Snowed In

PART ONE/THREE - The Trapping.

A Harry/Draco romance.

(this ficcy contains male/male relations, so if you don't like it... don't read it!)

Rated PG 13 (will probably change to R in part 2 or 3)

Disclaimer: No own hotties, No sue writeress.

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"I hate snow."

It was the third time in as many hours that Harry Potter has let the thought wander venomously from his lips, staring up from his place in the semi-darkness - a look of helpless frustration aimed at the still heavily-falling flakes outside the small window above him.

"Yeh, well I'm sure that if the snow could talk it would say pretty much the same thing about you."

That was Draco Malfoy. He was currently perched atop a mound of discarded crates and other such junk on the opposite side of the room. His eyes cast out through a similarly grimy window that sat level with him - expression whistful as he watched the display outside. The only sound he made was a slight snigger to precede his formerly-spoken words.

"Shut up, Malfoy - I wasn't talking to you."

In actual fact, Harry loved when it snowed. Who wouldn't?

Soft, lacey flakes that drifted and danced in intricate patterns against a backdrop of the frozen world outside and the slightly-dappled clouds from which they came - filling the complete silence that surrounded each frozen particle with a type of fairytale magic.

Even at sixteen, Harry was still abit of a dreamer.

So, no, it wasn't that he disliked the snow as such - just the instances into which it had forced him.. .

He'd been practicing afew choice quidditch moves out on the field when the first flakes had began to fall. Harry had continued to soar about the sky - his usual effortless grace only being inhanced with further delight at what he was now caught up amongst. Occassionally he'd catch an icy particle on his tongue and thrill at the gentle burning that resulted from the contrasting temperatures - but other then this he simply carried a content smile on his face, his cheeks slowly coloring with natural rosiness over time.

Harry wasn't even sure at which point exactly it was that the weather began to change - somewhat dramatically. It seemed that one moment he was drifting about in the soft embrace of a world all his own, content with the solidarity and pleasently hazy thoughts - the next he was being thrown and pummled, torn and clutched at like some kind of mindless ragdoll, caught up in a violent snowstorm that had seemingly come out of nowhere.

As any sane person would do, Harry finally decided to seek some form of shelter and sanctuary from the weather - landing roughly and stumbling toward the broom shed that lay bordering his current location.

Thoughts didn't even process in his half-frozen mind until it was already too late.

He'd practically fallen into the comforting darkness that sat beyond the shed's heavy Hardwood door, half-tripping over his Gryffindor scarf that had come unravelled in the haste, and feeling more concern - apparently - for the way his body screamed against it's chilled state... then the panic-filled voice which warned him when hope was already lost.

"DON'T SHUT THE--"

SLAM!

"--DOOR!!"

If Harry wasn't already disorientated beyond coherant thoughts, he was quickly made to be - as a blur of silver and green seemed to materialise from the relative darkness beyond, smudged in his slowly-focusing eyes and made real as it's form brushed roughly past him.

"You.. complete.. and.. utter.. ASS!! You.. ARGHHHH!!!"

True to reality, Harry's eventual adjustment to the lack of light in the room proved that the voice and words could only belong to one person.. and not exactly the type he wanted as company.

"Malfoy?! What are you doing h--"

"SHUT UP, Potter! Look what you've done!!"

The Slytherin's eyes blazed with a mix of ice and quicksilver as he held up the blunt end of his wand to Harry's scrutinizing gaze - displaying the fact that it had been neatly snapped in half.

"You broke your wand?!"

"No, I didn't break my wand!" Draco raged, throwing the useless impliment to the floor. "YOU broke my wand!!"

"What in Merlin's name are you--"

"When you slammed the door, you moron! My wand was down there!!"

Harry was thoroughly confused at this point, though unperturbed by the blonde's intermingled insults. "What was your wand doing on the ground.. THERE on the ground?!"

"What else?! Stopping the door from shutting!" Draco rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world.

A look of horror finally began to dawn on the Gryffindors face a moment later, as he recalled Madame Hooch's warning about said door afew years previous... something about it jamming and the lock being rusty... .

Oh.

Oh dear Merlin!

"We're trapped in here!!" Harry cried in utter frustration - ignoring the look Draco shot him that implied he may have grown another head.

"Ten points to Gryffindor. My, Potter, how DO you do it?!"

"Can't we just pick it?" Harry tried tentatively, feeling stupid when the uselessness of the idea became apparent.

"The door is JAMMED, idiot, not locked! Merlin knows why Hooch didn't fix the damn thing - she's had enough time!"

After pummeling on the wood for some time in frustration, and gaining afew shallow splinters, both boys retreated to respective corners of the room - as far from each other as was humanly possible in a.. terribly small broom shed.

Now, after his occassional insults towards snow.. and the more hushed ones towards his unfortunate company, Harry turned towards Draco and decided, ultimately, to be the bigger man.

"Malfoy, as much as I acknowledge our mutual distaste towards each other.. I can't help but think that we may aswell make the most of the time we are stuck here.. ."

"What do you propose, Potter?" Draco spat in annoyance, "A quick shag?!"

"I won't even begin to analyise what twisted part of your brain thought that up," Harry returned - his cheeks blooming with color at the Slytherin's remark. "All I ment was that we might try and engage in a little light conversation."

