Okay, so I wanted to give an author's note to explain some of this. This story was my first ever Male/Male story, with one of my favorite couples, Draco and Harry. I wrote this in February of 2013, and have been wanting to continue writing it ever since, but I got to a writer's block. What I decided to do, was to post this first chapter and see how things go.
Now I wanted to acknowledge some wonderful authors, who's names I can't recall. I read a story, a Drarry, where there was a garden that Harry took care of with Dobby. I read it a long time ago and haven't been able to find it since. I wanted to credit that author, whoever he/she is, with this garden idea. I took a slightly different twist, but it was not originally mine, I was inspired by another author.
Also, I recently read a NaruSasu story that was brilliant and it too, was not fast-paced, but calm and sweet, like mine. I just finished reading it and I loved it so much, it inspired me to post my own story, so thank you Rasengan22 for the inspiring story!
Okay, I realize that most of us just skip these author's notes (I do lots of times *sheepish grin*), so now, onto the story!
Harry sighed in relief as he felt the cool night air brush against his skin. He had once again escaped his creepy, devoted followers at Hogwarts. Colin Creevey was naturally at the top of the list, but there were a few others that had always been back and forth throughout the years. Only after Harry defeated Voldemort did they try to be his friend.
He had always hoped that the Wizarding world would be less…muggle in many aspects. He had hoped that maybe they would respect his wishes to take it easy and try to be a kid a little longer. It wasn't that he wanted to be immature, but he had once had the fate of the world on his shoulders, and it was a tiring place to be. He didn't regret everything he had gone through, and he couldn't completely hate how his life had played out because he was a stronger person for it.
When he was growing up he had been demure and subjected to much abuse in many forms: beatings, not eating, and even despite everything, neglect. When he was eleven, he had been introduced into the Wizarding world, and it had always been his safe haven, his own little secret.
As he got older, the weight of his destiny began to fall on his shoulders. It really hit home in his fourth year when he had seen Voldemort return and kill Cedric. It made him want to be stronger, it wasn't just his destiny anymore because everyone said it was his destiny; now, it was personal.
Fifth year, Umbridge was the final string that opened his eyes up to the hypocrisy, and the selfishness and ignorance of the Wizarding world. He fought the hypocrisy, fought Umbridge, and then Sirius died, and it was all his fault. He had never fully forgiven himself for that. When that happened, he'd been forced to become an adult and make adult decisions, no more hiding from them.
Sighing again, he realized that he had walked on auto pilot and found himself upon the edge of the Black lake. He shivered; those weren't the most pleasant memories for him.
His mind wandered once again to the end of it all, the defeat of Voldemort. He'd done what was prophesied, he'd killed the most evil man in the history of the Wizarding world, and he was the savior of all. But he was only seventeen years old for crying out loud!
Fudge had already saved a spot for him in the Auror department of the Ministry of Magic when he graduated from Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure he was ready yet, or ever would be, to really want that position. At one time, he would have jumped at the opportunity, but after everything, he was okay with being in limbo.
Then again, if he didn't take the Auror position then what would he do? He didn't fit in the Muggle world, and he no longer really fit in the Wizarding world. He was the savior of the Wizarding world and would be so until the day he died. People would continue to ask for his photograph, autograph, and press him to write a book about himself. Once again, only seventeen!
Maybe he would just become an author and write his life story of seventeen years. He'd never really tried. But then again, he remembered how Lockhart had taken advantage and gotten popular through his books, and the idea was immediately turned down.
Maybe he would do something simple, but what that was, he didn't know. Then again, there was the other aspect of his life he hadn't considered for a long time: romance.
After the war and Voldemort, Harry realized that he didn't love Ginny. He still loved the Weasleys, but he just couldn't love her as more than a sister, exactly like Hermione. She had been upset and Ron had yelled at him a bit, but it wasn't like they had ever really officially dated, and despite her attachment, she claimed that she understood his decision.
Ginny had started dating Dean Thomas once again, and seemed genuinely happy for the time being. He hoped she would stay happy with Dean. However, despite not liking her as more than a sister, if Dean hurt her at all, he would be front in line along with her brothers, to pay the boy back dearly.
His lips quirked up at that thought, poor Dean; he probably didn't even realize what he had gotten himself into when he decided to date Ginny again.
