In the months following the last year they were at Hogwarts, Draco had come crawling to Hermione. At first the Order assumed it was a trap, but quickly the Order learned of Draco's refusal to kill unfeelingly like his father, perhaps even incapable. Narcissa had been murdered because of Draco's betrayal and Draco was unable to work for the Order, every Death Eater was ordered to bring Draco to his knees. In these months Harry Potter had been going back and forth the House of Black, giving reports of his progress, his appearance had changed somewhat drastically after Hogwarts, he became more scarred, his hair grew without limits and his eyes were warmer than when he was at school, at least to Draco they seemed more inviting. However, much more lonely.
One particular gloomy afternoon, after the death of a newly appointed Order member, Harry sat in the Kitchen with Draco across from him. Harry couldn't help feeling a terrible sympathy for the boy that skulked around the house, much like a grand bird that had become unable to fly. He watched the blonde haired prince slumped over the Daily Prophet, noticing Draco's hair was messier than usual, as if it was limp and had given up it's desire to look perfect. Harry tilted his head slightly, Draco seemed to sense that he was being watched and lifted his head slightly from his paper. The two still didn't really get along, a hatred of 6 years doesn't die within a few mere weeks. Draco made a point of staying away from Harry whilst living in his late Godfather's house.
Draco stood, readying himself to leave for his room, which still smelt like doxycide and mould.
Harry hadn't realised he had been spotted observing the boy. He stumbled quickly with his words "Have you given up on your appearance lately or is it just too hard to manage?" Harry instantly regretted saying it, the words weren't meant to sound as harsh as they had, but it was difficult breaking old habits.
"Yeah" Draco said running his hands through his hair, a defeated look on his face, not even retorting to the ferocious tone Harry had used "But it still looks better than yours" Draco's voice was maybe a little playful? Harry was taken aback for a moment, he'd never heard Malfoy talk in anything other than a dead drawl or a sarcastic sneer. Draco sat back down, looking across the table to Harry, a serious expression on his face.
"I want to show you something Draco" Harry said, deciding on the spot he'd like to give Draco something that might make his stay in the desolate house more enjoyable. Draco didn't answer but when Harry started to up the stairs Draco followed. They were outside Sirius's old room, Harry unlocked it and coughed when the dust sought to attack the intruders, Draco waited until Harry stepped into the room first. "I want you to have it" He said, avoiding the surprise across Draco's pale skinned face.
"I...I...Can't" Draco insisted, he really couldn't. What had he done to deserve this? He brought about Dumbledore's death, he'd come running for help when things got scary, he wasn't of any real use to the Order and all he'd done to Harry the entire time they'd known each other, was cruelly tease and loathe the boy, with but one ridiculous reason.
"I can't stand you haunting these hallways like he had, with even less freedom. At least in this room you have a rather large balcony in which you may sit and breathe air that isn't infested with putrid smells of decaying wood." Harry said bluntly, he'd never really liked the house, it felt cramped and like it held so much anger the walls were edging in, attempting to smother anyone who dare fill it's halls.
Draco stood dumfounded "I...I..." He stuttered again, uncharacteristically.
"You don't have to thank me, just move your stuff up here and enjoy it. I'd like to see at least one person a little more comfortable in these times where people are living their lives in corners and barely breathing." Harry smiled faintly, like a ghost of a smile that used to be there, as if at some time, he would have said it bitterly and laughed. But no longer was his humour capable of smothering the death screams he'd heard, or shattering the images of the tortured and dying.
Harry turned slightly his hair flicking from the side of his face, his watery green eyes caught the light of the lamp in the hallway and they seemed to pierce Draco through his chest.
Before Harry could react Draco was upon him, his body pushing into Harry's against the doorframe, their lips brushing against each other. There was a short pause, in which Draco caught Harry's eye, they were half closed almost in enjoyment. This spurred Draco on, he kissed more roughly now, sliding his hand up to Harry's neck and caressing the skin, the boy shivered in delight a small moan escaped the lips and before either knew it they had made their way across the room, shedding clothes as they went. A fleeting thought passed through Harry 'Impossible' but at that moment Draco had nibbled Harry's lip slightly making the situation more than possible, but in a twisted logic almost even probable. Harry couldn't restrain himself "Why" he murmured. Draco broke contact for a mere second, and in that second Harry missed the touch of his flesh immensely "Because we're lonely" he stated returning to his task, he rolled over so that he was above the boy. Draco's hair trailing across Harry's torso as he moved lower and lower.
The delicate embrace had such warmth, it spread through both of them, swallowing them in it's fiery grasp. The desire for flesh was irresistible, biting, scratching, pressing harder than necessary but they needed more. Within the sweat soaked bed, the bitter kisses, salty flesh and drowning screams, memories were lost. Lives, death howls, horrifying images, battle fears and suicide missions were all forgotten. Even the loneliness dragged its way into the depths of the soul for the briefest of moments which last forever.
As they re-dressed and looked awkwardly at each other, it was understood that these moments were the only times in which all the terrors of the darkness and the impossible serenity of the quiet before the storm were left behind. Where the two were able to bite back the ghosts of the dead and the chill of the living.