The Break-Up
He leaned against the shower tiles, feeling the tears run down his face, mixing with the water, all of it salt.
At length he turned off the water; he was not going to let Malfoy do this to him; he wasn't. If he wanted to shut him out, he could. But he wasn't going to let him win.
He got out and dried himself off, not even looking in the mirror. No one cared anyway.
Not anymore.
He sat down in the Common Room in a corner chair, not noticing that another student's school bag was alongside it until he felt a rustle beside him and smelled something fragrant.
"Hi Harry."
"Hi Lavender…sorry, were you sitting here? I'll get up." He started to, but she shook her head. "No, I'm going upstairs - stay where you are, you're fine."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh." She gathered her books.
"You smell good."
She smiled. "Thank you; must be the new shampoo I'm using."
"Well, whatever it is, it smells nice."
"You must have just gotten out of the shower yourself. Don't you ever comb that hair?" She tousled it affectionately.
"Why bother?"
"You should let me trim it for you," she said, eyeing it critically. "Then it might behave better."
Malfoy liked it long, messy, and shaggable.
Fuck him.
"Good idea. When you have time, let me know."
"I'm not doing anything right now; it would only take about 15 minutes."
"Uhm, ok - where?"
"Hmmm… how about in the girl's bathroom?"
"Ok, sure, thanks. But uh, the girl's…?"
She smiled. "It'll be ok; I'll vouch for your pure intentions. Come on up."
Minutes later he was seated in a well-lit corner of the girl's bathroom draped in a towel and Lavender was standing behind him. "Don't worry; I do this all the time for people."
"I'm not worried; do I strike you as someone who gives much of a shit about looks?"
She laughed. "No, no one could ever accuse you of vanity. How about just a little off so it lays better?"
He thought a moment, and then decided. "No. It's become a total pain in my ass so just get rid of it."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded, thinking of Malfoy running his fingers through it and pulling on it while he arched into him and moaned his name in his ear.
She walked around him, visualizing. "How have you been able to even see?"
He shrugged and smiled. She shook her head, eyed him critically, then picked up her scissors and comb and started cutting. She chatted to him about people, things and gossip, which required a minimum amount of response, and soon enough she was done, swishing the mess away. "Okay, all done. It's pretty short though, 'because you did say to…"
"I'm sure its fine, Lav. I trust you."
"Well go look anyway." She pushed his shoulder and he stood up and went to the mirror, examining himself critically. He ran his fingers through it, shoving it off his forehead.
"Feel better?"
He smiled. "Much. It looks really good, thanks. What can I do for you in return?"
She blushed a bit. "Well..."
He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Uhm, well, it's just that, well, Harry, I think you're really cute and I would love to go out with you at least once."
"You want to go out?" He wasn't sure if he was hearing correctly, because as far as he knew, Lavender had never had eyes for anyone except Ron.
"Yes." She was blushing more now. "I know - I mean I think you've been seeing someone but…"
"I was, but it's over."
"Oh, so you're…"
"Free, yeah. And sure, let's; where do you want to go?"
"Really?"
She was pretty; he'd always thought so. This wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.
"Absolutely; how about dinner in Hogsmeade on Saturday?"
"Yes! That would be lovely."
"All right then." He smiled and leaned over to lightly kiss her cheek. "Thanks again."
She touched her cheek looking stunned. "You're welcome."
He went back down to the dorm and found a parchment on his bed. He turned to Ron who was sprawled on his bed reading. "When did this come?"
Ron looked up. "About a half hour ago…hey, nice haircut. Lavender?"
"Yeah." He unfolded the scrap of parchment and read.
"Potter, meet me at the lake in half an hour, alone. Please."
Malfoy never said please…unless he was begging to be fucked into the mattress.
He debated not going, but knew he would.
Draco could still do that to him.
&&&&&
It was fucking cold, he decided, pulling up the collar of his jacket; why were there no wizarding academies in the Bahamas?
He saw Draco sitting on a log near the water's edge, looking out over the waves.
He approached him, sitting down on an adjacent log. He said nothing.
"Thank you for coming." Draco's voice was subdued.
Harry shrugged. "You asked nicely."
There was silence for a long moment. He felt Draco's eyes moving over him.
"You cut your hair."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Felt like it."
"I liked it long, the way it was." He sounded disappointed.
"I know."
Draco gave a short laugh. "So that's why you did it - because I'd hate it?"
"I don't much care whether you do or not, frankly. My life and choice of hairstyle no longer revolves around you, in case you hadn't figured that out yet."
