"Harry, stop it!"
Harry was alone, walking towards the library, so no one could hear him scolding himself. He was scolding himself for being in such a good mood. For being in such a good mood because it was now the third day in a row that Draco Malfoy had smiled at Harry whenever he passed him in the corridor.
And now, Harry simply couldn't help it, he had that silly grin on his face, remembering the softening of Draco's features, the lightening of those ever glittering magical green eyes of his. Harry felt his heart ache with longing, longing to kiss those soft sweet lips, longing to embrace Draco and feel Draco's comforting arms around his, a silent promise to always protect Harry, and to always keep him safe.
If only, Harry thought, but sighed, and shrugged it off, knowing it would never happen.
He realised that he was at the library. "Closed – for renovation" it read. Harry vaguely remembered Dumbledore mentioning yesterday that the library would be given a "make-over" and to have all books returned by 3pm that afternoon at the latest. But Harry had been so preoccupied with the Draco attention, schoolwork and writing letters to Sirius that it had slipped his mind.
"Damn it!" Harry muttered to himself. Where could he go now? The library had often been his sanctuary; he often went to there, finding spots that nobody ever hung out at. In fact, he had a shameful confession. It had started a few months ago – he had been daydreaming, about Draco, naturally, and had begun to write. Somehow it had become steamier, and dirtier, and now he was writing full blown erotica, every day. He didn't use names, it would be embarrassing enough if someone were to find it and recognise Harry's handwriting, using his name and Draco's name to identify the male lovers would simply be social suicide, and while he never cared for popularity, being a total outcast would be too lonely to bear. He preferred to avoid attention where possible.
He had been keeping the stories under his bed, praying that Ron would never unwittingly happen upon them whilst searching for his slippers or something. Harry's whole body felt tense lately – and it wasn't because of Draco, or his smutty fiction. It was more like just a general urge to get away from it all.
Impulsively, he decided to go take a bath, hoping to relax and forget all of his worries for a while. The corridor darkened. It would be past curfew soon, perhaps it already was, so Harry scrabbled in his bag for his invisibility cloak. He was in his seventh year now, and Voldemort was long dead, but Harry couldn't throw it away, after all, it had been his father's.
Would he have understood? The thought popped into Harry's head almost immediately as he remembered his father's image from all the photos he had been given by Hagrid and other people of his father and his mother and Harry as a baby. As Harry hurried along under the cloak he wondered over and over how his father would have felt, if he'd been alive, and Harry had told him – "Dad, I'm in love with this beautiful boy." Would he have been repulsed by it? Was it possible that anyone would understand how Harry felt? He couldn't help it that he was in love with a boy…how could feelings so natural be wrong? How could love be wrong?
Love? Harry's head jerked up a little. Is this love? Am I in love with Draco? Just seeing Draco's smile always made him happier than anything else, it always gave him hope and courage. Taking the cloak off from around his shoulders and stuffing it carelessly back in his bag, Harry entered the boy's bathroom. It was quiet, but Harry heard a splashing noise and his ears pricking up, he walked over to the bath.
Draco.
Harry's face flushed deeply, he was utterly mortified at having come across Draco, covered from the chest down in bubbles. And it was a smooth, manly chest too, Harry was very aware that he was staring and hoped Draco hadn't noticed.
"Oh! I'm sorry," he made for a hasty retreat, hoping to live down the shame by tomorrow, but Draco smiled warmly at him.
"There's room for two…Harry. If you don't mind sharing."
Harry stood, gobsmacked, speechless. It was the first time Draco had called him by his first name…and the way he'd said it – like Harry was a dear friend to him too…
"No! I couldn't! Really."
"There's no need to be shy. Look." Draco pointedly closed his eyes. Harry's heart pounded faster and faster in his chest. Undress? With Draco in the room?
Harry yanked and tugged and struggled with his clothes, hurrying to discard everything and get in before Draco opened his eyes. He expected to feel safer in the foamy water, but being so close to a naked Draco had his pulse almost becoming one continuous sound – it was going so fast.
Draco opened his eyes and smiled at Harry again.
"So, what's such an obedient boy like you doing up past curfew?" His words were light, teasing Harry, but in a good way. But to Harry the words seemed to have embarrassing connotations and he blushed harder.
"Obedient boy? Does he think I'm boring, or too shy or something? I wish I could change his opinion of me," Harry thought, then sighed wistfully without thinking and Draco moved back in mock offence.
"I'm sorry Harry, am I boring you?"
"No, no!" Harry quickly shook his head. "Hey Draco? Why are you being so nice to me now? You used to hate me, didn't you?" He felt pretty lame saying it, but he had to find out the truth…at least then he could determine how Draco about him…
"No. You're wrong!" Draco's tone was harsh, but his anger wasn't directed at Harry. His sudden frustration surprised Harry, and scared him a little.