When Harry came out of his thoughts, he found himself by the Quidditch field. Maybe he would be a professional Quidditch player! Why not? Not only would he get to do something he loved as much as anything in the world, but teams often traveled around for games and he enjoyed traveling. Sure, he'd done it the hard way while looking for the Horcruxes when Ron got injured, but this was sure to be different. It was a definite possibility, and the most appealing one yet. He would need to remember to put an inquiry into the branch of the Ministry that took care of Quidditch details.
Now that he had some sort of idea as to what he might want to do in the future, he wandered to the far side of the lake and into a garden that Dobby had showed him once during his fifth year. Dobby of course loved the garden, and when he showed it to Harry, Harry had taken it on as a personal project to get it up to speed and help Dobby to make it beautiful once again.
On his free periods he often disappeared to work on the garden; the hard labor allowed his mind to be taken off of the pressures of the world. For the first time in his life, he was quite glad that his Aunt Petunia had forced him to take care of all of her gardens for years.
At this time it was fall and so the garden was shedding its green beauty to be replaced by a red, brown, and yellow beauty. Fall had always been Harry's favorite season; it wasn't as cold as winter, not as hot as summer, and not as humid as Spring.
The moment he took one step across the boundary from the grounds and into the garden, he knew something was different; somehow he could feel the magic in the garden and it wasn't quite right. Taking out his wand he moved slowly into the garden, avoiding obvious open spaces.
He was about to give up completely when his eyes suddenly landed on something pale in the moonlight. It was a person, and they were leaning heavily against the trunk of one of the apple trees in the fruit grove. Harry couldn't quite make out who it was, but he needed to find out who had invaded his sanctuary, and if he needed to obliviate their memory to make them forget it.
Creeping closer, he finally came right up to the body and nearly gasped: it was Draco Malfoy. Of all people, he wasn't expecting Draco Malfoy to be sitting in his own private sanctuary. What was even more surprising was that the pale boy was completely asleep.
After the war, Draco hadn't exactly avoided Harry, but he hadn't been awful to him either. Mostly, he was indifferent to Harry's presence at school. He supposed that Draco was only being civil because it was his own testimony in their trials with the ministry that freed both his mother and himself of all charges and helped to clear the Malfoy name. Lucius had gone to Azkaban, but Narcissa still visited him when she could, and he was due to get out on a lighter sentence because of his switch in loyalties toward the end of the war. He would only be four years in Azkaban.
Harry had nothing against Draco except their old rivalry, and even that now had been pushed aside with the waste after the war; it seemed silly and childish to continue fighting as they had. Tilting his head, he began to actually study Draco's appearance.
His hair had grown out since last year; it wasn't quite as long as his father's, but it was getting there, and Harry rather preferred the slightly messy look to his perfect and slicked back hair from the first three or so years he knew the Slytherin. His skin was pale but perfect, and it glowed as he was bathed in moonlight, almost making him appear ethereal. His robes were nice and expensive looking, as expected of a Malfoy, but his entire demeanor was relaxed. Harry had never seen the look of pure serenity on the boy's face as he slept in the peace that this garden allowed; it was kind of comforting in a way that Draco found comfort in something Harry had put work into. Not magic, and not by anyone's expectations of his own, but by the sheer willpower to make it his sanctuary, and the sweat off of his back to make it that way.
He scrunched his nose up as he sat down across from Draco and continued to stare at him. Harry had to admit that Draco had always been attractive in a way that was opposite of Harry. Harry was tanned and rather rough looking at times due to his indifference to his wardrobe, among other things. But Draco always looked so elegant and prepared for anything; he was handsome in that way.
The longer he observed Draco, the more he found that he liked looking at the Slytherin. It was strange, even as he thought about it, that he could hardly tear his gaze from Draco's features, but at this point, he didn't really care if it was strange or not, he was just indulging his desire.
How often was it that he got to spend so much time looking at the Slytherin boy without a sneer passing over his face, or anger or irritation marring his features? Not often, and he was taking advantage of it.
He wasn't tired at all, and so he didn't know how long he stayed that way. Only when he could feel the vibrations in the air that told him the sun would be rising soon, did he stand up. He glanced one last time at Draco and then made his way out of the garden and back into the castle.