"That's very mature of you, Potter."
"Fuck you, Malfoy. Since you no longer want me, why the hell do you care what my hair looks like?" Harry paused, then added, "Or any other part of me, for that matter."
Draco sighed, his patented "You're a moron, Potter," sigh. "I never said I didn't want you, you asshole. I said that we couldn't be together publicly right now."
Harry snorted. "Which basically equates to "Sod off, Potter."
"Which equates to circumstances keeping us apart!"
Harry turned to glare at him. "You're keeping us apart! You and your family ties and your need for appearances and your…"
"Harry, for God's sakes you knew all that from the start!"
"Yeah, I did." He didn't say anything else but scooped up some stones and stood to skip them across the surface of the lake, watching the ripples spread. He felt Draco get up and come stand behind him, but didn't move, just skipped another stone. Four hops this time; practice makes perfect.
He felt a light touch across his neck, a finger trailing down from his nape to his shoulder blade, then warm breath on his skin and the feel of warm, moist lips on his neck. He shivered, and it wasn't from cold. "Draco…Don't."
"Why not?" The lips moved against his skin and traveled upward to his jaw line.
"Because it's over; we are over." Harry tried to step away, but an arm snaked around his waist and didn't let him move.
"Mmm…salty bare neck; this new look might not be such a travesty after all." He paused in his licking for a moment. "We will never be over, Potter, you know that. We're destined to be together."
The lips moved again, a tongue darting out to lave his earlobe. Harry moaned involuntarily as familiar sensations coiled in his groin and flared upwards. "Stop, Malfoy. I mean it. No."
The arm slid back and he felt the other step away from him. "Harry, this doesn't have to be the end; we just have to be careful and discreet and …."
"I'm tired of hiding," he said abruptly. "I'm tired of pretending. If your family ties mean all that to you, you should be fucking a pureblood of your own rank instead of slumming it with me. I want to be able to walk to class with you, hold your hand if I want to, kiss you goodbye after breakfast…this whole hiding from the world thing sucks. You swore it would only be for a little while… a few months, six at most. It's been a goddamned year now Draco! And all that tells me is that you never had any intent of us being public. I've been your little fucking plaything that you kept in a closet and brought out when you were alone. Well, fuck that! I'm not doing it, not anymore."
He paused to catch his breath. "If you loved me the way you say you do, you wouldn't be ashamed and you wouldn't hide. But you are, so you do. So go find someone you can show off, and let me be."
"Harry, it's not like that, at all. You know better." His tone was hurt. Harry found he didn't much care.
"No I don't. And it doesn't matter what you say anymore. I'm moving on."
"Moving on means what, exactly?" The tone had changed to cautious.
"Meaning I have a date on Saturday…a PUBLIC date, Draco, with someone who actually WANTS to be with me and isn't ashamed of it."
"Who?" Now the tone was low and slightly dangerous.
"Why the hell do you care?"
"Humor me Potter…my boyfriend of a year is telling me he has a date and I'm curious."
"Lavender Brown."
Draco exhaled sharply. "You ARE fucking kidding me, right?"
"No. She expressed interest and I offered to take her to dinner and she accepted."
"When the fuck were you chatting up Lavender Brown?"
"When she was cutting my hair for me earlier, we got to talking."
Draco's eyes narrowed. "Well, there are two reasons to hex her right there."
"Two?"
"Yes. First she chops off your hair, and then has the temerity to ask you out." Draco folded his arms and scowled.
Harry sighed. "I asked her to do it, and for your information, she merely said she thought I was cute and would like to go out sometime. *I* asked her to dinner. So don't get your boxers in a bunch over it."
Draco stared at him. "That's all you can say about this? Don't get my pants in a twist?"
"Pretty much."
"Jesus Harry!"
"Jesus Draco!"
"So that's it? You're gonna start dating some scissor-happy bint with a schoolgirl crush on Heroic Harry Potter and live happily ever after?"
Draco's voice was rising and his hands, Harry noted, were clenched tightly at his sides.
"She's not a bint."
"But you're not denying the rest of it!"
"She may have a crush on me - so what of it? Think no one else ever could?"
"She has all the personality of a manticore!"
"How the hell would YOU know? You've never deigned to speak to her or any other Gryffindor kindly in your life, except for me. You're acting jealous and irrational."
"I AM jealous and irrational. I thought you loved me, Potter. Guess I was wrong."
