And more for my as of yet review-less story...

It was only a few hours later when Harry knocked on Professor McGonagall's office. She opened the door, raising her eyebrow as she saw him standing there. He was slightly wet, having likely been outside when it began to pour only an hour ago, but was mostly dry and very serious. "Well?" She asked incredulously, reminding Harry so much of Draco that he was only reminded two-fold of his purpose.

"I know Dumbledore is in his office, I know the password, but he won't let me in." Harry told her.

"If Dumbledore doesn't want to see you he doesn't have to, Mr. Potter," McGonagall nodded, sighing a bit. "Come inside, I'll get you a cuppa."

"I don't want tea," Harry told her, "I want someone to help me, I want a straight answer! Dumbledore never locked me out before and suddenly, now that Voldemort is back, it's like he doesn't want to ever see me."

"I can't give you the answers you want, Mr. Potter." McGonagall told him.

"Who can then? Not Mr. Weasley, not Snape, not Sirius-"

"Come inside," McGonagall said sharply. "We can't talk like this out here."

"Because of Umbridge." Harry said mournfully. "She took the school, Voldemort's tricked the Ministry, and no one will even talk to me. You can't help him, can you?"

"Help who?" McGonagall asked. Harry didn't answer and she pressed, "Harry, is there a student in trouble?"

"Yes." Harry told her. "But really, what can I do? Lock him in Grimmauld Place the rest of his life?" He turned around sharply.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall demanded.

"I'll see myself out, Professor."

...

Draco Malfoy grabbed Harry, pushing him into an old classroom before anyone could walk down the hallway and see. The door had no windows and he locked it with a quick spell.

"What's this for?" Harry asked him when Draco'd turned around.

"I just wanted to see you." Draco told him, crossing his arms.

Awkwardly, Harry grinned, "Alright? Here I am." He hadn't seen Draco since the library yesterday afternoon; the Gryffindors had had no classes with the Slytherins. Today had been the very first day he had not counted that as a blessing.

Harry's gaze flew all over Draco's face, and his fingers twitched in either anticipation or desire, Draco didn't know which. But Draco grinned. "You seem tense," he said.

"I really, really, really would like to stay and talk to you," Harry told him sadly, "But I have to go..." his gaze flickered to Draco's lips and he gulped, "I have a thing I can't talk about."

"I know; your little club Umbridge keeps rattling on about." Draco nodded.

"So... er..." Harry shrugged. "How've you been all day?" He offered.

"Shut up." Draco ordered.

Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

Draco stepped forward, cupped Harry's chin with his hand, and gently brushed their lips against each other. He stepped back, smirking a bit as he saw the curve of Harry's lip and his closed eyes.

"Hm." Harry mumbled, "You don't want to talk?"

"I figure we're both condemned anyways, why not enjoy it while we can?" Draco told him, "As much as I like to rattle on about our inevitable demise and the mysteries of the universe, I figured I'd catch you and give you a snog instead."

"What?" Harry frowned. Draco pushed him, and Harry fell with flailing arms onto the floor. "Ow!" Harry yelled, "Why did you-"

Draco sat down on the ground beside him and gently caressed Harry's cheek with his long fingers. "Because I thought about it," he said to a speechless Harry, "And this is more fun." He leaned down, capturing Harry's lip with a passionate embrace.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck, pushing him closer in a bruising grip neither minded. Draco turned his head sideways, anything to get closer to Harry, enamored of the warmth below him. Harry let out a moan, reaching out to pull Draco on top of him.

Draco pushed Harry's hands back, setting them beside his head. He wrapped his leg around Harry's side, straddling him with his knees, and he kissed Harry again, pulling Harry toward him by tugging on Harry's unruly black hair.

Arms freed, Harry wrapped them around Draco's middle, reveling in the lithe body above him. He pulled up his leg, pulling up to get closer, and that accidentally rubbed against Draco's groin. Draco let out a moan so erotic that Harry, for the absolute first time, found himself painfully aroused. He had no idea that this was how couples felt when he saw them, touching and snogging, hidden poorly in windows, behind archways or portraits, and after almost every Quidditch game, snuggled up in the same chair in the common room. He wanted it, he wanted Draco with him, holding him, dirty floor in an abandoned classroom or not.