For the next two weeks, Harry would sneak out to the garden, where he found Draco liked to haunt. Every night the pale boy fell asleep, and every night Harry just looked at him. At first it was with curiosity, but soon he found that he longed for it. He looked forward to his private voyeurism each and every night; he liked indulging in a particular desire, and he wasn't ready to stop.
Once it was winter he knew he wouldn't be able to do this, so he was taking advantage as much as he could.
It was on one particular night, two weeks after this whole thing started, that the urge to kiss Draco hit him, and hit him hard. He had just walked up in his invisibility cloak and sat down in front of Draco, who was unsuspecting and awake still. Harry had found out after a few nights that it wasn't enough to just watch the boy sleep, but he wanted to see his eyes too; those beautiful grey eyes that he had always admired. He had always liked how they lit up during one of their fights, but he liked them even now, when they were relaxed.
Anyway, one look at the boy and the thought of wanting to kiss him came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. He shook his head, why did he think that? What was he thinking, wanting to kiss Draco? Maybe it was because things had finally settled and he'd had a chance to realize just how much he wanted a relationship with someone. However, he really didn't like that conclusion anymore than anything else; he'd never been particularly desperate, and there was not one girl that made him want to feel desperate, despite throwing themselves at his feet. No, it was obvious that he really genuinely wanted to kiss Draco.
When he was younger, he would have freaked and denied such desires, but now he really didn't care. With Draco, he would hold no desires back; if he wanted to kiss the Slytherin, he would kiss him, and that was that. One thing about the war was that he had began to accept aspects of himself he'd never been terribly fond of before, but that he needed to remember who it was he really had become and would be.
So, he wanted to kiss Draco; he'd have to wait until the boy was completely asleep. When he was certain Draco was asleep, he carefully removed the hood of his cloak and knelt closer. Moving his face closer, he soon found himself mere centimeters from the Slytherin's lips. Steeling himself, he leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to Draco's.
The kiss didn't last long (it was one-sided after all), and he was afraid of waking Draco so he pulled away quickly. However, when he pulled back, he realized that his lips were tingling. Since when did they tingle? Looking back at Draco, his lips sort of quirked up into a smile: he had enjoyed kissing Draco. It wasn't something that could be explained, but it felt right to kiss him and he certainly didn't regret it. If anything, he wanted to kiss Draco again.
He waited for a bit to make sure that the boy was certainly asleep, and then moved in again, this time kissing him for a slightly longer period of time. Again, he enjoyed every second of it, and found he was addicted to Draco's lips. A part of him told him that this was somehow wrong, but Harry ignored that tiny voice; so he liked kissing his arch nemesis, big deal. He merely smiled at the memory and walked back into the castle, he was looking forward to kissing Draco much more often.
Draco felt weird. He'd felt weird for several weeks now, ever since he started falling asleep in the garden he'd found about three weeks ago.
He had been tired of all of the Slytherins and their petty problems. Really? After everything that had happened, they could still manage to be petty? His own friends, Pansy and Blaise, were the only ones who truly understood how ridiculous and silly the other years were being. Sure, it was very Slytherin of them to be that way, but after the war? After so much loss on both sides?
No, he was sick of it. He didn't want to stay in the Slytherin common rooms anymore, especially when people asked to see his faded Dark Mark. It would forever marr his skin, a reminder of why he would no longer do what others tried to force him to do. His father had tried to force him into joining the Dark Lord, Voldemort himself had expected Draco to follow him and allowed him into his inner circle. Snape expected him to kill Dumbledore, and everyone expected him to be terrible to the boy wonder, Harry Potter.
With the Dark Lord gone, Draco was making his own decisions now. However, it was impossible to get the solace he so longed for in the Slytherin dungeons, and he didn't really have anywhere else to go. The Room of Requirement brought back terrible memories so he couldn't go in there; not to mention that even with the castle rebuilt, it hadn't fully recovered from the assault that the Dark Lord had cast on it.
He eventually found himself wandering around the grounds of Hogwarts until he came to the entrance of a garden he never knew existed before. It was very well kept and he wondered if Filch kept it up. Then he snorted rather unceremoniously at that thought, Filch wouldn't bother with gardening when he could be busting students in the hallways at night. Maybe the house elves? But even then, they were constantly kept busy with things around the castle.
