Chapter 4

Year 6

"You were going to ask me?" asked Ron.

"Yes," said Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you'd rather I hooked up with Mclaggen…"

"No, I wouldn't," said Ron, in a very quiet voice. Harry promptly smashed the bowl he was holding as he attempted to squeeze out the juice from a Snargaluff pod. They were in Herbology and Harry was trying to tune out an awkward conversation between his best friends. Hermione had been about to ask Ron to attend Professor Slughorn's Christmas party, but the whole exchange had not gone as planned.

"Reparo," Harry said hastily. The sound of the bowl shattering had awoken Ron and Hermione to Harry's presence and Hermione, now a little flustered, suggested that they get back to work. Harry's mind wandered, as it usually did in class. He considered the possibility of his best friends pursuing a relationship, and all the consequences that could have on their friendship. At least they could openly pursue a relationship he thought bitterly. He would never have that option with Malfoy. They had spent quite a bit of time together the year before, although he hadn't seen him as much this year. Harry had tried to accept the fact that they could never have a true and honest relationship. He had even found himself attracted to Cho Chang, although currently they were too embarrassed to even look at each other. Truthfully, Harry could not imagine himself out in public with Malfoy, doing things that couples did. He didn't really think they were a couple, actually. However, he couldn't help thinking about what it would be like under different circumstances. Circumstances in which Draco's father wasn't a Death Eater and the boy wasn't a stuck up, spoiled brat. But when classroom boredom set in Harry almost always found himself reminiscing about some of the more intimate times he and Malfoy had shared the year before…

Year 5

Harry was always pleased to return to Hogwarts, but the events that had happened over the summer had been so stressful that this year he was even more relieved than previous years. Between his near expulsion and the discovery that a secret organization of wizards was using his godfather's house as headquarters, he was ready to return to the normalcy of school. Not that he had ever had a normal year at Hogwarts. Harry also couldn't escape the fact that he was excited to see a particular person.

They arrived at the Great Hall and almost immediately, as if to prove to Harry that an unexciting year at Hogwarts was unattainable, the Sorting Hat sung an unusual song. The muttering of students around them alerted Harry to the fact that they were as surprised at the hat's advice as he was.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.

'Yes, indeed," said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably. "The hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels—" He was cut off as Professor McGonagall began to sort the first years into their houses. They watched and clapped accordingly as the line of first years dwindled and the students went to sit at their assigned tables.

"What were you saying before the Sorting?" Hermione asked the ghost when it was finished. "About the hat giving warnings?"

"Oh, yes," said Nick. "Yes, I have heard the hat give special warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."

"How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?" Ron asked.

"I have no idea," said Nearly Headless Nick. "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

"And it wants all the Houses to be friends?" Harry asked, looking over at the Slytherin table wistfully. Draco Malfoy was laughing at something with his friends and Harry wished fiercely that they were alone in the moonlit corridor. Draco caught his eye and winked before turning back to his conversation. Harry, remembering that he was in the middle of his own conversation, shook away the less than innocent thoughts that had crept into his mind. "Fat chance," he said, trying to mask his lust with disdain. The rest of dinner was eventful enough to push the thought of Draco away. The new professor, the one covered head to toe in violently pink shades, gave a long and slightly annoying speech after interrupting Dumbledore with a soft cough. Umbridge's speech didn't worry him as much as it did Hermione.

After Ron and Hermione had left him to perform their Prefect duties and the verbal assault from Seamus he had received, finally slipping under the covers that night was a relief. He was much too wound up from his fight with Seamus to fall asleep, however, and the lingering memory of Draco's smirk at dinner compelled him to silently push back the drapes of his four poster. He knew Draco would be waiting for him. The dormitory was quiet aside from the occasional snore or mutter.

Harry slipped his invisibility cloak around him and began to make his way towards the corridor. He had no trouble finding it; in fact, his feet seemed to lead him there of their own volition. He took a deep breath before putting his fingers to the door handle in front of him and pushing it open with a soft creak. Draco was leaning against the wall next to one of the windows on the opposite wall. His head turned towards the door as it opened and his lips spread into a smile even before Harry removed his cloak. Harry noticed that Draco was holding a soft, downy pillow and a dark green blanket in his arms. He raised his eyebrows and looked inquisitively at the objects. Draco shrugged.

