Author: M. R. Potter
Disclaimer: I own nothing, save for the plot and the wishful thinking behind it.
"Does this make me look fat?"
Harry turned his head to see Ron looking at himself in the full-length mirror, checking his costume. He was dressed as a chimney sweep, with all its dull neutrals. It made Ron's hair come out even more, so no, he didn't look fat. He just looked like an aberration in the color spectrum.
"You look fine Ron, stop fussing," Harry admonished, adjusting the belt on his own costume. He was dressed as a cavalier, complete with the high-top baggy boots. He felt that a moustache would be too much, so he settled for completing his look with a big and feathered hat. His thoughts however, were only half on his costume because the other half was on tonight's agenda.
His eyes flicked to the mantel and rested on the blood red rose on top. It had a black ribbon tied around its stem, and once again his mind ran through his plans for the evening.
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Hogwarts was throwing a masquerade ball to commemorate All Hallows Eve. Unmasking would be at midnight, and prizes would be given out for the best costume. It was the perfect stage for this most crucial scene of letting a certain someone know how he felt about him. It would probably be the closest encounter he would ever get.
"I don't see you fussing Harry. Feeling confident?" Ron asked, turning once more to check his costume. Harry tossed his shoulder in nonchalance, and then picked up the rose. "Maybe more confident than I should be feeling."
Christmas could not even compare with the way the Great Hall looked right now. It was elegantly decorated, in the manner so familiar to the medieval period. Jewel-colored gowns swirled out of every corner of the room, with the occasional spot of black and grey accenting these patches of color.
It was a crowd cloaked in mystery; everyone in it was a stranger all over again. The person standing next to you could very well be your best friend but you wouldn't even recognize him.
It didn't throw Harry off though. He stood at the top of the stairs watching for a certain blond. "Harry, are you coming? Hermione said she was going to get drinks with us," Ron said, prodding his friend's side.
"In a while Ron. There's something I want do first," he quietly answered. "You're acting really weird mate, what's wrong?" Ron asked, finally fed up with the way his friend was behaving. "Nothing's wrong yet. But I'll let you know what happens," Harry blandly replied, still not looking at Ron.
"You're starting to freak me out. I'll see you later," Ron said, slapping Harry on the arm and walking away.
Harry waited for Ron to leave before he started walking through the crowd, looking for any hint of a blond with steely grey eyes. No thought of looking for faces tonight, he'd have to rely on the magnetism those grey eyes held.
Velvet masks and curious glances all passed him by. Purpose veiled him in a visible glow. He was out to find it, that aura that left him reeling when it walked away. He'd been drawn to it for quite awhile now, but his cowardly heart had allowed him to act on it only tonight.
And then, he felt it. His nape erupted in goose bumps as he felt the burn on his back. He turned slowly to face a tall stone pillar where the Phantom of the Opera was leaning with a glass of something in his hand. Firewhisky, he'd wager. He was alone.
The stage was set, and all he needed was a curtain.
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The languid Phantom continued to sip at his drink as he watched the evening go by. He was arrogance and lofty condescension personified, and no doubt he was aware of it. Several girls passed him with hot looks in their eyes, but none of them interested him in the very least. They were all too common for him, a Malfoy.
He was devastating in his costume, with his blond hair pulled back into a slick ponytail and his white domino half-mask to offset the gunmetal of his eyes. His suit was severely black, with a snowy white cravat tied and tucked into his front. But for all his effect, he did not do a thing to take advantage of it.
He was hoping for a little decadence tonight. A faceless fucking perhaps, or maybe a new perversion? However it was going to be, he welcomed it. Anyone would do for now.
Hesitance filled his mind, the only sensible part that was functioning now. It kept telling him that absolutely nothing would change between him and Draco, that the latter would still look down at him with that stinging contempt when they passed each other on the stairs. That he magnetism would never be reconciled and it would mean absolutely nothing, even after tonight.
There he was, that beautiful specimen of human leaning just fifteen feet away from him. No time to back out now, because his conscience would never leave him alone for it.
Harry kept on walking through the crowd until he was just one or two people away from Draco. He waited until those two people cleared off, then he raised his wand and muttered, "Delumino!"
The lights flickered off and cast the room into pitch darkness. He could not have chosen a better spell, since the lights stayed off until he spoke the counter charm. Not even "Lumos!" would turn the lights back on.
Going purely by instinct, he walked forward, reached out and gripped the back of Draco's neck. He pushed him against the pillar and oh-so-gently, kissed him.
The sudden darkness had at most, caught Draco unawares but the sensation of being kissed in the dark was just plain surprising. He had no idea who the hell it was, as he could only make out the faintest of details, like the tickle of feathers brushing the side of his face, the smooth texture of his assailant's lips and the tender care he was taking with his mouth. He groaned, actually groaned. He couldn't help it. There was something so frustrating about not knowing who was taking your mouth so desperately.
Harry's mouth moved down Draco's jaw line to caress the beating pulse at his throat. His tongue flicked at it once and when he pressed his lips to the spot again, the skin pulsated quicker.
He pressed his pelvis against Drano's and felt that his response was as rigid as his own. He ground his hips once, just to incite a groan from Draco. It took all his self-control not to undo Draco's slacks right then and take him like he fully intended, but he had to content himself with leaving a bite mark right below his Adam's apple. When he had ensured that it would bruise for at least a week, he shoved the rose into Draco's belt loop and he whispered in his ear, "Tonight's mine, just mine."
Clamors for the lights were getting louder and louder, and so Harry had to move away. His head spun from oxygen deprivation, so he staggered back a few meters and muttered the counter charm. The lights blinked back on, and a loud cheer erupted through the Great Hall. Harry had to blink his eyes a little to accustom them to the glare of the lights. When they had focused, he saw Draco was leaning against the pillar with one hand around his neck and the other hand holding the rose. His focus was also a little off-center, and his lips and cheeks were also rosy red. A smile crept across Harry's face, and he walked away before Draco noticed him grinning like an idiot.
In the crowd, Ron bumped into Harry. "There you are! Some fool turned off the lights, and I sloshed most of my butterbeer down my front. Here's yours though," he said, shoving a bottle in Harry's hand. "You should drink, you look flushed," he commented.
Harry dabbed in across his forehead and smiled at Ron. "Thanks mate, I kind of needed this,"
"You look happy. Are you alright now?"
"Absolutely,"
FIN!
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it! This is for my friend Bee, who inspired me to write this.