Well, whoever it was, they were doing an excellent job. He hadn't seen such good work since being at Malfoy Manor. After wandering around he came to a grove of fruit trees and sat down at the base of one at random. Closing his eyes, he allowed his thoughts to just meander, and didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he could feel warm rays of sunshine on his cheeks.
Fluttering his eyes open, he stood up and stretched; he had a crick in his neck from sleeping on the ground, but it was oddly enough some of the best and most restful sleep he had gotten since arriving at Hogwarts a month ago. It was so nice in fact, that he continued to sleep there at night.
After the third night, he began feeling like he was being watched. It was kind of disconcerting, especially since he couldn't see or hear anyone, but it felt like eyes were staring at him. He felt it directly in front of him, but there was nothing there except air and grass. He had shrugged it off as his senses and paranoia from the war. However, when he woke up on the sixth morning, he found that the grass directly in front of him had been sat on. It was sort of bent this way and that, and indented slightly, as if someone had sat there for an extended period of time.
Was someone watching him in his sleep? How creepy. He began to wonder who, in the entire castle, would follow him to this spot and watch him for a long time. Well, it wasn't as if he wasn't good looking, but he'd never heard of anything so ridiculous as this.
Going into the library, he looked to see if there were any spells that he could cast that would tell him who had been watching him. Nothing came up in his research until three days later. There was a spell that he could cast, a ward that would hold onto the magical energy signature of whoever was around it, and then if it was cast around whoever it was, they would slightly glow; however, it would only be noticeable to the caster.
During the day, he made his way to the garden and cast the ward so that it would have a chance to really settle during the day. When he came back that night, he was almost too eager to fall asleep, but eventually found that he could wander into the oblivion of dreams.
In the morning he got up and recollected the energy signature into his wand. Once he went into the dining hall with the entire school, he quietly cast the ward and it spread all over the hall. His eyes scanned the hall desperately and when he found the faint glow around none other than Harry Potter, he nearly fainted. Harry? Harry was watching him every night? Why?
These thoughts plagued him all day. He couldn't get Harry out of his head at all. Why was the boy wonder sitting and watching him sleep at night? And how had he managed to accomplish this without being caught once? All that he had left behind was the imprint of where he had been sitting.
Draco had been staying awake longer at night, pretending to be asleep, eyes closed. He could feel Harry's eyes on him, but he never did anything, he just…watched. Well, he just watched until one night at the end of the second week from when this had started.
On this night, Draco had actually heard a slight scuffle of feet on the leaves on the ground announcing the arrival of his voyeur. So, he was invisible? Maybe he had an invisibility cloak. They weren't unheard of, though Draco had never personally seen one. His mind then wandered back to their third year when he swore he had seen Harry's head in the middle of the snow, just floating. He smiled; it suddenly made so much more sense.
When he had closed his eyes and once again pretended to be asleep, he heard movement for the first time, and it took everything in his willpower to not react when he felt Harry's breath mingling with his own steady breaths in and out, mere centimeters from his lips. He could literally feel the heat rolling off of the other boy, feel the soft material of Harry's cloak brush against his own legs. When he felt the feather light brush of lips on his own, which then solidified for a few moments longer, he was stunned. He couldn't have moved if he had wanted to.
Harry pulled away and Draco waited with as steady breaths as he could manage in his state of shock and panic, and then suddenly Harry's lips were against his own again, and this time they stayed longer. He heard the Gryffindor retreat from the garden.
Once he was certain that Harry had left, his eyes snapped open and he put fingertips against his lips. They tingled from the contact with Harry's own and he had to wonder at the feelings that were suddenly beginning to form inside. It wasn't really strange to him to feel fine with kissing a guy; heck, he'd never really had a preference, but mostly it was because he had been far too busy with more important things than to worry about a relationship.
Personally, Draco didn't think that things like gender should get in the way of relationship. If he was gay, then he was gay, whatever.
Because of Harry's reaction, Draco was uncertain whether he would return the next night. Maybe he had freaked out when he found out that he had liked kissing another guy, and not just any guy, but his once arch nemesis. However, much to his surprise and delight, Harry returned night after night for the next week.