Draco kissed him, passionately, lovingly, pressing into Harry as if there was nothing else in the world he needed more than to be close to him. He pulled away only to breathe, his long white hair, normally immaculately groomed, mussed up and falling, tickling Harry's nose, before he kissed him again.

Harry traced every part of Draco's body he could feel through the robes, the compact muscles, the thin frame, and he wanted him, to touch him, for eternity. Nothing he'd ever done, defeating Voldemort, catching the Snitch, nothing could compare to holding Draco Malfoy. "I love you," Harry whispered when he could breathe.

"Mm." Draco replied, pulling Harry closer.

1

"Where've you been?" Hermione demanded as a ragged Harry walked through the Room of Requirement. "I had to just make everyone do what we worked on last time, Ron and I waited for you but it's almost curfew!"

Ron and Hermione were the only two left in the room. Pillows were trashed, books thrown everywhere, the Room of Requirement looking as if a hurricane had attacked it, the same as it always did after a good lesson.

Ron took in Harry's hair, messier than usual, his robes, tossed over and strange, his glasses slightly askew, and he grinned, "You look like you've been through the mill, mate, did you get attacked or something? We can always organize a..." He trailed off as he saw Harry's wide grin and heard the sound of humming. "Are you alright?"

"I am perfectly 'alright'," Harry told them. He grabbed Hermione, twisting her around as if he were waltzing before letting her go and collapsing on the pile of feathers and torn pillow cases, "Absolutely, positively, and completely 'alright'."

Hermione's hands jumped to her hips incredulously and she glared at him, "You were snogging Cho again, weren't you?"

"No he wasn't." Ron said quickly. "Cho was here."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Who were you snogging?" She demanded.

"Nobody." Harry chuckled, still grinning like an idiot. "Nobody, I swear."

"Then why are you smiling? Did Snape get fired?" Ron demanded, smiling as well at the thought.

"Ron!" Hermione chided. Calmly, she nodded at Harry, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Harry lied, "I'm just happy."

"Then why were you late? Because you were happy?" Ron asked, sitting down on the pile of feathers beside Harry. Hermione remained standing, glaring down at the both of them with all the fury of an avenging angel.

"Yes." Harry replied without thinking.

"So, how did you get this 'happiness' which made you late?" Hermione asked.

"I... I..." Harry searched for an answer.

"Don't lie to me!" Hermione yelled.

Harry's grin faded slightly, but then he said, "Alright, I'm sorry. It's just," he shook his head, "I don't know what it is but I think I..." He chuckled, "I don't know."

"Did you find out about that door yet?" Ron offered.

"No... no, I... er... It's rather hard to explain, but it is... and then it... I guess it happened or was happening before I just never noticed so..." Harry sighed. "I'm sorry Hermione."

"Explain why you're late." Hermione ordered.

Harry stood up with a sigh, pulling feathers from his robe. "Isn't it almost curfew?"

Both Hermione and Ron stared at him in disbelief. "You're keeping a secret from us?" Hermione shouted.

"I'll tell you... later." Harry told them. "It's... er... time to go, right? Can't have Umbridge catching us."

...

Harry and Draco met early the next morning, before anyone else except possibly the ghosts were awake. Harry changed as fast as he could, the early tendrils of daylight slipping through the window, grabbing his school bag and stuffing the Marauders Map and the Invisibility Cloak in his bag as well. He tip toed out of the room, glad to hear Ron's loud snoring. It wasn't difficult to get down to the Common Room, and he slipped out the door.

"A bit early to get to class, don't you think?" The Fat Lady sighed. Harry's eyes widened and he wiped around, caught like a deer in headlights, he'd completely forgotten about her. "Where are you going, Mr. Potter?" She asked.

"Uh... er..." Harry mumbled, and then he offered, "See my boyfriend?"

The Fat Lady smiled, "Well, good luck to you!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Really?" He said, he had no idea it was that easy to get past her.

