A Deviation of Circumstance

by Sparkling Whimsies

Summary- AU: In a reality where Neville Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter is famous. He's the beloved son of Lily Potter and the famous Quidditch chaser James Potter, as well as the godson of both the famous beater Sirius Black and the world-renown novelist Remus Lupin. He's beginning to think he's seriously falling for his boyfriend, the one-and-only Draco Malfoy. After a late-night flight after a fight with Draco, Harry finds himself lost in a place where everyone's convinced his parents and godfather are dead and he's the Boy-Who-Lived. Realizing he's stuck there permanently, Harry searches for something familiar to hold on to... and decides he wants his boyfriend back.

Setting- Sixth Year

Rating - R

Chapter Four: Alternate Universe Harry

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It took three full weeks for the student population of Hogwarts to adjust to Harry's true personality. He was still occasionally on the receiving end of a few surprised glances whenever he acted out of character. Instances where he was insulted usually warranted those looks, as he usually retorted with all appearances of amusement. Those of his Slytherin friends from home that he had sought out again had delighted (in a disdainful and aloof way only befitting of a Slytherin) in his "new-found" Slytherin tendencies, such as his rather morbid sense of humor. Hermione and his Ravenclaw friends liked to besiege him with confrontationally-worded questions designed to goad him into a long-winded discussion about controversial topics in the Wizarding world that their Harry Potter could have cared less about. The teachers, on the other hand, were either delighted or (in Snape's case) hopping mad. The Harry Potter they were seeing was an intelligent, polite, and capable young wizard. He could be counted on to answer questions in class correctly, if not with a bit of cheeky humor. He helped the other students without any prompting and could usually explain whatever the assignment was in a way so that the confused student more readily understood. Unfortunately for Professor Snape, this meant that his least favorite student gave him nothing that he could legitimately harangue him for. Unfortunately for Harry, this led to long diatribes about his father's arrogance and supercilious behavior. It was during those diatribes that Harry had the hardest time keeping his secret.

Draco Malfoy was thoroughly confused by the black-haired boy's behavior. Harry had not said one single malicious or even slightly unpleasant remark to him for nearly a month despite the nearly constant harassment on the blonde's part. A few times, Draco had even walked away feeling slightly ashamed of his behavior. For some reason unfathomable to Draco, Harry kept giving him these looks of disappointment - as if he was let down every time Draco said something uncharitable... as if he knew Draco was a better person than that. When he found himself trying to extract some hidden meaning from these looks, Draco generally took himself out to the Quidditch pitch to tire himself into thoughtlessness.

On one such Saturday afternoon, Draco found he had company on the pitch - Harry himself. Cursing under his breath, Draco landed and roughly set his brand-new Firebolt on his shoulder. As he began to storm back to the dungeons in a rage, a voice called him back.

"Hey Malfoy - you want to play a game of Quidditch?" Draco turned back around, prepared to verbally abuse the Gryffindor for intruding on his private time. The challenging smirk on Harry's face changed everything.

"You're on," he replied simply. Harry gave him a grin full of... something, and shot into the air. Draco followed wordlessly, watching as Harry pulled a snitch out of an inner breast pocket of his robes. He held it between them as they hovered.

"First to catch it wins. As the challenged, would you like to name the stakes?" Harry asked. Draco smirked provocatively.

"Whoever wins gets one question," he replied. "Just one, but the other must answer truthfully."

Harry grinned. He pulled his wand out of another inner robe pocket and held it upside down, with the grip pointing toward Draco. The blonde raised an inquisitive eyebrow and did the same, tapping the end of his wand to the other boy's and pocketing it again.

"Where did you learn that particular tradition? It's rather old, and pureblooded at that," he asked before he could stop himself. Harry smiled at him and released the snitch.

"Tsk, tsk, Draco. You don't get to ask a question until you win. Let's go."

For the next hour and a half, the two seekers put all of their considerable skill into catching the elusive gilt ball. Four times they were racing neck-in-neck after the tricky little ball, but each time it managed to get away for long enough for them to lose sight of it. When Harry had finally decided it was getting ridiculous and steeled himself to a forfeit, he sighted the snitch. It was almost exactly halfway between the two seekers in the center of the field.

Harry looked at Draco to see if he had seen it, to see that the blonde had and was looking at him to see if he had seen it. A defiant came look into the Slytherin's eyes, and then he was off. Harry wasted no time in speeding toward him.

As his fingers curled gratifyingly around the snitch, Draco realized too little too late that he was on a collision course with his opponent. His eyes widened, and Harry's mouth opened. He said something, a spell from the sound of it, and suddenly Draco's stomach dropped. His brand-new broom had stopped working.

Draco didn't even have time to whip out his wand before Harry had dived, grabbed him, and settled the blonde in front of him on his broom in an extremely suggestive position.

Harry stared right into Draco's eyes. Draco straddled the broom, facing Harry, with Harry's arms around his waist in order to hold onto the broom handle behind him. Their chests were touching, and Draco's legs were thrown over Harry's and around his hips.

"What are you doing?" Draco breathed, slightly stunned by his brooms malfunction and Harry's quick recovery. Before he could realize he had just wasted his question, Harry's lips were upon his own, soft and warm. The Gryffindor pulled away momentarily to look deeply into a pair of confused silver eyes.

"Kissing you." He then proceeded to do just that, in an expertly and enormously pleasurable way.

Draco's head yanked back violently, his eyes wide and panicky. His weight immediately forced the broom down into a dive. Draco instinctively threw himself forward again to right the imbalance, finding himself in another searing kiss. He pulled away again more slowly.

"What the bloody fucking hell do you think you're doing, Potter?!" he yelled, scooting back on the broom. "You can't go and... you just... stop laughing, you lecher!" Harry sighed and shook his head as if he was dealing with an unreasonable child.

"I was kissing you. Haven't you ever been kissed before, Draco?" he asked impishly. "Or do you just need some more persuasion?" Harry yanked the broom upward, sending Draco crashing into him. He stole another kiss, snaking a hand inside of the other boy's robes to draw little circles in Draco's lower back with gentle fingertips. Harry smiled into their kiss when an unconscious groan came from Draco's throat. Draco pulled back again.

"I'll tell you what, Potter," Draco said thickly, his eyes dark and serious. "If we can relocate to a more private place, I'll allow you to try to persuade me a bit more."

Harry laughed and swiftly pushed the broom into a dive, causing Draco to clutch onto him for support. He accio'd Draco's broom and headed for the deserted Gryffindor locker rooms.

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