swallowed.
"I must be out of my mind." Draco took this as an agreement, and his trembling hand lifted and seized Harry's tie. He slowly pulled the brunette forward, not pausing or giving either of them any time to rethink this. Their lips met.
It was very odd. Draco's mouth was unfamiliar, it moved in alien ways and tasted like nothing Harry had ever tasted before. Nevertheless, he found himself kissing back, deepening the kiss even. It was an awkward angle, and Harry's hand lifted to hold the back of Draco's head to steady them.
Fuck, bugger, and tits. Harry was definitely feeling familiar stirrings in the pit of his stomach, and he was sure Draco could feel his heartbeat elevate because the blond responded, offering Harry his tongue. He accepted it, gasping at the feeling of first tongue contact. His other hand came up to hold either side of the Slytherin's head behind his ears.
A quiet whimper escaped Draco's mouth, and he pushed Harry back. Before he knew what was happening, the Gryffindor was being straddled. Harry could hardly get enough oxygen, he had no idea what was happening, but he had the distinct sensation of falling in his stomach.
He felt the mouth on his move to his jaw, his throat, his tie being loosened. He couldn't move if he wanted to. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, uncomprehending. His shirt was being unbuttoned. Cold hands pressed against his front. He gasped and gave a shuddering sigh. His eyes shut languidly as warm, open-mouthed kisses were pressed to his collarbone.
Suddenly, teeth closed around his collarbone. He gasped, and just like that, he was back in his body, bare-torsoed beneath none other than Draco Malfoy. His eyes flew open.
He shoved Malfoy off of him, and desperately scooted backwards. Malfoy landed on his ass and hands. They both breathed heavily, looking at each other in confusion.
"Shit." Malfoy gave a mirthless laugh. Harry looked down at his heaving, bare chest, at the welt forming around his collarbone. "Shit!" That would be there for weeks! He pulled his shirt together, intending to button it back up, but his fingers were uncooperative, and he eventually gave up, instead covering his face with his hands and leaning back again. "Shiiiiit." He groaned and gave a sort of sob.
"I think that answers your question." Malfoy stood and meandered back to his seat. Harry leaned his elbows on his knees again, digging his palms into his eyes.
"Why am I always the last to know everything?" He lifted his head. "Is there anything else I should know about myself that everyone else knows but me!?"
"You're bloody fit."
Harry glanced at Malfoy, not quite sure if he was kidding. He appeared to be serious. Harry swallowed and tried to laugh it off.
"Anything else?"
"You're a sensational kisser."
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Hypothetical questions, Malfoy."
"Draco." The blond corrected.
"Harry, nice to meet you, I am apparently bent." He said grimly.
"Me too."
Harry stood.
"Alright, I can't take any more of this tonight. I've got... I've got to go." He snatched his invisibility cloak and headed towards the door.
Just before he left, he chanced one last glance back at Draco. He had his hands steepled under his chin, a victorious kind of grin on his face. Harry cursed under his breath and left.
The next few days were torture for Harry, though he was never approached by the smug Slytherin. It was just the quiet grins across classrooms and in passing down corridors. Once, Draco had the gall to actually intentionally brush hands with Harry as they passed each other. Harry's face had immediately filled with blood and he had to fist his hands to resist hexing the self-satisfied git.
The week passed in this way until one day, Harry nearly ran headlong into the tall blond as he raced around a corner to his next class – which he was late for.
"Malfoy!"
"Mind yourself, Potter. Who knows what would have happened had our skin come into contact!" He chided sarcastically. Harry rolled his eyes and tried to step around him. Draco, however, followed his movements and kept him there.
"Would you let me get to class, Malfoy?"
"You know, if I didn't know you better, I'd say you were avoiding me." Harry didn't deign to answer this. Instead, he tried to get around Malfoy again – only to be prevented once more. "Uncharacteristic of a Gryffindor."