"Draco…" Harry closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them again – he should have known Draco would toss out something like this. "I do love you. I will probably ALWAYS love you. But I'm not gonna play by your rules anymore. And you aren't about to change them, so that's where we are. In the meantime, I am going to take Lavender to dinner on Saturday, and if anyone else asks me out, I'm going to go…well, within reason," he thought, thinking of Finnigan and his imminent jump for joy when the word got out that Harry was single again.
"So what you are saying is that there's nothing I can do about this." Draco's voice was flat.
"Yes and no. No, there is nothing you can do about Saturday - I'm going. But yes, there is something you could do about it, but you won't, so I guess the answer really is no on both counts."
"I really don't believe this, Harry. You know I love you. Why is that not enough for you?"
Harry stared at him, and then laughed, much to Draco's annoyance. "That sounds so much more convincing when it comes from me. Don't ape my words until you can do it a hell of a lot more convincingly, ok?"
"I still don't believe this." Draco folded his arms. "You are not going, and that's all there is to it."
"I most certainly AM going and there's nothing you can do about it that doesn't require hexing. You aren't willing to make the life changes you need to be with me publicly, so screw you. Why don't you find yourself a cute girl and we'll double date?"
Harry pulled up his collar and ran his hand through his hair.
"Seeing as how women do nothing for me, that's unlikely." Draco was pouting now. Pouting and pissed off. Usually a lethal combination, but Harry steeled himself.
"Sorry then. See you around in class and stuff, ok?" He started up the path and was halfway up before a shouted "Potter!" after him made him stop. He turned.
Draco looked dejected. "Please don't do this."
His heart twisted. "I'm sorry. This is your doing, Draco. I told you." He made himself turn around and keep walking but he felt Draco's gaze boring into his back until he closed the main door behind him.
&&&&&
The next several days were not easy for Harry Potter.
A thrilled Lavender had told all the girls in Gryffindor that she and Harry were "dating." After a couple of times, he had given up calling it "a simple date" and just gone with the flow. He figured it was easier that way but when she sat next to him at breakfast and casually handed him her books to carry for her to Transfiguration, he knew it was already out of hand.
Still, he followed her dutifully, privately thinking that Malfoy at least carried his own shit around.
Draco Malfoy was also not having an easy time of it. He watched the Gryffindor table like a hawk and roundly scowled every time Lavender went anywhere near Harry, so he scowled often. The rest of Slytherin House learned to not speak to Draco at meals…and as the week went on, not in class, in the halls or the loo either, lest they be shouted down at best, or hexed at worst.
By Thursday, he was in a full-fledged snit and decided that this situation was completely out of hand.
He waited for Harry after Arithmancy and dragged him into an alcove under the pretense of giving him a prefect detention for whistling in the halls whilst eating a pear. A definite no-no and one that was clearly stated in the school handbook under Appendix L, Section XXIV, subsection g.
Truth be told, it was the eating the pear part that had gotten to Draco; those strong white teeth biting into firm flesh, the tongue licking at the juice pooling on his lower lip….
Draco remembered that tongue licking at OTHER juices pooling and had to shift himself unobtrusively in his trousers.
"All right, Potter, just what the hell do you think you're doing with that fruit?" He folded his arms and glared at Harry, who merely finished chewing and wiped his lips on his sleeve and looked him over.
"Nothing at present…the fruit broke up with me."
"I am not a fucking fruit, first of all, and second of all that is SO not the point. And I didn't break up with YOU, YOU broke up with ME!"
"Did not."
"Did so!"
"Not."
"So!"
"See, you said it yourself," noted Harry, calmly taking another bite while Draco fumed.
Goddamn but he hated Gryffindors.
He tried using his most reasonable tone. "Harry, you cannot go through with this whole "date" thing."
"Why is that?" Harry continued chewing and Draco watched his jaw move.
"Give me that bloody pear!" He grabbed it out of Harry's hand and glared at him.
"I can't go through with this because of a bloody pear?" Harry squinted at Draco through his glasses. "That seems odd reasoning, even for you, Malfoy."
"Fuck the pear; you can't go through with this because it's not right. She's already told half the school you're dating and you haven't even gone out yet! She's a psycho, Potter. Guess its good you know now, huh?"
"Psychos seem to like me, "agreed Harry, reaching over and taking his pear back. "Consider your Lord, for example - now there's a guy who…"
"Harry," said Draco, attempting to be calm while Harry continued to eat his pear. "I know you're upset with me…"
"Really? What gave it away?"