"Of course, all those new rules, you poor hormonal kids need some time to meet up, don't you?" The Fat Lady said, "Oooh! Get some breakfast from the house elves too. Oh, it's so romantic."

"Really?" Harry repeated.

"Oh, I'd love to be in school now," the Fat Lady smiled, "What a gossip it is, Harry Potter sneaking out to see his boyfriend."

"Don't tell anyone!" Harry hissed.

"Don't worry! I'll keep your secret." The Fat Lady winked and then 'shoo'ed him, "Go on, go on, don't keep him waiting."

"Thanks." Harry said, running away, but not before he heard the Fat Lady sigh, "Ah, young love..." Harry blushed purple.

...

Draco felt like an idiot, sitting alone outside, under the third tower where no one would be able to see him from a window. It was wet outside, so he sat on a rock he'd spelled to be dry. He hated waking up, and he never would have woken this early anyway if he hadn't been filled to the brim with anticipation and desire to see Harry again, to talk to him, hold him, and to snog him until he couldn't breathe again. This was... definitely new.

"Toast?" Harry offered, holding down a piece of buttered toast on a napkin. Draco took it, and Harry flopped down beside him and then frowned. He looked at the ground. "It's wet," he remarked like an idiot before blushing.

"It's called dew," Draco reminded him, "It does this almost every morning."

"I... I... I knew that." Harry told him, "I just didn't expect..."

Draco mumbled a spell and pointed his wand at Harry, instantly drying him and the land around him. He took a bite of the toast, chewed it for a moment, and swallowed. Wiping his mouth on the napkin, maintaining his impressive table manners even sitting on dirt, he commented, "I thought it was only the Slytherins and Ravenclaws who knew how to use the kitchen."

"I don't think most Gryffindors do." Harry told him. He'd eaten his own toast on the way down and now he foraged through his bag, grabbing the Marauder's Map from the bottom where it had slid to. "I want to show you something."

Draco took another careful bite of the toast and then moved closer to Harry so that their sides touched.

Harry tried to keep from turning red as he unraveled the Map. "This is... well, one of my prized possessions. It was my dad's, and then well, Fred and George stole it, but they gave it to me third year."

"What is it?" Draco asked. He tried to keep the look off his face, the one that said he was incredibly touched by Harry trusting him enough to show him something that precious, but it was far too early in the morning to keep a straight face.

"It's a map." Harry told him. He handed it to Draco, who set down the toast. He didn't need to wipe his hands because not even the slightest bit of butter or crumb had fallen, but he brushed them on his robes anyway.

"People?" Draco frowned, staring into the map, looking at the footprints, "That's the Slytherin dormitories..." He flipped through the map, "Those are the passageways..." Tracing his finger he remarked, "And that's the Squib!"

"You mean Filch." Harry frowned.

"Who else?" Draco watched the dot move, "It shows all the people, everyone... you know where everyone is all the time?"

"Yep, my father and his friends made it when they were in school." Harry told him, scooting a bit closer so that they were practically in each other's laps.

Draco grinned, "So, this is how you never get caught, isn't it? You could be out all night moving around and no one would ever see you." He then frowned, "This is how you stalked me, isn't it?"

"Er..." Harry didn't answer the question. He reached for his bag again finding the Invisibility Cloak much quicker. "There's something else," he said, hand slightly shaking in anticipation.

Draco folded the map on his lap and leaned onto Harry's shoulder to better get a glimpse down the bag, "What is it?"

"A cloak." Harry pulled it out with exaggerated flourish, placing it in Draco's hand.

"A cloak?" Draco frowned, fingering it carefully. It took a moment before he realized, eyes widening, "Invisibility Cloak." He stared at Harry, thoroughly impressed, "You... I mean this, you have all of this and a Firebolt? You have got to be the luckiest person in the world."

"Hm, maybe I am." Harry said with a grin, gently placing his lips on Draco's cheek.

Draco shoved him away playfully. "Not that was sappy," he said.

"I thought it might be romantic." Harry frowned.

"I not a girl," Draco snorted. "Don't patronize me."