Draco was glad that the boy returned to kiss him, but he was getting tired of only light kisses from the Gryffindor, he wanted more. After the first initial kiss, Draco could always feel eyes on him when he wasn't looking, but when he looked, Harry was conspicuously looking anywhere but at him. He didn't want Draco to know about his little fantasy. Well, wouldn't he be in for a surprise. A signature Malfoy smirk crept upon him and he found himself making all sorts of plans for the next few nights of their interlude together…
Harry once again crept up to where Draco was reading a book as he leaned against the tree. He enjoyed watching the boy's eyes scan the pages and then turn them with excellent speed; he hadn't taken Draco for much of a bookworm, but then again, he really didn't know anything about what the blonde did in his off time. The Slytherin sighed as he looked up from his book and at the moon.
Once he seemed to have read enough, Draco bookmarked the page he was on and settled down to sleep. Within a few minutes, his chest was rising and falling with steady breaths. Harry removed the cloak and moved in for the attack. Pressing close, he only hesitated a moment to ensure the boy was asleep, and then pressed his lips to Draco's lips.
Except that suddenly a hand had reached up and snaked around his neck, pressing his lips harder into the blonde's. Draco's eyes opened and he stared at Harry's shocked ones as he coaxed the Gryffindor into responding so that both of their lips were moving.
The kiss wasn't exactly soft as much as it was exploring with some sense of urgency. Both boys seemed to melt into the kiss, and Harry pressed closer to Draco's frame, putting his hands on the ground on either side of the blonde in order to maintain his balance.
When the need for air became too much, they broke apart, taking in gulps of air as green eyes clashed with dark silver orbs, neither breaking contact for one second. Harry was extremely surprised that not only had Draco kissed him, he had continued to kiss him even when he found out who it was that was kissing him. But how had he been awake? Harry had been sure that Draco had been asleep! Maybe he wasn't as observant as usual?
Draco's face slipped into a smirk as he gazed at Harry. "Hello Harry, come for your usual show?"
"How did you know?"
"I figured it out about a week and a half ago," his smirk got even more smirk-ish if that was possible, "You had no idea that I was pretending to sleep for the longest time to see what you would do. And then one night, you kissed me, twice."
"You have been awake this whole time? How did you know it was me though?"
"A simple ward. As you know, each wizard has a magical energy signature that is specific only to them, no matter how similar their magic may seem to someone else. They aren't visible, but if your signature hits a ward, it keeps that energy signature for memory in order to identify it the next time. I merely reversed the spell and found your aura in the great hall once."
"And you didn't stop me? Or make fun of me?"
"Please Harry, give me more credit than that. While I would enjoy teasing you some, I would not be so unwise as to reveal this garden to anyone, nor the fact that I never sleep in the dorms. It would bring up too many questions about me that I would rather not have to answer if they can be avoided."
"Speaking of which, why do you sleep out here all the time?" Harry asked, sitting directly in front of Draco cross-legged. His gaze was focused on Draco; he expected an answer and Draco decided he wouldn't disappoint. After all, if he couldn't talk to the Golden Boy that had been kissing him for a week, who could he talk to?
"I don't really like the Slytherin dungeons anymore. It's awful. It's like the war never happened, like it wasn't just six months ago that the Wizarding world was facing a cataclysm which could throw it into the darkness as much as the light. They talk about the most petty, pathetic things instead of trying to help heal our world. Their prejudices get in the way of their judgment and make them blind."
"I know exactly what you mean," Harry sighed, "that's why I like to get away too. Well actually, I suppose it's different in that regard."
"I suppose I might as well listen to your sob story if you listened to mine," Draco chuckled.
Harry smiled, Draco really wasn't so bad at being civil. "It's just, I know I'm the one that officially defeated Voldemort," he noticed Draco visibly flinch at the name, even if it was just a small twitch, "but I also want to have a normal life. I don't want to walk down the hallway and for people to ask for my autograph. Or for people to want pictures all of the time."
"You mean Creepy Creevey? I completely agree. He'd probably photograph you in the nude if he could get the pictures," Draco mentioned.
"I know, it's awful. Of course, I've always had the attention on me, as you well know, since you always made fun of me for it," he grinned at Draco. "You were sort of right, except that I never wanted it. Regardless, now I have an opportunity to finish out my school career before I get launched into the world that will never let me go. Everyone wants me for some selfish reason. Actually, that's why I started working on this garden a few years back."
"You were the one that made this garden?" Draco asked in awe.
