Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of these characters.
Summary: Post OotP. Voldemort is growing stronger, making Dumbledore think it is no longer safe for Harry at Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy is not happy about that.
Don't like it, don't read it. Other wise, enjoy. =-D
I re-posted this story also because of some jerk that decided my story wasn't good enough for him/ or her. My friend helped me to make it better but you know what whoever flamed me and not my story on the last form of this story can go stick there head up there arse and sniff. Like I said don't like it don't read it. And don't dare flame me again Mr. Jerk faced butt hole snuffer. Ty.
ps:) sorry this chapter is so short, but the next one will be longer i promise.
And Pss:) Thanks go to serpentsattire for all her help during the making of this story. She has surely helped a whole bunches, with out her i don't think this story would actually be here right now. Ty Ty S.A. and make sure to check out her story Children of Slytherin it's really good.
Chapter One
The North Tower was always quiet, so it was a good place to go and think, something Harry Potter was grateful for. Here, he did not have to deal with Ron and Hermione asking if he still felt guilty about Sirius' death, or the endless chatter of younger students who were blissfully unaware of the happenings of last year. Here, he was aloud to think in peace, and grieve for Sirius alone.
A single tear trickled down his cheek at the thought of his godfather. Though he had only known the man for two years, Sirius was the closest person he had to a father. Knowing that the only reason the ex-con had been in the Department of Mysteries in the first place was to save him tore at Harry's soul, and nothing anyone said to him could take that pain away. This scar was to deep to ever be erased.
A quiet sob jerked Harry from his miserable thoughts, and he turned his head in the direction of the sound.
"Who's there?" he asked warily, his hand already reaching for his wand. The crying stopped abruptly, and after a few moments, he received a scratchy reply.
"Potter?" Harry started. Out of all the people he thought it to be, never in his wildest dreams would he have thought it to be him.
"Malfoy?" he asked incredulously. "Where-oh bloody hell, where did it go to," he muttered, withdrawing his wand from the pocket of his robe. "Lumos"
The sight that greeted him was not one he had expected. The normally aristocratic, snobbish Draco Malfoy, Ice Prince of Slytherin, was sitting on the cold stone floor, his robe pooled around him, glaring weakly at him with slightly red eyes. The look lost what little effect it had as tears began to build up behind the blonde's eyelids.
"What do you want, Potter?" he asked tiredly, pulling his knees to his chest. Harry wanted desperately to tell him that it was none of his business, or to just scoff at him and walk away, but Malfoy intrigued him at the moment, and the words flew out of his mouth before he had time to think about them.
"Why are you crying?" he asked. Malfoy looked up, surprised at his bluntness. Gryffindors were known for tip-toeing around the subject, but here was Potter, using absolutely no tact and just diving head-first into the problem, hoping for the best. But, then again, Harry Potter was always different, and much to his surprise, he found it oddly refreshing. He looked down and twiddled with his robes as thoughts of the past summer flew through his head, causing a solitary tear to make its path down his porcelain cheek, which Harry had the sudden urge to wipe away.
"Part of me," said Draco after a moment, "wants to kill you. But the other part…the other part wants to thank you on bended knee. Having my father placed in Azkaban tarnished the Malfoy name, and since you were the one who put him there, I guess you could say it hurts a bit. You of all people Harry, you!" Draco's voice faded as more tears tracked down his face.
Harry sat on the hard floor next to Draco and took a moment to stare into his lost eyes. Harry's grief had finally caught up to him and his tears rolled freely down his face. His face flushed a pink color, why was he letting this brat see him openly cry? Then a thought came to him, this brat was crying also. And even though Draco still looked like a wreck from crying, his beauty shown through.
Draco reached a small, pale hand up and wiped away the fresh tears running down Harry's face. Caught in the moment, Harry bent down and kissed Draco's soft, rose pink lips. To his surprise, Draco did not resist, instead deepening the kiss, and the two tongues clashed and weaved together in an enticing erotic dance, the kiss finally making them part for the growing need of air. The two stared at each other for a moment, goofy smiles etched onto their faces. Draco pulled Harry to his chest, clutching him tightly as the Gryffindor buried his head into Draco's neck.
"This is going to be a long year." He finally whispered.