"Well," Harry said, "Sorry for trying to-"

"Shut up." Draco told him. "We've got about an hour before everyone in the castle starts to wake up."

"So?" Harry asked.

"So?" Draco repeated slowly. He grabbed Harry's arm, tugging him over until Harry was right over him on all fours, looking down with an idiot's grin. "Snog me." Draco commanded, wrapping his arms around Harry's neck and pulling him close.

"With pleasure." Harry said, capturing Draco's lips in a loving embrace.

"Sap." Draco mumbled.

Harry pulled him toward him harder, until the bruises on their mouths from the night before chaffed and it was nearly as painful as it was exhilarating to be near each other.

1/0

They kept meeting each other for days after, Harry sneaking out early, avoiding Hermione and Ron as best as he could. They were almost caught once by Flitwick, and had to scramble under Harry's Invisibility Cloak and stay that way ten minutes while the Charms teacher searched the corridor for a dropped locket. Neither of them had minded, staying wrapped in each others arms, and although they didn't want to be considered weak, or, as Draco said, like two sappy lovebirds, they stayed that way long after Flitwick had gone.

Harry didn't know how Draco kept was he was doing hidden, only that Crabbe and Goyle didn't seem half as disgruntled as Hermione and Ron did. He didn't ask Draco, because opening up to what was happening with his two friends was far more painful than he would like to admit, and he wasn't sure how he would react if he heard Draco call Hermione a Mudblood or Ron 'Weasel'. It was bad enough the Slytherins kept along with their rousing chorus of 'Weasley is Our King' everytime one of them saw Ron walking down the halls, but Ron didn't say a word about it to Harry anymore and Harry didn't know what to say when people he'd seen Draco, his Draco, talking with, laughing with, insulted him or his friend. Ron took as a betrayal even worse than Harry's secret, or, as Ron called it, 'the stupid girl you're snogging and think you're keeping hidden'. Hermione refused to let Harry copy notes, sit next to her in classes, or even say a normal conversation that didn't start with 'Now let me tell you my secret'.

Harry had told them everything that had ever happened to him before, wasn't he allowed to have one secret of his own?

If Occlumency lessons taught him anything it was that he shouldn't bring attention to any memories or else Snape would open them up, make some stark comment, and then yell at him about how much more Harry needed to practice while he sat there glowing red wishing he could crawl under a rock. Of course, there was no better pick-me-up after Occlumency than to find Draco on the Marauder's Map, all alone, and run to him, hide in some empty closet or classroom and talk and snog until curfew.

He showed Draco everything, and in return Draco showed him nothing. Harry was too blinded notice or to think maybe something was a bit off and to ask. Draco was far more willing to talk about his past than he let out, he had secrets, he'd told lies, and he would have given them all up in any conversation with Harry. Harry never asked, although he did leave openings, spaces between talking about his crazy Aunt Petunia or explaining things about toasters and refrigerators for Draco to input anything about his past. And the only time Harry asked directly he was too vague, throwing the subject open and Draco replied with a quick, "My father would give me almost anything I asked for." And so Harry just assumed.

For Harry it was easy to bare his soul, to explain things, to tell Draco everything, to promise over and over that Draco would come home with him this summer, stay safe with the Dursleys, hidden so Draco's parents couldn't convert him. Harry promised that almost every time he saw him. Draco would smile, loving the idea. Stay safe with Harry meant never meet his birth mother, never become a Death Eater, never worry about what the Dark Lord would to him, never see his friends again, thousands of nevers, nevers, and nevers.

And Draco loved him. He loved Harry. He'd never loved before, he'd never been loved before, but somehow he just knew that absolutely, beyond any shadow of a doubt, he loved Harry Potter. And he only guessed that Harry loved him, because he didn't know how to be sure if Harry truly even cared for him. Draco'd been betrayed before.

Which was why he wasn't very surprised to see Cho Chang kissing Harry on a bench by the Quidditch pitch.

For some reason, he had to go to the hospital wing and missed practice that day, even though it cost him with the captain. He also missed when Harry pushed Chang away and the horror which crossed his face as he saw the Slytherin uniforms.

...

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