"Well, no, but I did find it and bring it back to life. When I had free time I would come here with Dobby," he was sad when he said the name of the house elf that had given his life for Harry. Draco too, understood Harry's sadness; Dobby had always been a very loyal servant, if annoying at times. "Anyway, I used to work the garden at my aunt and uncle's house so I knew what to do."
"You used to work in the garden?" Draco was surprised. His mother always enjoyed looking at the gardens, and sometimes she would wistfully say she wanted to work in the gardens, but she never did; it was work for the house elves.
"Yeah. Anyway, I didn't want to use magic; working with my hands kept my mind off of whatever had been plaguing me at the time. Whether it was the Triwizard Cup, Sirius's death," at this he choked up but kept going, "or being hated by the whole school our fifth year, it helped to take my mind off of those things."
"So you didn't use any magic at all? And you did all of this? Wow," Draco was truly impressed. He didn't think he could do such a thing even if he tried.
He watched a blush creep over Harry's cheeks," Thanks. I've never shown it to anyone, not even Hermione and Ron."
"So am I intruding in your garden?" Draco cocked an eyebrow at him.
"No! No, not at all; actually I'm really glad that someone can appreciate it. It's supposed to be a safe haven, and obviously that's what you were using it for, just like me. It kind of feels like our own…secret," he thought he sounded totally lame when he uttered that sentence. Apparently, so did Draco, because he laughed.
"That's so cheesy Harry."
Harry hadn't heard Draco really laugh, for real laugh, not chuckle or sneer or anything. He liked it a lot and decided that he would try to get Draco to laugh as often as possible.
A comfortable silence fell on the boys for a small time until Draco spoke up. "So why have you been here the whole time watching me?"
Harry really blushed at that statement before answering, "I'm not really sure. It was…" he seemed embarrassed to say anything, but Draco raised an eyebrow at him and he continued, "On that first initial night about three weeks ago I…I thought you were really attractive."
"You did? And how did you come to that conclusion?"
"Well I suppose I thought you were always rather good looking, but I'd never had the opportunity to really look at you, study your features."
"You sound like a creepy stalker Harry."
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean any harm."
"It's fine, I don't really care at this point."
"Oh…good."
Silence fell over them again until Harry finally had a question. "Why did you kiss me? I mean, you obviously knew that I was kissing you, but I thought you were asleep. But tonight you were the one that continued it."
The Slytherin shrugged, "What can I say? I enjoyed your kisses too," he smirked, "but I was sick and tired of your indecision and cowardice to not do anything else."
"Anything else? What did you expect me to do?"
"I'm not sure, but kissing me lightly for a week certainly wasn't exactly what I thought you'd do. Geez, you're really innocent, aren't you?" he rolled his eyes.
"It's not like I didn't think of other things—" he shut up when he realized he was about to give away something he wasn't ready to admit to anyone.
"Oh? What other things?" Draco smirked as he sort of sat up and crawled over to where Harry was sitting. Harry watched him, riveted and frozen. Draco continued until he had crawled up Harry's body and straddled the boys waist, "More intimate things perhaps?" the Slytherin leaned down so he could put his lips to the Gryffindor's ear. "More sexual in nature?" he nibbled Harry's ear.
Harry couldn't really function right now as all of his attention was on the fact that Draco was sensually nibbling his ear and then working his way down his chin until he was hovering over Harry's lips. He pressed his lips down on Harry's and the boys shared another kiss, but this was more passionate, more urgent, than the last.
Breaking apart for air, Harry could stare in wonder at the pale boy on top of him. This felt more right than anything he had done before, with anyone. It felt more right than Cho and Ginny, and he wasn't really afraid of it anymore. His lips quirked up into a very Malfoy-ish smirk, "Maybe I did think of such things," he pulled the Slytherin's loose tie down to pull the boy with it, "what are you going to do about it?"
Draco's eyebrow rose in interest, where did this Harry come from? Well, wherever it was, he was enjoying it. It was sexy to see Harry so confident like this. "Let me think on it and I'll give you an answer tomorrow night," he got up off of the brunette, who mourned the loss of contact.
Draco held up a hand for Harry to take, "Here, let me help you up."
Harry took the offered hand and as he was being helped up, he found that Draco had put a little extra bit of strength in there so it made Harry unbalanced and he fell into the blonde's open arms. "Well, that's certainly one way of throwing yourself at me," his lips were at Harry's neck. He pulled back, lightly pecked the brunette's lips, and then stepped back and sat down against the tree. "I need sleep, but I'll see you here tomorrow night."