"…and you have every right to be. You're sick of hiding, pretending, and so am I. You think I don't want everyone to know I have a hot boyfriend?"
"Sure you do; status and all that. Who's your hot boyfriend? Do I know him? Is he good in bed?"
Draco resisted the urge to smack Harry's glasses off his face. "The point is, Potter, I understand how you feel because I feel it too. I want us to be publicly together."
A flicker of hope lit Harry's eyes, turning the green deep and luminous. "You do?" His voice was husky and Draco felt himself twitch under his robe again.
"I really do."
"Oh, God, Draco…." Harry sighed and pear forgotten, leaned in and kissed him softly, tasting of pear and pumpkin juice and various other delicious flavors as well as the undertone of Harry that was always delectable. Draco kissed him back hungrily, his hands sliding simultaneously around Harry's back and neck, pulling him close.
They remained locked in the kiss for several moments, until Harry broke contact and whispered "So we can be together in the clear?"
"Absolutely, in a month or two, three at the most…"
Harry yanked himself back abruptly and scrubbed his lips with the sleeve of his robe. "You lying sack of shit!"
"Harry, love, this time I have a definite timeframe, a plan…"
"No you don't! You just wanted to cop a quick feel and lead me on…goddamn you Malfoy!" He picked up his books and started to shove past him but Draco blocked his way. "Harry, please. Have a little faith. Can't you wait just a few more months?"
"No! I can't! Either have me now or don't have me at all! Jesus Christ, I told you this the other day! Did you think I was lying? Having you on? No!"
"Harry, don't you know how much I want to? My father would fucking kill me, not to mention what Volde…"
"Don't even say it." Harry was close to him, and Draco could feel his breath on his cheek. "Don't even mention that psychotic fuck to me. I told you I could protect you and I can. I told you that I have enough so that if your father disowns you, we could live just fine and we could. I told you that we could be happier than two people have ever been in their lives, and we could. None of that is enough for you. Fine; it's your choice and you made it. You chose your name over me, Lord No Nose over me and your image over me. Now get the fuck out of my way before I lose control and mess up that pretty, pretty face of yours."
That tone of voice was one that Draco, despite their many years of exchanged insults, had never heard from Harry before; it unnerved him. Desperately he tried again. "Harry, I love…"
Harry shoved him, hard, out into the hall which was luckily empty. "No you don't. Don't ever say that to me again until the day comes when you fucking mean it." He made sure to not touch him again as he shouldered his bag and walked past Draco and down the hall.
Draco had never felt as helpless as he once again watched Harry walk away from him.
"So where are you gonna take her, mate?" Ron was shuffling cards for another round of Exploding Snap with Neville.
Harry looked up from where he was trying to choose between three shirts. "I was thinking the Black Boar…all the seventh years say it's good and you can get served there if you promise not to tell where you got shitfaced."
He pondered his choices; he'd never cared what he wore before, since Draco had always picked his clothes out for him. Prat actually CARED what colors went together.
He felt a momentary sadness wash over him for what had been and was no longer.
"What color?" he finally asked, turning to Ron, who shrugged. "Dunno, Harry. Just pick one. You've been staring at 'em for 10 minutes. Who are you, Malfoy?"
Harry started slightly, but managed to laugh. "God forbid."
"Yeah, no shit; if you were, you'd still be in the bathroom messing with your hair." Ron snorted and began to deal a new hand.
"Pick the black one, Harry," said Neville quietly. "It will hide anything you spill on it."
Harry looked over at him and had to smile his thanks.
"You're a wise man, Nev."
"When in doubt go with dark colors, is my thought. You never know what will happen."
"True." Harry pulled off his t-shirt and slipped the black shirt on, buttoning it up and turning back the cuffs. A moment later, he was lacing his boots and grabbing his leather jacket, the one that Draco bought for him three months ago. It held memories and Harry had to force his mind away from them.
Lavender was waiting for him in the Common Room, and he couldn't help smiling at her, a genuine smile. She looked every bit as pretty as he figured she would and he was almost happy as he took her hand and left to a chorus of 'goodbyes, have funs, and don't do anything we wouldn't dos!'
They walked down the steps of the Tower and were almost to the door when she stopped and muttered to herself before looking over at him.
"Harry, I forgot something upstairs, just a minute, ok? I'm sorry."
He squeezed her hand lightly before letting go. "No problem. I'll wait here."
She flashed him a smile, and disappeared as fast as her high heels would allow. Thank God Hogsmeade was but a short walk away, Harry thought, for her sake.
