DISCLAIMER: I don't and regrettably never will own any part of Harry Potter, its characters or its plot.
WARNING: This fanfiction is SLASH. This means boy/boy. Don't like, don't read, otherwise enjoy!
Secrets of Sleepless Nights
It was late. Too late, Harry decided, for any attempt of sleep to be worthwhile. Resigned to yet another sleepless night, he threw back the bed clothes, revelling in the cool air that sighed over his shins. The room was too hot (the summer creeping in through the doorway that spring had created), smelling unpleasantly of boyish sweat and hormones.
With all the stealth of a thief, Harry crept to his trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak.
It fell around him like the familiar arms of a lover.
Following the path that he had walked so many times he could do it with his eyes shut, Harry made his way out of Gryffindor tower, through the dark and shadowy corridors, (holding his breath as he edged past Mrs. Norris) down the sweeping staircase until he was making his way across the centre of the deserted Great Hall and had slipped through the double doors into the crisp outside air.
Harry smiled into the darkness, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair through the cloak, before moving off towards the lake.
DDDDD
When I was very young, my mother used to tell me that if I were to grow up to be the man my father was, I needed to learn three things.
One: The Dark Lord comes first, above all else. After Him comes family and with it loyalty and then (and only then) comes yourself.
Two: The words lead the man but the actions lead the war.
And three: If the Dark Lord needs no sleep, neither do you. Similarly with human emotion, with love and with anything else that is bright and good and hopeful.
These were the rules that shaped my childhood and, once that was over with, ruled my life. My being the only son of one of The Dark Lord's 'right hand men' was probably the main thing that fuelled my parents to do what they did and are doing.
If you asked my father right now what his views on child rearing are, he'd tell you that the secret to success is power.
His attempt to teach me power was to exercise his own. Let me tell you something: no matter how many times you are cast the cruciatus curse on, it doesn't get easier to bear. It does not make you a stronger human being, or a more authoritative leader or a more heartless murderer or any of the things my father hopes I will be.
All it does is break you.
Bit by bit.
DDD
The lake was glassy and so perfectly smooth Harry almost believed he could walk on it.
The moon hung gently in the satin black sky: a half circle of watery light.
He let the cloak drop and pool around his feet. It was a perfect night; expectant, almost. On other nights when he had visited this spot (his spot), it had rarely given him as much serenity as it did now.
The lazy wind picked up strands of his hair again, pushing it away from the lightning bolt scar that had both made and destroyed him in the same two words.
DDD
And suddenly there he was.
Dumbledore's poster boy, appearing out of mid air as if purely to mock me. He stared aimlessly out across the uninteresting lake, tilting his head towards the breeze.
The moonlight was glinting off his spectacles, like tiny sparks. The seconds stretched on and I watched him, waiting for him to do something.
In fact, I half expected to walk into the water; let his body drag him down. I wondered what I would do if he did. Nothing?
Probably.
It was that thought that made me walk towards him. (Call it rebellion or call it denial, I really don't care.)
DDD
Suddenly, a voice spoke from somewhere behind his left shoulder, "Breaking rules again, Potter?" Harry whipped round, hand instinctively going to his pocket for his wand, only to realise with a jolt that he'd left it on his bedside table next to his water glass and his snitch clock.
"Who-" he snarled, but was cut off by a lazy, familiar voice drawling the word "Lumus". Draco Malfoy's face was suddenly illuminated by the light from his wand tip.
"Malfoy," Harry spat viciously, stepping away from him. Malfoy's lips were curled in the trademark smirk but there were dark bags under his eyes and a graze on his cheekbone. "Good evening to you too, Potter,"
"Bloody hell Malfoy, can't you just leave me alone?"
"I do try, you know. Believe me I don't follow you to these places,"
"Could have fooled me,"
"Really Potter, I'd have thought you were used to endless company by now, what with your adoring fans idolising your every move."
"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy. I hate it. Just leave me alone."
"But Potter I got the impression you were such a people person,"
"I hate people."
"So do I."
"Fuck off then."
Malfoy just raised an aristocratic eyebrow and extracted something from his pocket.
"What's that?" Harry asked warily.
"It's French." Was the reply as Malfoy lit the cigarette to his lips and lit it with a quick charm he learned from an obscure German textbook, written precisely for this purpose.
This threw Harry off guard.
"What?" Malfoy murmured before inhaling deeply, holding it for a second and exhaling, blowing a fragile smudge of ghostly grey smoke into the endless night sky.
"It's muggle," Harry said at last,
"Yes."
A blush of cobalt blue was peering over the horizon. Soon, the dawn would break and Harry would have to go back to his life, the only peace he could have had spoilt by Draco Malfoy.
"Look, Malfoy, I don't know or care why you're here, but can't you just...I dunno...find another place or something."
"I was here first."
Harry sighed in exasperation, "God's sake!" he hissed before stalking off along the bank.
DDD
It's fun, I admit, taunting Potter. There's something about the way he gets when he's angry; cheeks flushed, eyes bright. It makes me feel ...I don't know what. But I like it.
DDD
"Potter!" Malfoy called, his voice carrying in the bleary early morning, "Potter!"
"What! What is it now?"
"You left your cloak." Malfoy thrust the material out to him and Harry snatched it back, glaring at the boy in front of him.
Malfoy looked back for a long moment, the sneer gone from his face, the cigarette held effortlessly between two long fingers. Harry eyed it curiously.
"Want some?" Malfoy asked quietly, following his gaze.
"No."
"Have you never tried it?"
"Well..."
"Of course. I'd forgotten who I was talking to."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Sod off, ferret,"
Malfoy's eyes narrowed. In one fluid movement he placed the cigarette back between his lips, bent down and plucked a blade of wilted grass from the struggling lawn.