"What do you want?" Harry looked up into Draco's eyes angrily. The Slytherin, however, remained unfazed by Harry's frustration. He wrapped his fingers around Harry's wrist by his side, and didn't let him go when he tried to jerk his hand away.
"I just want to talk."
Harry stepped back and dropped his bookbag in an attempt to pry Draco's hand off of his wrist with the other.
"Honestly, you're like a child." Draco seized Harry's other wrist and held them between the their chests.
"Let me go." Harry glared at Draco's adam's apple.
"Just hear me out."
"I'm already late for class!"
"Your class can wait!" Draco snapped, and he suddenly whirled Harry's back towards the wall and pinned his wrists against the stone. Harry's anger was replaced by shock and he looked up into Draco's grey-blue eyes.
"Are you going to listen to me now?"
Harry could only nod.
"Good." Draco's brow would not relax and he seemed to search for the words to say in Harry's pores. "We..." His fingers flexed around Harry's wrists once. "We fancy each other... Right?"
Harry's jaw dropped unintentionally, and he failed miserably at trying to cover it up because he had no words. What came out was "I... Pfff, we- We, I-"
He was cut off with an "Mmf!" as Draco pressed his lips against his. The patterns his lips moved in were a bit more familiar this time around, but no less novel. The long fingers around his wrists slackened, and found either side of Harry's neck.
Draco's kiss seemed almost desperate, while Harry just writhed and struggled. His hands flailed awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do. He intended to push Malfoy away, but they eventually came to rest on the blond's bony hips.
Draco finally broke the kiss, and he pulled back to look in Harry's eyes.
"Right?"
Something tightened in Harry's stomach, and he pressed his lips together and nodded hesitantly. The small smile that fluttered to flame in Draco's face only made his stomach tighten more.
"So why aren't we doing this all the time?"
Draco's fingers found Harry's tie knot and idly loosened it.
"Draco, we... Can you imagine what people would think?"
"Who cares?" His fingers tugged on Harry's tie and it came free. It was this that suddenly shocked him into realizing he was slowly being disrobed. It made communication very difficult.
"Um..." He swallowed. "Everyone? I doubt anyone would under..." Draco's cool fingers found Harry's skin just below the hollow of his throat. "Understand."
"I don't care about anyone else." Harry scoffed. "I don't!" He tugged the Gryffindor's shirt out of his pants and slid his cold palms onto Harry's warm sides. Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth. "I want you."
"But-"
"And I know you want me." Draco pulled their hips together roughly, drawing a gasp from the brunette.
"Draco..."
"Say it."
"Your father-"
Draco growled and kissed Harry forcefully before he could say anymore about his father.
"Please say it."
Harry gave a shuddering sigh and did not open his eyes because he felt sure that, if he did open his eyes, he would not be able to speak.
"I want you." He whispered. Draco smiled and kissed him once more.
"You're not going to class today."
And just like that, he dragged Harry by the front of his shirt behind a tapestry into a hidden corridor. The flavor of fear was unfamiliar on the back of Harry's tongue. This wasn't like venturing into the Forbidden Forest as a second year. It was a headier tonic of adrenaline.
Neither could tell how long they spent exploring each other, hands on skin and fingers in hair, tongue on tongue.
When they finally came up for air, their shirts had been discarded and their hair disheveled – Harry's even more than usual. His glasses had also somehow found their way to the floor. Not to mention they were both very much out of breath.
"Please please please, Harry. Please be mine."
Sure, Harry's knees were knocking and he was having difficulty calming his heart, but he would not be outdone in bravery by a Slytherin. And so, he set his jaw, and nodded.
He was rewarded with a kiss so vigorous he thought his knees might buckle. He clung desperately to Draco, wrapping his arms around the taller boy's shoulders – with a bit of difficulty. Their torsos were pressed together so tightly and Harry's back was beginning to take on the indentations of the stone wall behind him, and yet it didn't seem tight enough.
The end