Draco's voice behind him cut through his thoughts. "Nice outfit on your woman; is it 'Whoring for Witches Night' in Hogsmeade?"
Harry sighed, unsurprised that he was there. "Shut up Malfoy. I think she looks pretty."
"I'm prettier." Draco's tone was airy and assured, and Harry had to laugh.
"You have your moments though I've never seen you in heels before. Stockings and garter belt yes, heels no."
"Harry…you can still back out. I'm sure Brown can find some other bloke who wants some to take her out."
Harry sighed. "Don't be such an ass. We've had this conversation before and I don't want to hear it again. I'm here because I want to be, and because you're a fucking lying git. So shut the hell up and leave me be."
Lavender came back down the stairs, flushed, the pink cheeks against her light brown hair making her beautiful. "Sorry Harry."
"Really, Lav, it's fine. No problem. Ready now?"
"Yes." She looked questioningly at Draco, who was still standing there, arms folded, scowling.
"Is there a problem, Malfoy?"
Before he could open his mouth to answer, Harry interjected.
"No, Malfoy is just wandering the halls insulting people because he has nothing better to do on a Saturday night. Let's go."
Harry shot Draco a glare which promised that Very Bad Things would happen if he said another word. Pissed, Draco turned and walked down the hall, flinching just a bit as the door closed behind them.
He couldn't help himself; he went to the window and watched them, wincing when Harry put his arm around the bint and snuggled her into his side against the chilly night air. He watched them until he couldn't see Harry any more and reflected that he has seen more of Potter's back lately than he ever wanted to.
Desolate, Draco made his way to the sixth floor storage room where he and Harry used to meet and sat down on the bed they'd conjured together, taking deep breaths, trying to control himself. Malfoys didn't succumb to foolish emotion. Emotions were for lesser folk, weaker folk.
This is what he told himself, over and over again, but it's no use. He rolled over onto Harry's side of the bed and let the hot tears he'd been suppressing for a week, come. They flow hot and fast and feel as though they are taking a piece of his soul with them as they slide down his face.
It was a very, very long night.
&&&&&
Harry couldn't help but look for Draco the next morning; the other boy is not at breakfast, although Harry anxiously scanned the room for him, all the while pretending to listen to Lavender, who has regaled everyone at the table with the story of their romantic evening at least twice so far. It wouldn't be so bad, he reflected, if she didn't insist on giving complete details on their one kiss…one only because he stopped in the midst of it, unable to continue.
Despite his closed eyes, despite his best attempts to clear his mind he was kissing a stubborn, obnoxious, rude prat whom he loved.
After breakfast, he excused himself, desperate to get away from the knowing glances and whispers of his House – and hell, half of Ravenclaw and most of Hufflepuff – were tossing his way. He made it to the corridor mercifully un-followed and paused, thinking.
He spelled the door of what he had come to think of as their room open and was not entirely surprised to see Draco lying there, asleep. He was also not surprised to see the tear tracks still evident on his face. His own had been erased after several minutes in a hot shower this morning. He sat down next to the other boy, and touched his shoulder gently.
"Draco…Wake up."
No response. Crying oneself to sleep over lost love begets deep slumber as Harry knew well from recent experience.
He sighed, and against all conventional wisdom, he got up and went around to the other side of the bed, lying down next to Draco, curling himself around the other boy in the way both familiar and not at the same time.
The coverlet still smelled of them, of the soap Draco insisted on using, and made Harry use too, and of Draco's cologne which Harry chose for him in Diagon Alley and which Draco makes sure to use whenever they'll be together.
His throat felt raspy and his eyes were hot.
Don't, Potter….just don't.
He slid his arm around Draco's waist and nestled closer, whispering in his ear. "Draco."
The other woke with a start and turned over to look up at Harry, shock and then hope written across his face.
"What are you…" but his words were eclipsed by Harry's lips on his, by his tongue sliding over his and the thoroughly wonderful sensation of being kissed by the one and only person he loved in the world.
The kiss lasted for a very long time, and was filled with the passion and longing that both of them felt for each other.
"God, Harry," whispered Draco as they finally came up for air. "Why are you here?"
"Same reason as you. I missed you." He hated to admit this, hated to admit that Draco still has this power over him. He was going to stand firm, was going to say 'No,' not until you can be honest, truthful…maybe not even then. He was going to punish him for not believing. Punish him for not having faith.
Punish him for being him.
I'm a sick fuck, Harry thought miserably. I ask him to be what he can't be and then blame him for it.
"Draco."
"What, love?"
