Birthday Wishes

Summary: Draco didn't expect the one wish that he longed for would actually come true.

Warning: Fluff maybe?

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine.

Author's Note: This was written for Draco's birthday which I got a silly block at how to wrap it up nearing the end and so it had come out way later than it really should be. *Hexed by Draco and falls*

It was long past curfew. Nearly midnight, in fact. Despite the lateness, Draco was wandering in the corridors not far from the dungeons. Only a few more moments more then it would be his birthday when the time strikes midnight and that would be the time that he'd finally come to age. And he couldn't sleep. He's got so much on his mind that it simply wouldn't allow him to drift off after he'd laid in his bed for at least a full hour. So he decided to come out for a walk, Filch be damned. He needed fresh air, needed a place alone to think, to sort out his confusing muse.

Draco continued aimlessly in the dark corridors, he didn't even bother to light his wand with a lumos. It was quite cold despite early June when it was supposed to be warm-weathered and Draco wrapped his robes and cloak more firmly around his body to shield away the chill. It was not until he nearly bumped into a suit of armour, too deep in thoughts, that he realized he had walked out of the Slytherin dungeons area and passed the Great Hall, heading towards the Gryffindor tower.

Gryffindor.

As if his feet were acting on their own, they had taken him to the direction of where he had wanted to be for the past few months but never dared to step up on it. Hell, he even had spent the first month denying his own feelings; its suddenness and bizarreness were so shocking that even he himself found it hard to believe. But it seemed as though his mind was its own master as well, forcing him to be convinced of the fact that was as clear and hard as a crystal that left him no more space for his denial.

He, Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Ice Prince as he was called by his housemates, son of the Death Eater who was the Dark Lord's right-hand man, fell for someone who he should not have fallen for in a lifetime, not even in the reincarnation if there was one. But he did, and oh how he did, so hard.

It was embarrassing even for him to admit it, but he knew he had no other choice because the truth had settled itself so firmly onto the bottom of his heart that he found denying it any further only made him ached more, in more than one way.

Draco Mafoy had fallen for the impossible candidate - or so he had thought, since he had made this happen – Harry Potter.

Harry bloody Potter.

Harry bloody gorgeous Potter.

He gritted his teeth, whether it was against the sheer coldness or that the fact was once again so clear at the front of his mind, he wasn't even sure himself. And now, with his seventeenth birthday only a few more minutes away, he was so desperate for his only wish this year which he was not sure that he could have it, or sure that he couldn't have it, that the ache and longing in his heart was too overwhelming for him to fall asleep.

Draco had stopped walking altogether, choosing to sit down on the cold floor of the corridor just outside of the Gryffindor tower and think. It wasn't that there's any more to think about, but now that he had once again brought the issue, or really, his object of desire back upfront onto his mind's surface, he had to think.

The war has ended. The extermination of Voldemort had brought back the little peace that the Wizarding World had missed for the entirety of seven years. After the aftermaths slowly died down, Hogwarts re-opened and invited the seventh year students who were supposed to attend for the last year back to the school and study in for an 'Eighth Year'.

Now, with the school nearly finishing, Draco could not help but long for his deepest secret, or wish, to come true.

How he had fallen for the Survivor of the Wizarding World, to be honest, Draco doesn't know the answer. He was only grateful that Potter saved him, saved his family in fact, for him to be able to return to Hogwarts when he had the chance. Exactly when had this gratitude morphed into something deeper, something that he never had expected to consume him alive from the insides, he really don't know.

It was as though the change was processing in a pace so slow that Draco hasn't even noticed it, but it too was as if the alternation was so swift that he had no time to react and when he finally realized it, it has already completed its stages of transformation.

And he was left in its mercy, struggling to fight it but in the end was obliged to give in and accept the truth it conveyed.

