Name: Love Bites

Genre: romance, humour, family, drama, slash

Pairing: Harry/Draco, (Sirius/Remus, but only a small role)

Summary: On the spring of Harry's 5th year, Harry and Draco kissed. During summer Harry decides to do something about it and confronts the Slytherin about it – only that he didn't expect it to lead to a relationship. A secret one at that. His parents would kill him if they found out he was seeing the Malfoy heir.

NOTE THIS: In this fic, Lily and James and other Marauders are alive. Peter didn't betray them either and is still present in their lives. Voldemort's also already dead, since Dumbledore and the rest of the Order killed him when Harry was eleven. In other words, Harry lives in a peaceful world.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter's world. It's all J.K. Rowling's.

A/N: Hello and welcome to my new HP fic. I plan Love Bites to be a short one and mostly light romance with some serious undertones and teenage troubles. Hope you enjoy this short romance story with my favourite pairing and don't forget to leave a comment – whether it's negative or positive. I'd love to have both!

Chapter 1

Harry James Potter knew he had messed up his life the moment he'd let himself get bothered. But how did one ignore something so absurd and sudden? Especially when the source of that suddenness was Draco whatever-the-hell-his-real-middle-name-was Malfoy who was Harry's enemy and nothing more. But the bloody Gryffindor inside of him told him to do something about it since leaving issues unsolved would only mean he was running away – which he wasn't.

With a distressed grunt Harry tried to push his wild hair down, tucking a tight muggle t-shirt he was wearing and hoping he'd let his Mom to straighten the wrinkles after all. Normally he didn't care what he was wearing, once he'd even went to an official party in red and yellow shorts and sandals (he didn't want to remember how his parents had reacted to him leaving his shirt home), so he could only blame that bloody pretentious fashion-obsessed Malfoy of his self-consciousness.

The said git sat right opposite of him, looking at his bowl of ice cream like it was more interesting than their conversation. Harry frowned. Was he to assume some things from that? Did it mean that Harry reaching out for Malfoy with a letter of asking to meet up was a mistake and actually didn't have any interest for Malfoy? Did it mean that what had happened between them that spring was just a sick joke?

Everything that had happened before that kiss?

Harry shook his head, quickly glancing around the busy street of Diagon Alley. Witches and Wizards passing their table in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour were dressed in light summer robes, many of them looking irritated due the beating heat that had bothered England for a month straight. It was only July and according to the Muggle news the weather would only get worse next month.

Maybe the heat was getting to him too since he was sure people were giving glances at Harry and Malfoy's table with horrified faces. What would his friends think if they actually saw Harry eating ice cream with his worst enemy? Possible worst enemy? Ex-enemy? Still an enemy that wanted to torment Harry with kisses?

He'd given Malfoy enough time to look like a snob that he was. A Gryffindor inside of him pushed him to demand an answer that he hadn't been able to get out of his mind. He must have been really desperate when he'd written to Malfoy of all people, willingly, asked him to meet up somewhere.

But why had Malfoy chosen a place out in the open? They both had reputations to hold. What was wrong with him?

Harry opened his mouth but closed it then. How did one even confront situations like these, anyway?

"Malfoy."

Striking grey eyes lifted up to his. Harry pushed his abdomen to force down the squishy feeling the intense stare caused in him.

"We need to talk."

Malfoy snorted, smiling thinly. "Really, Potter? I thought you only wanted to eat some ice with me in complete silence."

Snarky, as always. Harry pursed his lips and deepened his scowl when Malfoy's eyes momentarily flickered lower and then, once again, averted to that damned mint ice cream. It was green too, like everything Malfoy liked.

He hadn't known Malfoys ate ice cream. It was like watching some strange creature eat something nasty as Malfoy lifted a spoonful of the cold delicacy into his mouth, grimacing when the coldness assaulted his teeth. Harry took a mouthful of his own vanilla flavoured one, not letting his eyes stray from the sight. Malfoy was now looking more annoyed than before, still stubbornly avoiding to look at Harry, until he finally snapped his eyes to him with a clenched jaw. It looked more pointed than ever.

"Just come out with it, Potter, and stop staring," he snapped, tips of his ears turning red. Harry cleared his throat one more time. He wished he'd ordered a drink too. With a final glance around him and still not seeing anyone he knew around – he bet only the crazy people would go out to narrow streets like this when the heat wanted to kill you – he finally said,

"I need to talk to you."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to rip his throat open. "Oh my god, Potter. I know you're a little slow in your head but for Merlin's sake stop repeating that!"