Nodding, Harry looked at Draco one more time, before he turned around and left the garden. Draco smirked as he watched the Gryffindor leave, he was irrevocably attracted to the brunette, and could even see more than just their playfulness coming from this interaction. After all, he wouldn't be a Malfoy if he didn't use this particular event to his advantage even more than he already had.
The next day Harry could hardly keep his eyes to himself. Except that whenever Draco felt his gaze and looked up, Harry didn't look away, he continued to stare in wonder. Draco would smirk and go back to whatever he had been doing.
Hermione had noticed for a few days that Harry had been rather…distracted lately, and she wasn't sure why. It made sense that he would still be upset after the war just six months prior, but as sad as he had been before, he was almost giddy these days. Not for school, that was obvious. However, she had never been more surprised when he had finished all of his homework every single day for the past two weeks. It was unlike him, but then again, if there was somewhere he wanted to go, it made sense.
She had not shared her worries with Ron, who was still distraught from losing George during the war. Not that he wasn't going to be of any help but she didn't want to worry the ginger until she felt she had good reason to worry. He couldn't be in danger, he was one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Maybe it was a girl?
A girl? Harry hadn't shown an interest in any girl since Ginny…but maybe…maybe it was that he was seeing someone. Well, she wouldn't meddle, she'd let things take their course, and hopefully they worked out for the couple.
The next night found Harry eagerly awaiting Draco's arrival. "Wow, didn't know you needed to see me so badly Harry," his voice walked up to where the brunette was waiting.
"I wasn't, I was just—"
Draco put a few fingers to his lips, "Why don't you stop right there before you say something you'll regret later?" he smirked. "There is nothing embarrassing about waiting for someone you're attracted to, I had to wait for you for the past two weeks, didn't I?"
Harry blushed and nodded. "Good, now, sit down."
Once the two boys were seated, Draco with his back to the apple tree and Harry's back to the moon, Draco continued. "I know it seems perhaps a bit silly, but I would like to know more about you. I mean, sure, I know what I've seen and all that jazz, but I hardly know anything about how you grew up. You said that you took care of gardens for your aunt?" he pressed.
"Oh, yeah. Well when my parents died Dumbledore took me to live with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley. They were totally muggle and hated anything to do with magic, so they treated me like the dirt beneath their feet. I had no idea about magic or anything until Hagrid came to get me on my eleventh birthday."
"You didn't know about magic until you were eleven? No wonder you were so clueless sometimes about customs; I just thought that you weren't very intelligent or something."
"Yup."
"So what did they do?"
"Well, I had to do all the cleaning in the house, I had to do all the chores, including cooking breakfast for my relatives, and I lived in a cupboard under the stairs."
"In a cupboard under the stairs? Harry, even house elves get treated better…for the most part," he conceded.
"Really?"
"Oh yes. In fact, I'd like to give your relatives a piece of advice," his eyes narrowed. Harry really couldn't tell if Draco was angry or not, though he seemed sort of upset. How could he possibly be angry for Harry? Draco was in fact quite angry with Harry's relatives. How could they possibly deny the boy something as wonderful as magic and treat him like a house elf? It was insulting and he was going to pay them back one day, just watch if he didn't. He didn't have all of those noble ideals that Gryffindors were known for; he was a Slytherin through and through.
"Anyway, what about you? What about how you grew up?"
Draco looked at Harry, "I grew up well enough. I was never devoid of anything that money could buy, but my parents weren't the most loving. I mean yes, my mother loved me, and deep down I know that my father loved me, but he had a really funny way of showing it. My mother was too afraid to interfere so she didn't, but she helped me afterward."
"Helped you afterward? What did your father do?"
"He used to beat me for certain things. If I didn't get something right, or said something out of turn, stuff like that."
"So you were abused."
Draco shrugged, "I guess so. I'm really quite alright now, and my father will serve his time in Azkaban as he should. Maybe it will help him clear his head and become a better person, but I can't say for sure."
"I'm sorry Draco," Harry looked terribly upset and sad about learning that Draco had been beaten.
The Slytherin merely shrugged, "It's in the past, there's nothing I can do about it now."
Harry moved closer and intertwined their hands and then looked up at him with a smile, "But at least you're not alone anymore."