Draco curled up his legs and hugged his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them even as he closed his eyes against the sturdy waves of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He tilted his head back after a moment, the back of his head bumping onto the wall behind him lightly with a soft thud. His eyes were still closed and he furrowed the space in between his eyebrows as though he was having a bad dream. The blond tucked his cloak more securely around his body and let out a long breath through his nose, his bangs falling down to cup his face and over his still closed eyes.

Draco let out a sigh; his chest huffed as he took a slow breath in before he murmured to himself, or no one, softly, yet the voice loud in the contrary of the still corridor. "Potter… Harry. How I want you to be mine. Mine to hold, to kiss, to love, to cherish." He opened his eyes and stared up at the high ceiling above, unblinkingly for a while, and then continued on. "Merlin, if you could hear me, grant me my wish. Grant me my wish and I'll never ask for anything else for the rest of my life."

Then he closed his eyes once again, and just sat there, hugging his knees more close to him and gave yet another sigh before he fell silent.

Harry felt oddly anxious tonight even though he doesn't have a reason to or don't know the reason that made him feel this way, and it had stole his sleep away when he attempted to go off to dreamland after a fierce and tiring chess game with Ron. So he, as usual when he felt that he cannot go to sleep, had grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and sneaked out of the tower to feed himself some nightly fresh air, in hopes of ridding this unknown anxiety and then head back to try and sleep again.

He was just out of the tower completely and was heading towards the school grounds, wanting to go and sit at the Quidditch pitch as he normally does when he was in the mood when he heard footsteps coming his way. The first thought that came into Harry's mind even as the sound of soft steps clicking against the stone ground drawing nearer was Filch. So he turned immediately and backed into a dark corner in the walls at the turning point of the long corridor leading out of the tower's area, and waited with bated breath for the footsteps to turn away from him.

To his unfortunate, the steps did not walk away but halted to a sudden stop somewhere in the passage way, and Harry's heart was speeding up as adrenaline boosted up in his body, adding to his yet-to-fade anxiety and making his head spin with the dizziness that it caused. He waited for another moment and when there was no more footsteps clicking away as it seemed that the person had decided to stay where he was, Harry came out from the dark corner as softly as he can and rounded the corner of the corridor, wrapped in the safety of his Invisibility Cloak.

What, or who, he saw was something that he had least expected to see in this time of the night, in this area of the castle.

The position of that person's bowed head revealed his trademark platinum blond hair to Harry's line of sight. Malfoy.

What's he doing here? And for that matter, at this time of the night when it was way past curfew?

Harry went a bit closer to the boy and found a place on the wall for him to lean on comfortably while he decided to see what the blond was up to. The dark haired boy watched as the other student sat there next to the suit of armour, wrapping his arms around his shins and shifted in his place as he tilted back his head to lean against the wall behind him. The angle from where Harry was standing allowed him to take in the other boy's features under the pale moonlight that illuminated his face.

He looked exhausted, was the first impression that Harry came into conclusion of after his initial proper take in of the blond boy's looks since they had come back to Hogwarts. And he's as pale as ever, the moonlight that shone onto his face had done nothing to help with the paleness that the boy seemed to have, if not protruded it. His eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes as if he was having an unpleasant dream or thinking about something that bothered him. But all these did not do a thing to falter the perfection that he seemed to represent as always.

Yes, Harry had always thought that Draco Malfoy was equal to perfection. That he was something that was the entire opposite of him and something that he wished he would have been, despite his poor foresights at making choices and his attitude in the past seven years that they had knew each other of.

Harry was not willing to acknowledge that after what and all he had went through last year – the horcrux hunting, preparing for the inevitable battle and saving countless lives and unable to save even more lives – had he realized how childish he had acted in the interactions and relationship that he had shared with this Draco Malfoy. Harry knew he is not the same Harry as people still think that he was, nor is Malfoy the same arrogant snob who would only run for his father at the slightest sight of threat and trouble.

People changed. Everyone had changed somewhat. They have changed. He was not sure how much they have actually changed, but he knew that they were not the same boys all those years ago. Not anymore.