"Sorry." Harry instantly bit his lip. He didn't go apologizing to his enemies. Ex-enemies. Enemies.

"Whatever." Grey eyes rolled around. "Now tell me what you wanted to talk about so badly it couldn't wait till September. And don't you dare to repeat that same sentence anymore!" He pointed at Harry with his long, delicate finger. Harry's eyes strayed to it, his throat suddenly drier as he remembered all the places the same finger had touched almost two months ag—

It was like ripping off a bandage like his Mum often liked to say when Harry or James were putting off doing unpleasant things.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Malfoy went stiff, his still pointing finger falling abruptly. Disbelief shone from his face. He looked like he wanted to utter something that usually Malfoy himself would find ridiculous but finally the pale face morphed into a frustrated one.

He muttered something about idiot and slow Gryffindors and Harry felt like he should be insulted. But it was just Malfoy and Malfoy loved to insult him so he decided to concentrate on more important matters. Like getting out an answer.

"Stop that and just tell me," Harry insisted. Malfoy leaned back, still regarding him with an expression that didn't say anything good about Harry.

"Bloody moron."

"Yeah, well, tell me something new," Harry shot back. "Like something that answers my question."

"You're so daft."

"Are you avoiding answering me?"

Arms folding against lean chest told Harry enough. And he called Harry an idiot.

"Of course not." Malfoy lifted his chin. "I just think you should know the answer by now."

Harry tried to push his growing frustration down. "And how, pray tell me, would I know? I can't read your bloody mind."

Malfoy looked like he wanted to insult Harry more, like he wanted to point out every mistake Harry made while talking to Malfoy, but then something happened that made Harry forget how to breathe for a while. Malfoy's face relaxed, lines smoothing out, but the rarest thing was the expression Malfoy was regarding him with. Harry didn't know how he was supposed to look like when Malfoy shrugged at him, biting his bottom lip almost shyly.

He felt stupid when he cleared his throat once again, wondering what had stuck there.

Malfoy's sigh cleared his mind enough to listen to what the other boy had to say.

"I didn't think you'd remember that kiss."

Harry opened his mouth to tell how stupid that was but something made him take the insult back. Maybe it was the sincerity that Malfoy rarely showed or maybe the heat had put his fighting spirit down. He couldn't help a suspicion creeping into his mind, though. Malfoy was a Slytherin and Slytherins never did anything without thinking a few steps ahead.

Instead of letting any of that out, he muttered, "How could I forget?"

Because how could he? How could he ever forget something like a kiss from Malfoy? Maybe Harry wasn't the slow one here, after all.

"I don't know, we were pretty drunk back then… would you just stop looking around, Potter. No one's here," Malfoy snapped. Harry rubbed his neck, grinning bashfully.

"You never know. My Mom's ears are sharp."

Malfoy only shook his head.

"You're ridiculous." Harry didn't know how to react to the lack of jab in Malfoy's voice. He probably shouldn't react in any way since the last time he'd cared too much of Malfoy's doings had gotten him to this point. Ron had invited him to play Quidditch that day too but there he was instead, talking to that one person he'd never expected to have anything to do with on holidays.

It was true, tough. He couldn't forget and that was why his mind had finally given up after days of heated dreams of that night. It'd been just after the finals and the summer holiday was almost there. The O.W.L.s had been a nightmare to fifth years so the Gryffindor house had decided to have an end-of-school party with other houses. At first they hadn't invited any Slytherins because no one liked them – obviously – but then some Ravenclaw girl had invited her Slytherin boyfriend who had invited his Slytherin friends who had let the word of a party out and in the end resulting with half of the Slytherin house attending the party that had been only for the other three houses. Sure, Harry knew it was kind of unfair to leave people out like that just because they didn't get along but, well, how could you blame them.

It was a surprise that the night had went fairly well. There had been no fights other than couple of verbal ones but then everyone'd gotten too drunk to remember which house anyone belonged to. Only Harry and Malfoy had seemed to remember that detail and then Malfoy had done something and ruined it all.

He'd laughed at Harry's joke and Harry quite liked people who thought he was funny. The firewhiskey had even made it so that he hadn't considered Malfoy laughing at him in favour of making fun of him and suddenly they both had been relaxed enough to throw carefree jabs at each other. Somewhere closer to midnight Harry had finally shared the last of his drink with Malfoy and a little after that Malfoy had pushed Harry's hair behind his ear.