"Forget it! I'm perfectly happy with myself as company - I don't need you."

"Fine. Forget it." Harry sighed in frustration and unwound the remaining length of his scarf from around his neck, dropping it with a wet 'plop' on the dusty floor. He was cold, hungry, and stuck with a complete prat for heaven knew how much longer. When were people going to start searching for him, anyway? Didn't they notice his vacancy? Didn't they care that he was dying of hypothermia, starvation and boredom here?

Harry couldn't help feeling sorry for himself - it just wan't fair! Not fair at all!!

Afew more minutes passed in utter silence, before he tried at the 'conversation' idea again.

"Look, I don't care if you don't talk to me - okay? Frankly, my throat is just getting sore from the cold & disuse of my vocal chords, so I'm just going to ramble and you can join in if you think you can handle it."

"Oh yeh, because rambling is SUCH an art form."

"Why was it such a big deal that your wand broke, anyway?" Harry questioned, genuinely curious and adamently refusing to be forced into another petty squabbling match - as was the norm between the two boys.

"Because firstly, I can't use it to put a silencing charm on you or hex you into oblivion - and secondly, because wands don't grow on trees!"

"Nice pun." Harry smirked, heightening the Slytherin's annoyance when he viewed his trademark look on the raven-haired boy. It actually looked natural on him.. . "But I mean, seriously - it's not as if you can't afford a new one."

"The wand was hard to come by. Apparently Ollivanders doesn't keep it in regular stock."

"Oh."

Harry couldn't help but feel increasingly uncomfortable as time wore on - it seemed that the soggy clothes he adorned had began to create a weird sort of humidity in the stale air of the little shed - turning the icy air to unbearable warmth. Draco must have noticed it too - even though his clothes were dry due to a spell he'd cast when his wand was still in one piece, he looked to be visibly flustered from the heat surrounding him.

"Don't look at me like that!" Harry demanded, as the Slytherin favored his sopping clothes with a look of distaste.

"Well your clothes are making the air smell bad in here - how do you expect me to look at you, like this?" Draco now reguarded him with a saucy look - running his eyes up and down Harry's drenched figure.

"I don't know! NO-! Don't be perverse, Malfoy!!" Draco sniggered.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"What does it look like?!" Harry groaned, frustrated beyond belief as he tore his robe and sweater off. "First I was suffering from hypothermia, now I'm boiling up. I'm not putting up with the heat when I can do something to make it more bearable."

"Right, so you feel perfectly okay just stripping infront of me.. . "

"Shut up - just don't look at me, okay?"

That was proving to be increasingly difficult, Draco found - the Gryffindor was extremely toned and tanned from all his time on the quidditch pitch. He looked good, by any measure - anyone would think so. It made the Slytherin exremely uncomfortable - there was no way he was sticking around getting unwanted jollies from a slowly-stripping Harry Potter.

"I'm getting out of here," He proclaimed stubbornly. "By the time anyone notices we're gone and decides to look for us, we'll already have died in here - if not from starvation, asphyxiation or heat stroke - then surely from bad company."

"Aren't you forgetting that we can't get out? I think if it were as simple as walking over to the door and opening it, neither of us would still be in here."

Draco ignored him and thumped against the door repeatedly, inspecting every inch of it in an attempt to figure out some solution. He must have been at it for the duration of an hour or so, before he stood up and began rattling the knob with such a force that it came flying off in his hand - sending him on his backside in the dirt. It looked pretty funny, but Harry resisted the urge to laugh - watching with watering eyes as Draco merely sighed and lent his forehead against the aging hardwood.

"Finally given up? Stop exerting yourself already - it isn't going to open. Besides, you're hands are riddled with splinters."

"Just be quiet, Potter." Draco growled, fixing him with the usual glare. "At least I'm trying to find a solution for getting us out, what are you doing?"

Harry shrugged and reached out for the blonde's hand, pulling it into his lap and inspecting the pieces of wood lodged finely under his pale skin.

Draco's eyes clearly bugged out at that point, after which he reclaimed his arm and pushed the Gryffindor away. "Don't touch me!"

"Merlin, Draco--"

"And don't call me that!!" The Slytherin spat. "We're not on a first-name basis, Potter!"

"Why are you being so touchy? I'm only trying to help!"

"Lets' get one thing strait," Draco seethed. "I have never - nor will I ever - need you, or your help."

Some moments passed, before Harry finally asked in a quiet tone "Who said anything about needing me?"

Draco swallowed, and was speechless.. even coloring a light shade of pink at being caught out.

"Although.. ."

"Although what?"

"You did want my friendship once.." Harry recalled, thinking back to their first year.

"Let's just forget about that, okay? It was a mistake."

"So.. how about now?" he prompted.

"What?"

Green eyes focused intensly on the Slytherin's profile. "Would it be a mistake asking me now?"

"Yes."

Pause. "Why?"

Draco's steel-grey eyes met with Harry's for a moment, before he slid to his feet and strode over to his side of the room - perching himself back atop the discraded crates.

"Because I don't want your friendship anymore, Potter.. I want more."

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END PART ONE

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Part two & three coming soon (sooner if i get some decent feedback!).