Ever since Hogwarts had re-opened itself and operating as its old self again, Harry was determined to give everyone and anyone who had survived the war equally under the efforts that they have all put together one more chance to be who they are. One chance that those had deserved, to be whom they never had the chance or never dared to be before everything ended.

But the rebuilt of everything – physical buildings and ruins, psychological minds and thoughts, all those accumulated emotions – took much longer than Harry had anticipated. And when he finally had the time for himself to proceed with what he liked and wanted to do, the new school year was already coming to an end and Harry was struck in the belated sorrow that he would be saying goodbye to the place that he really called home and thus occupied his every thought.

In fact, it was only now when he saw Malfoy here that he remembered the decision that he made long ago. Harry took a deep breath and was already swinging his legs forward when a voice – which he realized to be Malfoy's after a split second of start – halted him in mid-step.

"Potter… Harry." The sound of his name being called was the least he was expecting Malfoy to give as he gazed towards the other boy and found that he was still in the same position as before. Harry slowly set his foot back onto the ground and listened on for another moment, wondering why had the blond called his name when the next sentence that came out from those nude-coloured lips – must be from the cold, Harry thought – rendered him in a shock that Harry suspected even a lightning in a thunderstorm won't be as effective.

"How I want you to be mine. Mine to hold, to kiss, to love, to cherish."

And all Harry could do was stare at the boy sitting on the cold floor, looking on unseeingly as the blond opened his eyes and in turn stared at the ceiling above them. Before Harry could snap back into focus he thought that he heard Malfoy uttered once again with something about granting his wish.

Still immersed in the aftermaths of his shock, which had somehow turned into an incredibility, Harry took a step back subconsciously and stepped on the hem of his cloak, which resulted in his slipping of foot and banging the back of his head onto the wall that he was leaning on with a loud thump, the noise echoing in the already silent corridor and also undoubtedly gained the other boy's attention.

Harry reached a hand to the injured place at the back of his head and mouthing a soundless 'ow' even as he saw Malfoy jerked his head up from its tilted position and snapped over his way in a matter of seconds, his mouth opening and called out in a normal level of speaking voice but otherwise very loud in their current circumstance.

"Who's there?"

Harry was busy rubbing the slight lump at the back of his head and hissing softly as his touch caused slight pain which made him unable to give an answer or reveal himself in time as the blond obviously hoped for. This alerted Malfoy even more and he sat up fully this time, his tone demanding as he spoke once again.

"Show yourself!" His voice was getting louder too.

In fear of Malfoy's half-shoutings, which would bound to get even louder as time stretches, would attract the teachers who were patrolling the grounds, particularly Filch, Harry took his hand that was covering the lump away from his injury and closed the distance between the two of them before his fingers closed on the fabric of his cloak and yanked it off of him.

He was standing about two steps away from where Malfoy sat, and Harry would find the other boy's wide-eyed expression when he revealed himself laughable if it was not for the situation they were in, and the words that he had heard just then still playing and repeating itself in his head.

Harry watched as Malfoy blinked at him for a few times, and then lowered his gaze to the cloth he was now holding in the crook of his arm. The Gryffindor looked down at it following the Slytherin's gaze and lifted his head up again, at the same time in attempt to try and find something to say, but the blond was faster than him.

"So that's how you've managed to escape detentions from breaking rules, Potter. An Invisibility Cloak. Impressive." The Slytherin drawled.

Harry closed his slightly opened mouth and shrugged, closing the steps that still parted them and chose to sit beside the blond.

Malfoy turned and scowled at him in disapproval, though his eyes held no hostile that was visible there all these years before. Harry smiled at him in response and flipped his cloak inside-out, spreading it out before he covered himself with it and snuggled a little into it.

He huffed out a breath, the white mists of air visible in the chill, and then leaned back against the wall just like Malfoy had previously occupied with, and asked. "What are you doing out here this late?"

The Slytherin glanced at him from the corner of his eyes as he turned his head back to stare ahead of him, before answering, "I could ask you the same. Can't sleep." He said simply.