Harry watched with half apprehension, half curiosity as he 'noxxed' the lumos he had cast earlier and muttered something under his breath. The grass transformed into a very ordinary looking jam jar.
"Wow Malfoy," Harry said, "you've really outdone yourself," but Malfoy didn't look up.
Harry yelped and stumbled back as suddenly a ball of fire burst into life inside the jar. It flickered in the darkness, throwing dancing shadows over Malfoy's features, making him look almost ethereal. "Oh..." Harry murmured, transfixed.
DDD
It's a pretty spell.
Pansy taught it to me. She preferred it to Lumos; said it was less harsh and therefore made her nose look more attractive.
She's quite conscious about her nose is Pansy. Mind you, I would be too if mine looked like that.
I chucked the cigarette into the flames. They're quite hypnotic you know. Pansy says they have calming properties. The fire that is, not the cigarette. But I suppose it's true of both.
DDD
Malfoy was smiling. It was so unexpected that Harry couldn't take his eyes off it.
Now he looked, he could see that Malfoy's lips were not at all bad. The light made them look a dark red, as if he'd painted them.
His whole face, in fact was illuminated with a soft golden glow. His lips were almost feminine, Harry noticed, but the strength of his jaw-bone counter-balanced any weakness of face this might have created.
"What are you looking at, Potter?" Malfoy asked. His voice was surprisingly soft.
"Nothing."
"Liar."
Malfoy looked at him. His eyes were dancing with reflected light. Every shade of grey imaginable swam through his irises. He looked strangly beautiful in the flickering flames.
DDD
You think I haven't thought about it before? Of course I have. And it would be achievable if he were anyone else.
Blaise, for example. Or Theodore.
If I were to marry a pure-blood witch (i.e. Pansy) and produce an heir and serve the Dark Lord like I should, then I could have who I wanted.
But who would want that? Really. An unhappy marriage, a neglected child and a shameful affair.
Is that what you would want? I am obviously not in love with Harry Potter. I'm not in love with anyone. All I'm saying is that if I were to love him, I would love only him. And my father and his Master and all of them can go fuck themselves.
If I were to love Harry Potter then my God I'd have chosen quite a boy.
DDD
Harry looked away. He could feel a blush rising on his cheeks and hated himself for it.
The blur of blue on the horizon had amplified into a streak, merged with the hazy pink swell of an awakening sun.
"Isn't it hot?" he asked abruptly,
"What?"
Harry gestured to the jar, which Malfoy's hands were clasped around,
"No. It's just warm."
Not quite knowing why, Harry reached out his own hand and touched the glass. His fingers brushed Malfoy's and Harry felt a sharp thrill deep inside his rib-cage.
He looked up from under his eye-lashes.
Malfoy's lips were parted. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken.
He moved his index finger so it overlapped Draco's.
DDD
I don't know why he did it. I expect it was just the fact that I was there and so was he.
I thought, for a moment, that perhaps it was because he was just as desperately lonely as I was.
It made me want to laugh.
I'm not sure why.
DDD
A strange feeling swelled in his chest.
It rose up in his throat like a sob or a laugh. It felt like joy.
For this reason, and others that he couldn't explain even if he tried, he leant forwards and closed the gap between him and Malfoy.
Draco's lips were smooth, like the inside of a tulip. For a split second they just stood there, connected by something so fragile it could, at any moment, snap.
But then Malfoy took one hand off the jar and lifted it to Harry's hair.
Harry whimpered against Draco's mouth and leant in towards him, a hand resting on his collar, thumb brushing the spot on his neck that nature designed for love bites.
It was as smooth as water.
DDD
His hair was just as soft as I suspected it to be.
His lips tasted of cinnamon.
DDD
The sky was half lit by the time they broke away, the breathless crescendo of their kiss synchronising with that of the sunrise.
"Really Potter." Malfoy breathed, resting his forehead on Harry's in such a way that the scar could have belonged to either of them, "Didn't think you had it in you."
Harry smiled but said nothing.
The fire had long since been dropped and extinguished at their feet.
Malfoy let his arm fall to circle round Harry's pyjama clad waist.
"I have to get back," Harry muttered, pulling away.
The cold morning air swooped in to replace Draco's body heat.
"So do you."
Draco nodded but Harry had already turned, picking up his invisibility cloak, to make his way back into the castle.
DDD
...It felt wrong, somehow, watching him walk away from me. It's not as if it's the first time, but this time it felt wrong.
DDD
"Potter!" Harry stopped at Draco's voice, "Are we still enemies?" he turned round to face him, the question echoing through his mind.
"I don't know," he said finally.
The birds had begun to sing. It was like a warning. Don't forget who you are.
Harry's words hung between them like a fog, "If I were to say that we aren't?" Draco said at last.
Harry smiled.
Draco couldn't see far enough to tell if it was sad or pleased.
"If you were to tell me that we weren't, I would kiss you again. But you're not going to say that."
"Will I not?"
"No. Because no matter what you do or how you feel, you are a Malfoy."
DDD
Malfoy. Only by chance. Only by fucking bad luck.
DDD
"Only by chance."
"Chance is enough." Harry pointed to his scar, "This was a chance. Look where it's left me."
"You aren't that scar, Harry, just as I'm not my father."
Harry smiled and shook his head,
"Someday, Draco. Maybe someday." He said. And then he left. And that was it.
DDD
That's all he gave me.
Someday.
It was so heartbreakingly inadequate.
But it was enough for me.
Someday, perhaps, I'll find him again and we'll make that someday our present out of whatever scraps of emotion we're left with.
But for now we are alone again, and off we go, towards our lives.
Lost in the newborn day.