In present time, Harry pushed the same curl away again, letting his fingers trace the same path.

It might have been Harry who'd told Malfoy he'd always found the colour of his eyes fascinating but it'd definitely been Malfoy who'd told him his glasses were hideous and then followed it with a statement that at least they fit his facial structure and didn't make him look like a complete potato-head. Harry still wasn't sure whether or not that was a compliment.

It'd been Harry who'd let his knee press against Malfoy's knee, shifting closer on a loveseat. It'd been Malfoy who'd reached that gap and pressed his whiskey tasting lips on his. It'd been Harry who'd let his fingers run through the soft locks and finally Malfoy who'd looked at him with hooded eyes, hot breath hitting Harry's lips, surprisingly warm hands making their way through Harry's body like wanting to learn every nook and corner…

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Harry closed his eyes for a moment to block out the shine of the platinum blond hair and the stiffness of muscles he kind of wanted to smooth away.

Harry wanted to repeat himself; they really did have to talk.

"So why?"

Malfoy regarded him silently for a while, his posture not relaxing. "I just felt like it." Harry couldn't read his expression.

"Felt like it, huh?" Harry muttered to himself, mirroring Malfoy's stiffness. "So you just suddenly became horny and wanted a make-out session? And with me because I just happened to be there?"

Harry didn't know if that was for the best. He wanted to ignore the disappointment that almost made him leave right then and there but that meant going back to silent dinners, intrusive questions of his unusual distractedness and early mornings with fantasies of a boy he saw dreams of shagging.

"What does it matter?" Malfoy snapped, banging the bowl to the table. Some by-passers jumped from the sudden sound. Malfoy seemed to inhale the whole atmosphere before continuing, "Or do you want it to matter?"

"Well, yeah." Harry realized he'd said it too eagerly. "Uh, I mean, I just don't want to be used like that."

Malfoy raised his annoyingly perfect brow.

"You know, you wouldn't want to be taken advantage of either, right?"

"You were kissing me back quite eagerly, I might say."

Harry opened and closed his mouth, feeling his face flushing. "Oh, sod off, Malfoy."

Malfoy's smile was almost worth the embarrassment.

"So you want it to matter?" Malfoy said. "That it was you and not anyone else."

Harry was about to tell him to get lost one more time but somehow he didn't feel like it. Malfoy hadn't mocked him with the question, he'd just been curious. His face wasn't as guarded as it usually was and even the stiff shoulders had come down a notch. Malfoy leaned in a little, playing with his spoon absentmindedly.

He was waiting something, Harry realized with a start. But what? What should he answer? Harry could have read the boy wrong and what he'd read as something akin to hope was actually the Slytherin deviousness talking. In that case denying everything was the best option, going back to the way things were before spring, before winter when Malfoy hadn't been that insufferable, before autumn when he'd caught Malfoy looking at him across classroom more often than not. But if Malfoy was actually being sincere for once, if he wanted the truth…

Harry always preferred the truth himself. He liked it when people were honest with him and didn't regard him so lowly that he had to be lied to. Harry could use that same respect towards Malfoy – Slytherin or not, Malfoy was a respectable man with manners and only a bad temper – and some disgusting opinions. He definitely didn't deserve Harry's honesty… but Harry couldn't lie.

"Yeah." Harry took a bite of his dessert. "I like it better when people kiss me because it's me, not just because I happen to be there."

Malfoy's stance didn't change but if possible, he looked a little less sure. Harry tried to recall his words but everything sounded just right for him.

"I'm not sure you understood my question," Malfoy said calmly. "Did you want it to be you because it was me?"

Did he?

Oh lord, did he?

All colour drained from his face as he realized the truth.

Bloody hell, he was in so much trouble.

When Harry didn't answer, Malfoy started to lean back, his face falling and hundreds of walls he wore daily coming up. Harry jumped up, suddenly panicking he'd put out that shimmer of hope for good. Malfoy froze. Harry froze and then rubbed the nape of his neck.

"Uh," Harry started and was ready for a snarky comment which never came. He relaxed a little, sitting down as he noticed people watching them curiously. "Maybe?"

Malfoy pursed his lips. "Maybe?"

Harry took a shaky breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

Written on January 6, 2018