Harry nodded. "Me too."

Then silence followed, each not knowing what else to say to each other as the short greetings exchange had ended like it would. Both of them all stared out to the school ground in front of them and somehow enjoying this civil silence between them.

Draco was not as unperturbed as he may look from the outside, which was understandable. How could he, when his person of desire, his one wish for his soon coming birthday which would announce him as an adult was sitting right next to him. He was close enough that Draco could swear he could smell his musky scent, and the warmth radiating from him sending goosebumps on Draco's arms. He can't help but shivered a little from that.

Then something struck him.

How long had he been there? Had he heard what he said before? How much had he heard?

Draco couldn't stop himself from hoping that Harry had indeed heard his words, but on the other hand he also hoped that he hasn't heard a thing because it might all just ruin his chances to make amends to him and possibly pursue him.

But then again, what could have gone worse? Sure, they were probably on civil terms now according from Harry's actions right this moment – sitting beside him and all – but it wasn't as though they were friends. Just two classmates who speak civilly to each other and who exchange a bit of friendly conversations at times.

It wouldn't go worse, if not heading back to the previous old grudges that they had shared.

He could at least try.

"It's my birthday tomorrow." Draco broke the silence finally.

He felt Harry turned to look at him, and he turned as well to see the expression on the Gryffindor's face. Harry was staring at him, those bright emerald eyes of his were so captivating in their unmoving gaze that Draco found himself drowning in those pools of green.

Then he saw Harry smiled, the corner of his lips tucking upwards and a single dimple appeared on his left cheek. Draco heard him say, "Well then, happy birthday to you."

Draco nodded and smile in return, murmuring a soft 'thanks' and then turned to look ahead of him again. This time he continued on, "but I don't think I would get my wish to come true this year. I stayed up thinking about it, and the more I think of it the more awake I found myself to be." He paused, glancing at Harry and then up in the direction of the Gryffindor tower. "And then I found myself out here."

Harry was reminded of what he heard from the blond while he was still hidden and finds himself suddenly unable to respond, his throat dry and he was abruptly aware that he was staring at Malfoy's pale neck which was exposed from the gesture of his turned head and those blond curls falling to cup his face, leaving that spot of skin bare. Harry swallowed with some difficulties that he cannot even comprehend himself as he blinked and looked away, what was said lastly taking over his thoughts once again.

Malfoy had wished for him. Wished for Harry Potter. And he thought he couldn't have him and that it won't come true. And even as Harry was wondering since when had Malfoy had started to have feelings for him, or so he had assumed from his speeches, he was suddenly not so sure about the way he sees Malfoy, too.

Was it really pity and that deserving thing he always talked about whenever someone asked him about letting former Death Eaters back and all? Harry was sure it was those things when he initially thought about it. But now, Malfoy's words had left him with no other choice but to rethink over his deepest wonder, buried so deep that he didn't even know that it existed or that he knew but just chose to ignore and forget it.

He remembered the year when he 'followed' Malfoy like an obsessed stalker and it was so obvious that even Hermione had pointed it out to him, but to which he denied then. He remembered the time when the three of them were caught captives and brought to the Malfoy Manor where Malfoy refused to identify him. He remembered later when in the Room of Requirement when he had asked Malfoy, demanding to know why he hasn't said anything when he clearly knew it was him and the Slytherin refused to answer him, too. He remembered the Fiendfyre later on in the same room and when he had escaped to safety with Ron and Hermione he still had insisted to come back and save the blond from the seemingly inescapable tragedy back then.

He had refused to let the boy die, he cannot stand his death if it was to happen, and he knew that. Harry had known that fact all along and it was his act on instinct that led him into saving Draco Malfoy.

Harry could not ignore, nor could he deny, anymore, of the fact that his feelings toward this certain Slytherin was not as simple as he once thought it was.