"I don't understand," Harry said, frustrated and confused. What did Draco mean? Obviously he had hated him, otherwise why would he have delighted in causing Harry so much distress whenever he could all those years ago?
"I never hated you. I hated myself, and that I obeyed my father so easily…and I took it out on you. I'm sorry…Harry. I just wanted someone to feel worse than I did…so I picked on you, because you seemed happy…" Draco's eyes were cast down, and Harry blinked at his genuine regret and shame, feeling moved and also, pleased to finally understand Draco's actions all those years ago.
"I was expected to hate you, but I told my father how I really feel though," Draco told Harry seriously, holding his gaze with those powerful meadow green eyes that captivated Harry so.
"That-That you don't hate me, you mean?" Harry's mouth was stupidly dry, and he quickly slicked his tongue across his lips, unaware that it turned Draco on.
"That I love you, Harry."
"Oh," Harry said stupidly, all thoughts leaving him completely as the boy he loved gazed intently at him.
Draco recovered a towel. "I should go," he muttered, not meeting Harry's eyes. Standing, he knotted the towel around his waist, as Harry's thoughts raced all around his brain.
"Do something! Do it now! Now!" Harry thought to himself.
Clutching at Draco's arm, Harry said loudly – "I love you too!"
There was a silence, lingering like the steam hovering above the water, then Draco turned back to Harry, and dropped his towel, before lowering quickly into the water again. The boys clumsily edged closer to each other in the water.
"Do you really…love me?" The level of vulnerability in Draco's voice amazed Harry, he never seen this softer side of Draco before.
"…Yes."
They struggled to shift closer. "Ow! My foot!" Harry cried softly. They laughed awkwardly, the water spraying up as they moved, then leaned in, eyes closing, to share a kiss. Draco's lips were unbelievably soft and Harry shifted in for more. Draco slid a wet arm around his back, pulling him closer.
Harry knew then that there could be no Heaven, none that could possibly ever be better than kissing a wet, naked, and very beautiful Draco in the water. Inexperienced, both moved gawkily around each other, splashing the water a little.
As they kissed, Harry became more and more aware of Draco's body sliding against his in the water, and the pace kicking up as their movements became of a more passionate nature.
Suddenly flushed, Harry tried to move back, but it was too late – Draco had felt his erection against his thigh. Deeply embarrassed, Harry looked down at the water, anywhere but at those green eyes.
"Harry…" Draco's voice was mercifully tender and gentle. He tipped his head to whisper in Harry's ear, water dripping from his hair onto Harry's shoulder. "Can I…?" As if to demonstrate what he meant his hand brushed Harry's hip just below the water.
Harry managed a nod, still in a daze that this was really happening – Draco loved him, Draco wanted him…
Slowly, unhurried, Draco and Harry moved so that Harry's back was against a wall of the bath, and Draco's hand lightly skimmed across Harry's thigh, towards his ever strengthening erection as the touch excited both. Holding his new lover tightly, his head over Harry's shoulder, Draco loosely grasped Harry in his hand, rubbing him between fingers and thumb, at first only grazing him teasingly, but then tightening a little, kneading him lovingly.
Red and hot with the bathwater steam and anticipation, Harry clung to Draco, the pleasure already beginning to build – he could feel himself getting all sweaty as he enjoyed it, and worried – he was already panting a little – and he didn't want to make any noises that would embarrass Draco.
Breathing harder now, Harry shifted a little in the water, and waited as the sensations began to unfurl. Draco had kept up a continual rhythm, but as Harry began to pant and buck into his hand, needing more, Draco pumped Harry harder under the water, even beginning some dirty talk – the kind Harry had used in his erotica.
"You like that? Does that feel good?" His words were barely whispers, words meant only for Harry's ears. "Come on, Harry. Cry out my name, and maybe I'll up the pace again."
The pleasure had gotten so much that Harry shuddered and jerked about in the water. Pressing his hot, wet body right up against Draco's, he granted Draco's wish, throatily moaning his name for him again and again.
Greatly happy to see Harry all hot and bothered, Draco furiously slicked his hand across Harry's cock, also scraping a finger under the length of his shaft as he did so. "So that's your spot," he whispered, as Harry quivered violently, thrashing in the water, and then coming on Draco's fingers.
They panted quietly in the water together, as the sensations shimmered out into the water.
"Draco," Harry swallowed, some time later. "Why did you never tell me earlier that you liked me?"
"I thought you'd be repulsed by it," Draco smiled gently, brushing a piece of wet hair out of Harry's eyes lovingly, and the sentiment behind the action made Harry smile, it was like Draco was letting him know that they were a couple now.
"That's what I thought you'd think about me," Harry whispered, so happy that it wasn't the case.
They shared another kiss, this time with a deeper meaning, as they longed to intertwine their hearts, exploring each other with soft, gentle lips, taking their time to feel all the emotions.