The blonde smiled back, "Yeah, I guess you're right."
They leaned their foreheads against one another in silence, drinking in the warmth and comfort of the other. It was simple and innocent, but it was somehow more touching than anything else. After a while Draco smirked, how far could he push the brunette before he gave in? He was extremely curious about such a development.
Lifting up his head, he surprised Harry, who looked up as well at the sudden movement. In one fell swoop Draco had claimed Harry's lips for his own. There wasn't even a moment of hesitation for Harry, he responded immediately. As the kiss progressed, Harry began pushing Draco down with a little bit of force. Hmmm, this was a different side of him, just like last night; he was getting dominant, and it was really sexy for Draco.
Once Harry was basically straddling the blonde as they made out, he pulled away only slightly before beginning to trail open mouthed kisses down the Slytherin's jaw and to his neck, where he licked, sucked, and bit in different places eliciting a groan of pleasure from Draco.
Harry pushed aside Draco's robes and began unbuttoning his shirt. While Draco was far from about to object, he thought it was a bit soon for Harry to want such interaction; then again, maybe it wasn't. After all, he was the one to initiate it all in the first place.
Once all of Draco's buttons were undone, Harry began caressing his chest, delicately tracing the scars on the blonde's body, wondering what each one was for. The moment for Harry turned immediately into a more of an exploration of the Slytherin's body, rather than sensual, "Are these my fault? From our sixth year?" he asked, tracing the three long scars across his abdomen. Draco shuddered in pleasure at the soft touches he was receiving.
"Yes."
"I am sorry, really. I never meant to harm you like that, I'd just learned that spell from a book and didn't know what it did. It was created by none other than Snape if you can believe it," he explained.
Draco smiled, "I can believe it. My godfather was very intelligent and crafty after all."
"Do you miss him?"
"A little bit I suppose."
"Me too."
"Really? And why ever would you miss the Potions professor who hated you?"
"He didn't really hate me totally, mostly just my father. But he…he loved my mother, and he was watching out for me the whole time, even though he seemed really mean. He was trying to prepare me for my destiny to face Voldemort," Harry replied.
"I didn't know that he'd been in love with your mum, nor about the watching out for you," Draco seemed very surprised to hear this news. He had always genuinely believed that his godfather had hated the Golden Boy in Gryffindor. Maybe he knew less about his godfather than he had originally believed.
"Yeah…anyway," Harry shook his head and continued his exploration of Draco's body. "What's this scar for?" he noticed a little round shaped scar on one hip.
"I was playing around with magic one day and my father got angry at me since I turned his favorite pair of shoes into toads," he grinned, "It was all good fun but he wouldn't have any of it, so he used some sort of flame spell to teach me a lesson about how dangerous magic could be and accidentally ended up burning me," he shrugged.
"That sounds really painful."
"I was a kid," Draco shrugged.
Harry continued to ask about every single little scar he could find and he was driving Draco mad, both with the fact that he was totally aroused by now with Harry's hands all over his body, and two with the fact that he seemed like he had to know the story of every single line or dimple on his body.
Finally his eyes settled on Draco's dark mark. The blonde was deeply ashamed of ever having taken it during the war, but it was permanent and could not be take back. It was a permanent blemish on his skin and one he absolutely hated, and was sure that Harry would as well. Maybe that's why it came as such a shock when he felt butterfly kisses along the dark mark and he looked at Harry with wonder. "Why are you doing that? It's disgusting," he sneered.
"I don't think so. It's just another part of you," Harry replied, looking up at the blonde boy with warmth and understanding, "I know you took it because of your family; I also know that you were unable to say no because you would probably be killed. We all do things we sometimes regret, but that should not dictate our views of ourselves…trust me, I know."
"I still can't believe you find it anything except disgusting."
"It's beautiful," Harry sighed, lightly tracing it with his fingers and then rubbing his thumb over it in a caress. Draco was melting at the acceptance of such a sin, such a mistake in his life.
"Alright enough! My turn," he grinned, pushing the brunette down and disrobing him of his shirt quickly. He sucked in a breath, Harry's skin was tanned and beautiful. Even with the scars, he was still perfect. Harry's cheeks heated with Draco's intense stare as his hands began wandering all around Harry's body. Draco was going to know every dip and curve of the brunette's body by the end of the night.