He wouldn't say it was love. Because that's just ridiculous. But it surely had skipped the stage of friendliness and developed into something more all by its own without him even noticing. Until he saw him and heard him, right this moment.

Oh Merlin, he was attracted to Malfoy.

Harry turned his gaze to look at the Slytherin beside him once more and was startled to find that Malfoy was staring at him as well. It seemed that the blond was drawn in the silence between them and was just the same as him, by the look in his eyes, wandered deep into his own thoughts, too.

Speaking of his eyes… Harry shifted his gaze from looking at Malfoy's face in general to solely gazing into his eyes. The Slytheirn seemed to have noticed his change of focus and he too raised his eyes and the both of them found themselves looking into each other's equally slightly dazed orbs.

The green-eyed boy found himself drowning in those stormy slate-gray eyes as they stared back at him with the same steadfastness that he was sure he was using now as well. Harry was intrigued by Draco's silvery gaze looking directly at him, without any hidden emotions, just plain and simple, clear with the sincerity he saw in them and a flick of longing which he wasn't sure if he was seeing things or it really was there.

The boys continued to stare at each other for another moment before Harry lowered his gaze and it locked on to those pink pouty lips of the boy before him, the bottom lip lightly sucked in and on from within his mouth, and Harry couldn't help but let his eyes linger on it.

Then, he was leaning in towards the blond Slytherin, his line of vision still pinned onto those full lips and Malfoy was beginning to frown a little – not that Harry had saw it – and before he knew it, his lips were pressed softly but firmly against the other's, their nose bumping into each other in the slightest of a brush.

Harry closed his eyes in content.

When Draco was gradually coming back to himself and knocking out of his unprepared bemusement, he was abruptly made aware of Harry's shifted gaze and lowered eyelids. Before he could comprehend the situation or say something to break the silence again, his eyebrows coming together in thought and bewilderment when Harry starts to lean in and all of a sudden something soft and warm was pressed onto his mouth.

Draco's eyes widened in contrast to the Gryffindor's closed ones as his mind came fully back into awareness at the realization of the other boy kissing him.

What - ?

The strained thought that came into his head was strangled to its end even before he could manage to actually know what he was about to think of and Draco began to move his lips against the other, luring the other pair of softness into engagement and response. His arms disentangled from his knees and came to wrap around the other boy's chest, pulling him close.

Those lips that had initiated this intimacy parted slightly and gave out a quiet startled cry as the owner felt movement against them. The dark haired boy had not been expecting to be hugged and as a result of the action he was sent sprawled forwards, half leaning onto Draco's lap on his sides and his arms shot out to grab onto the blond's shoulders in order to balance himself, his cloak slid to the ground, their lips involving in a fierce battle as time slowly lengthened.

The kiss became heated as Harry starting to respond to Draco's caress. He instinctively parted his lips more open as Draco licked at them, swiping his tongue over the Gryffindor's bottom lip ever-so-lightly that sent shivers down his spine and Harry couldn't help but tremble in the blond's arms. Draco took the chance of Harry's temporary weakened defence and thrust his lingering tongue determinedly into that warm cavern of his Gryffindor's.

The first touch of their slippery but hot tongues made the two of them moaned simultaneously. Harry's arms came to intertwine behind Draco's neck and he shifted to sit up a little and lean into the other body more comfortably, losing himself in the kiss. Draco's hands also wandering from Harry's back to rest at the boy's waist, tightening his hold on him as the other moved closer.

It was when the need of air became unbearable that Draco regrettably pulled away. He didn't let go of his hold, though. He rested his forehead against the Survivor's, his breaths short pants from the result of the much impassioned kiss they had shared.

Harry's eyes were still closed as he tried to regain his breathing, his cheeks flushed. The boy calmed down his breath and looked into the Slytherin's slate gray eyes yet again and realized that they were filled with obvious want and something else that was so tender that he shivered involuntarily under its intensity.

Draco was the one to speak up first, breathlessly calling out the name of the Gryffindor in his arms.

"Harry."