That simple word makes him swallow hard. "I'm sorry. I want to be with you. I don't want anyone else. Last night sucked."
Draco opened his arms and Harry crawled willingly into them.
"I told you she was a psycho."
His tone is teasing. Harry swallows. "I kissed her."
"Did you?" He could feel Draco tensing up and Harry buried his face in his neck.
"How was it?"
"Nothing I want to remember. It wasn't her fault. She just wasn't you."
Draco sighed theatrically. "So many try, so few succeed."
"You're an original and then they broke the mold, thank heavens. Kiss me more."
It was a demand and to argue would be nothing less than total folly.
Kissing led to touching, and touching led to nakedness and bodies rubbing together and moans and cries and finally, exhaustion, and sweat sheening them both.
"What are we going to do?" Harry was lying on his side as Draco traced patterns onto the damp skin of his back.
"I don't know."
It was the same answer as it had always been, and just as unsatisfying as ever.
"I can't stay away from you - I guess I really am weak." Harry's voice was low and sad. "I want to, but I can't."
"You can't because you really don't want to."
Harry couldn't answer and just shoved his face into the pillow, cursing his utter lack of willpower and pride.
Draco stopped tracing and moved over closer to Harry, putting his hand on the back of Harry's neck. "If it makes you feel any better…once I woke up I was planning on storming Gryffindork Tower, pushing around a couple of first years, and then ravishing you on your bed in full view of all your mates."
Harry had to snicker, imagining Ron, Neville, and Dean's faces…and Seamus' probable hard-on at the sight.
"As if."
"I mean it, I couldn't take it either; if you're weak, then I'm worse, because I broke down before you did."
"Had I not been in public and forced to feign interest in my date, I would have beaten you here."
"Really?" Draco arched an eyebrow and Harry rolled over to laugh at him. "Not like that, though that would have happened sooner or later."
"I'm grateful it happened at all." Draco looked at him with that expression that, damn him, always made Harry melt.
"You're looking at me that way on purpose."
"No…I'm looking at you this way because I love you and this is rubbish and I'm not gonna do it anymore." He sat up, and so did Harry. Draco's face was determined. "It's time for lunch."
The abrupt change in subject caused Harry to look at him oddly, but Draco was nonplussed.
"Get dressed, Potter."
Harry got off the bed and pulled on his jeans, reaching for his T-shirt. "You know, if you need food, I can call Dobby and…"
Draco shook his head. "This has nothing to do with food."
"Lunch has nothing to do with food?"
"Not this time." Draco shoved his feet into his loafers and waited for Harry to tie his trainers before holding out his hand. "Your table or mine?"
Stunned, Harry stared at him. "Are you serious?"
"I've never been more serious in my life."
Harry didn't question him further, just shrugged. "You're more likely to survive at the Gryffindor table; your housemates would probably poison me."
"They try and they'll deal with me…and trust me, they don't want that."
It was Sunday noon, and many students were studying or still asleep from the past night's debauchery; the halls were empty and before long, the door to the Great Hall stood before them.
Harry found that his hands are slippery and he tried to pull his hand away for a moment to wipe them on his jeans; but Draco wasn't about to let go.
"My hands are sweaty too, Potter. Get over it."
Harry had dreamed of a moment like this for years, but now that it was actually here, he found that he wasn't so sure it was a good idea after all.
"Draco…" Harry pulled him into a corner and looked deep into his eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this? This is going to change everything."
"I know."
"But your father…"
"…can go fuck himself, along with my mother, their circle, and oh, yeah, Voldie."
He paused and looked at Harry intently. "Nothing was worth how I felt last night watching you walk off with that bin…Brown. bNothing./bI barely made it to the room before I was a fucking wreck. I'm not going to live like that, Harry. Neither are you. You deserve better than to be kept a secret."
He took a breath and managed a smile. "Besides I want everyone to know I have a hot boyfriend who, yes, you DO know, and yes, IS good – bloody brilliant, in fact – in bed."
"You're doing this for me." It's a not a question – it's a statement.
Draco shook his head. "No. I'm a selfish bastard and I'm doing it for ME. That you get benefits is just icing on the cake." He smiled then. "Icing, incidentally, sounds like a great idea for later, so if you WANT to call Dobby…"
Harry laughed, and then reached up to stroke his cheek. "This is brave of you."
"About time…I've spent the last year being a coward. Ready?"
Harry took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Ready."
Draco pushed the door open, and they walked in, hands squeezing each other tight.
And that was the beginning.
15