First off, I never do this, I despise the character Harry Potter and every single pairing that involves him. Haha, this was writtin for my friend Annabella, who requested it. So, this is probably the only Draco/Harry, or...Harry anything you're going to get. Enjoy, and I love reviews! :D


And the dawn breaks heavily over the horizon, his lips tangled up in mine, our fingers fused, and breathing even, the words fallen…falling…off of soft lips, and his touch, like an electric shiver, and his heart, the steady drum shaking me…shaking…shaking…shook.

Another day, another obstacle, the rising of bodies, means the burden of hearts growing heavier. That day I ate in silence, in memory, a lingering of passion haunting the halls and chambers. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back, the thought tore at me, digging deep into my soul with its hateful thorn.

Voices pulled me from my trance, but only long enough to mumble another "Leave me alone" or "Yes, thanks" before I was thrust back into my uneasy thoughts.

Where was he? Was he safe? Of course he wasn't…he was part of this war now…and I was here, useless, until my mother decided it was time for me to come fight…and I would fight to the death for him. I would fight the Dark Lord…My Lord, until I died under the unrelenting Avada Kadavra that was aimed in my direction. After the small utterance, I would be with my love again. My forbidden love, my secret love.

I felt my body twitch and spasm, bringing me back to breakfast, Goyles face inches from my own, his hideous visage a horrible contrast to the daydream I had been wrenched out of.

"What could possibly be so important?" I snapped at him, feeling my hand automatically twitch towards my wand, I restrained the urge.

"I…s-sorry mate, I was just wondering if you wanted your toast."

"You blubbering idiot" I said, shoving my untouched toast at him, deciding in that moment to skip classes, it's not like I went anymore, I spent half of my time in the Gryffindor common room. It was becoming quite expensive really, I had to pay a sniveling little first year every week to give me the new password.

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I was walking along the deserted hall, the thought of when I had gotten up or when I had started walking was fleeting, the halls slipped by like water around me, the echos of my footsteps the only sound. I was alone, I loved it that way, when everyone else in the castle was downstairs in the main room…I could sit…and I could think.

I reached the Fat Lady and she gave me a reproachful look like she always did, I always enjoyed watching the smirk melt off her face when I hissed the password at her. She grunted as she swung the door open for me.

I walked through the familiar room, inhaling deeply, the scent of this common room had always soothed me…had always made me feel part of something good. If my father had seen me in that moment…

And then I was ascending the steps to the dormitories, the cool stones icy fingers reached silently through my shoes and made my teeth clatter. My breath always caught now…what if someone was sick? What if I wasn't completely alone?

I pressed my ear to the door, my breathing stilled, I stayed in that position for exactly 60 seconds before I thought it was safe enough to enter. I had only had a close call once…I had listened at the door for 34 seconds before I thought it was okay, but as I cracked the door open a wisp of a snore reached my ears and I barreled down the stairs, my heart thumping madly in my chest.

Now as I cracked the door open I let my breath out softly, smiling as I found all four beds empty…and his bed…of course his bed was empty. I didn't know who slept there now, I didn't want to know, it would always be his bed…always.

I crossed the barren room and sat on the dark red comforter. I let my hands trace over the rough fabric, letting it slide between my fingers, letting it tease the sides of my thighs.

I lowered myself onto the bed, burying my nose in the sheets, trying to catch a scent…a wisp of the past that would last me. It was there…I knew it was…the smallest of traces, the lightest of memories. I let it fill me until it overflowed, leaving me sighing on the bed, the sheets bunched in my hands, the tears leaking freely from my eyes.

It was always his bed where we made love…he always blushed when I called it that. But, that was what it was. Sometimes I would get angry at him, because it was his fault I was in love with my enemy, he would tell me to hit him, and I would. Masochistic Harry Potter, who would have thought? I liked it too…but only for the sweetness that followed, the tender kisses, the long embraces.

The time that Syltherin and won the House Cup…seemingly, he had rushed back to the dormitory to sulk, convinced that it was his fault. He always thought it was his fault.

Late that night I had snuck into the dormitory and silently entered the room, he was awake. He looked at me with such venom in his eyes I thought for a moment he was going to shout and ruin everything, but he had just moved over and made room for me on his bed, I ran my fingers lightly through his disheveled brown hair, and he slid his fingers through my white locks, the image of distorted love.

"Draco, I feel so weak when I'm with you…" He would murmur, more often than not, and I would always say the same thing, "Maybe you shouldn't always be the strong one."

He said I kept him sane, but the truth is, we kept each other sane.

Of course, I had a girlfriend for appearances, Pansy, and he had Cho, that godforsaken Asian. I loathed her, almost as much as he loathed Pansy. Well, he hated all of my friends…but I hated his, it was perfect.

I always thought Dumbledore must have known, Harry and I could both block our minds, but he had his ways…and he always shot me knowing glances after he had addressed Harry, and vice versa, I could never tell if he approved, but he certainly seemed amused.

The scent lingered in my nose as I pulled away, the tears were stinging my eyes, and they had stained the bed sheet. I waved away the tears with my wand, and smoothed the sheets. I touched the curtains surrounding the bed, re familiarizing myself with the feel of them.

I remember…once when we had skipped class to come here, in his haste to be rid of my clothes he somehow got me tangled in those curtains…we fell to the ground giggling, the sound echoing through the chamber.

Then the hours and hours that bed held us hostage…we sank deep into that mattress, our lips crashed together, our moans filling the room and steaming the window. His rough hands pulling the delicate juices out of me, and lips drinking in the screams as I climaxed.

And we always blushed when we were done, not sure how to say goodbye. He moved his feet awkwardly and I ran my hand through my hair, "Well, Goodnight" he would say, and I would smile so he couldn't see it, and I would turn my back and walk through the door, "Goodnight" I would call.

I detangled my hand from the curtains and looked at my watch, almost lunchtime already…I never could understand how I could sit there for so long, lost in the depths of my thoughts.

I pushed myself regretfully off of the bed, letting my touch linger on the bedpost for a minute before I pulled away. I crossed the floor the the door and put my hand on the doorknob, knowing I would be back again tomorrow or the next day for my fix.

I glanced back at the room, pulling the door open, I stepped though, "Goodnight, Harry."