The breath that followed the sound brushed over the oversensitive kiss-swollen lips of the other who gave another slight tremble as the sensation swept over him.

Draco licked his own lips and met the Gryffindor's eyes, looking into those brilliant greens which seemed to sparkle even brighter than ever before, and Draco's own eyes couldn't help but glinted in return. He smiled softly, and asked, "Harry, could I take this as a sign that you feel the same way as I do?"

Harry pulled his head away from Draco at the question, though not in an abruptness that he somehow knew would make Draco take the reaction in a bad way. He searched the blond's face as he thought it over in his head, and finally lowered his head back down to rest at its previous spot, and answered.

"I don't know how strong you seem to feel about me and to be honest I've only just figured it out partially tonight, when I heard your little whisper." Draco cocked an eyebrow at that. "But yes, I do feel something that is more than just being friends – or just civility because I can't say we were really friends to begin with – about you." Harry finished and smiled at the blond.

"You heard me?" Draco asked, his voice shook a little from the unexpected revelation.

"Yeah, I heard. I know your wish, I overheard. Sorry. And then I thought, well, maybe you could have it come true after all." Harry smiled at him, and then leaned in again to lightly peck at Draco's lips.

Harry pulled away only to find Draco staring intently at him, the emotions which were clearly surging under the internal currents in those pale gray eyes, and Harry couldn't help but shiver under such gaze. No one has ever looked at him like this, and he was pleasantly drowning into it deeper and deeper until he had sunk to the very bottom of that gray ocean.

Draco seemed to opt that he'd still keep his silence while he continued to just gazing into Harry's face, and so Harry chose to break the silence this time. There were a few things that he felt the need to say it out aloud.

Unfortunately, just as Harry opened his mouth to confess, Draco was quicker than him. Again. The blond uttered another question, his voice barely above a whisper and was somewhat shaking.

"So… does this mean, that you'll be mine?" The Slytherin's gaze never shifted.

Harry caught his breath in a choke as he had not anticipated that Draco would ask such a question and he steadied himself with one deep breath and continued with what he had wanted to say before Draco interrupted.

Harry had thought it might be best if he moved to sit beside Draco instead of staying in his lap to actually explain his confession, but Draco seemed reluctant in letting him go so Harry gave up on the notion in the end, opting to go on with it.

"Draco," he called the blond's first name tentatively, and the emotions swirling in Draco's eyes shifted to a surprised delight that made Harry wanting to chuckle. He brushed the back of his hand over Draco's cheek, "I don't know if my feelings toward you are as deep as your feelings for me. But there is one thing that I am sure of, that I do feel something about you. And … I am willing to try it out with you and see where it leads us to." He then smiled shyly up to Draco who was staring at him dazedly, a smile breaking out on his lips as well.

Draco hugged Harry tightly for a short while, causing the boy to slip on his lap and crush into his chest from the force. The blond nuzzled his nose in the crook of Harry's neck, coolness against warmth, creating a shiver crawling down Harry's spine as they touched.

Draco pulled away and looked into those emerald jewels that were Harry's eyes, and said sincerely. "Thank you. You don't know how much that means to me." And then he leaned in to press another kiss onto those lips that before tonight he never dared to hope could be kissed by him.

Their lips came together just as a distant sound of clock striking the hour rang, indicating the beginning of a new day and the start of Draco's birthday.

The two pulled away slowly as the first three rings of the clock faded into the cool night and just settled to smile at each other. Harry came to his feet and picked up his cloak before extending a hand to Draco to pull him up. Draco took a firm hold of the hand and didn't let go even after he stood.

"Happy Birthday, Draco."

END

A/N: I am still not really satisfied with the ending but it will have to do or else I'll be writing too much and it would be never be published. To be honest I felt myself being a little bit off-track in the second half of the story but after I proofread it I felt that it was quite all right and ceased to make any further corrections.

I hope it was satisfactory to you all. Drop in a feedback if you would! I'll be grateful.