Dirty Little Secret

Harry Potter had an enemy. Actually, he had two. The first one was Lord Voldemort, a wizard so evil that very few dared speak his name.

The second was Draco Malfoy. Tall, blonde, and sneering, he was constantly making fun of Harry and his friends, or trying to get them expelled. Today he had succeeded in putting Harry in detention, which would have made him happy if he hadn't landed himself in detention, too.

So, here they were, Gryffindor and Slytherin, scrubbing desks in Professor Flitwick's office for Filch, the caretaker who was in a never-ending battle with the Hogwarts students.

Harry worked silently, scrubbing until his arm felt as though it might come off, while Malfoy, also scrubbing, though not with nearly as much effort, complained loudly that this was servant's work.

"If my father knew about this," he was whining, "He'd have a fit. I'm a student. I shouldn't have to be doing this foul—"

"You know, Malfoy," said Harry, feeling agitated, "If you hadn't insulted my mum, I wouldn't have punched you, and you wouldn't have kicked me, and we wouldn't be in detention. So basically, this is all your fault. And will you stop complaining? Personally, I'd rather be doing this than hanging by my thumbs in Filch's office."

"Shut up, Potter, no one cares what you think." Malfoy snapped, "Anyway, my arms are about to fall of anyway, so hanging by your thumbs isn't much different." He tossed his rag down, leaned against his desk, and folded his arms. Harry did the same.

Suddenly, Malfoy's expression changed. He bit his lip and became very interested in his shoelaces. "Listen," he said, "I'm sorry I made fun of your mother. I'm sorry about all the times I made fun of you. But it's not fair. Famous Harry Potter with his Firebolt. Famous Harry Potter and his scar. Famous Harry fucking Potter, bla bla bla." He looked angry again.

"Yeah, well, sorry that my parents died for me. I didn't mean to live." Harry said angrily. "I wonder if your parents would die for you. I mean, it seems that all they're good for is following their master's orders. Too stupid to think for themselves. Of course, your dad wouldn't be in Azkaban if he'd done the job right, wouldn't he?"

"Leave my parents out of this, Potter!" Malfoy snarled.

"Why? I'm only telling the truth. Everyone knows what your family is; lowlife scum."

Two seconds later, Harry, once again, found himself on the ground, punching Malfoy, and vise versa. Harry shoved Malfoy up and over one of the desks. He did a sort of unintentional backflip and landed awkwardly on his feet before throwing a jar filled with some greenish liquid at Harry, who ducked. Their wands lay forgotten on the floor.

Suddenly, Malfoy lunged at Harry and shoved him against the wall. Their faces were inches apart. "Stay out of what you don't understand, Potter." He breathed, "You would do the same if you had no choice."

"Do what? What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Harry spat.

"That's none of your business, now is it, Potter? I told you, stay out of it. Stop following me wherever I go. Oh, don't look so surprised. I know you've been trying to get inside the Room of Requirement, but you'll never succeed."

"Aha! So I was right!" said Harry triumphantly.

"So what? It's none of your business!" Malfoy snarled, pushing Harry further up the wall.

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" Harry sneered. He could feel Malfoy's body pressing into his, and it was giving him an odd sensation that he couldn't explain.

"No, I am going to give you what you deserve." Malfoy hissed into Harry's ear. He was so close now that Harry could feel Malfoy's lips brushing his skin.

And then Malfoy was kissing him.

Ginny had never kissed Harry like this. Draco pushed Harry back and their lips moved together, and suddenly Harry could feel Draco's tongue pushing against his mouth. He was so surprised that he pulled away.

"What? You didn't like it?" Malfoy asked, looking slightly hurt.

"No. No it's not that." Said Harry breathlessly, "I was just— just surprised, that's all…"

And then they were kissing again. This time Harry let Draco put his tongue into his mouth. It was like an explosion was going on inside of him. A million thoughts pounded through his head as he snogged his enemy. This is wrong—but it feels so good— you two hate each other— but he's so hot— you're both boys, for Christ's sake—fuck you— and so on.

Malfoy was now running his hands along Harry's chest, still kissing him. They came to Harry's stomach, and then, slowly, his hands were moving downward—

The door burst open and they sprang apart. Filch stared at them for a moment, taking in their tousled hair and reddened lips. "What have you been doing?" he growled suspiciously.

"Er—"

"Fighting, are we? I'll have to report this, you know!" Filch said happily, his jowls quivering. "Can't have fighting in detention! This means more punishment!" And, looking gleeful, he hobbled out of the classroom, slamming the door as he went.

Harry and Draco looked at one another.

"I never leave business unfinished." Malfoy said, grinning.

…

Harry Potter had an enemy. Actually, he had two. The first one was Lord Voldemort. The other was his conscience. You see, he was starting too like detention…