"I figured it would make the cold a little more bearable," he said. Harry smiled slightly.

"How thoughtful of you."

"I'm quite a thoughtful person." Harry had to laugh at that. He wasn't sure he'd ever heard something so far from the truth. A strange feeling overcame him unexpectedly, and he suddenly couldn't stop himself from rushing forward and throwing his arms around Draco. He dropped the blanket and pillow with a soft noise of surprise and let his hands hover awkwardly for a moment before committing to sliding them around Harry's back. "Have a bad day?" he asked. Harry snorted. Perhaps he was thoughtful after all.

"I've had a bad few months," he said, sourly. He pulled away slowly and looked up at Draco, a coy smirk playing on his face. "But I think I know what would make it better." Draco slid his hands up to Harry's face and pulled him in for a kiss. The gentleness and familiarity left Harry feeling better immediately. Wordlessly they broke apart and Draco bent down to pick up the pillow and blanket from the floor. They then walked hand in hand towards the broom cupboard. Harry pushed open the door when they arrived; it was never locked.

"Lumos," he whispered to his wand, illuminating the small space. He was certain that the broom cupboard was rarely ever used, since nothing looked like it had been touched since Draco and he had begun frequenting it 3 years ago. Draco shut the door behind them and shuffled past Harry to the back of the cupboard. He produced something from his pocket and placed it on a broken wooden crate that rested against the stone wall. Harry moved his wand so that he could see. It was a candle. Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at the wax cylinder. The small wick lit up instantly. Harry was surprised that Draco could cast nonverbal spells already, but not as surprised as he was at the fact that he had brought a candle. Draco turned around and Harry stared at him, incredulous.

'What?" said Malfoy. Harry just shook his head and extinguished the light from his wand, letting the dim glow of the candle douse the room in a soft, warm glow. Draco spread out the blanket on the floor and sat down on top of it. The yellow light from the candle made his hair look more gold than white, and lent his pale skin a subtle radiance. He patted a long fingered hand on the blanket next to him, gesturing for Harry to join him. Harry obliged, setting his invisibility cloak off to the side. The blanket wasn't doing much to disguise the cold, hard floor underneath.

"We really should find somewhere a bit more pleasant," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Really? And I put all this effort in," Draco said, turning a corner of his mouth up. "I'm hurt, Potter." Harry glared at him halfheartedly, but in truth, he really was quite impressed with what Malfoy had done. It seemed very out of character, and was actually a bit alarming.

"About that," Harry said. "Why did you do all this?"

"I told you," replied Draco. "I just wanted to make it more pleasant, even if it's not by much." Harry cleared his throat.

"Well, er…thanks," he said. Draco just nodded and fell backwards onto the pillow. He was wearing silk pajamas as usual and Harry trailed a finger down the smooth surface of Draco's chest. He sat up into a crouch and slid on top of him, putting one knee on either side of Malfoy's hips and leaned down for a kiss. Draco's hands skimmed up Harry's arms and shoulders and up to his head, entwining his fingers in Harry's hair. Their kiss was deep, warm, and silky. Harry pushed his hips down on top of Draco's and circled slowly, eliciting a soft gasp from the boy's lips. Draco reached up to remove Harry's shirt. Their kiss paused long enough for it to slip off of Harry's head and be tossed to the side. Harry felt himself becoming anxious, almost ravenous and he pushed a couple of fingers into the spaces between the button's on Draco's shirt before pulling and popping them all off. Draco pulled away for a moment and looked at him. Harry thought for a moment that he was mad that Harry had ruined his pajamas, but the look in Draco's eyes was more of surprise, and lust. Harry was sure Draco had enough money to buy millions of new pajama tops anyway. Draco roughly rolled Harry over onto his back and straddled his hips as he flung off his ruined shirt.

"I liked that pajama top," he said, his voice husky and breathless.

"You can buy another one," Harry panted.

"True." Draco planted a wild kiss on his mouth before promptly removing Harry's pants and boxers. Harry no longer felt the need to protest has he had in previous years. Instead, he let out a groan as Draco's lips closed around him. Without stopping, Draco's hand flew up to cover Harry's mouth, which Harry found strangely arousing. However, he knew that they could not be found like this. He groped for his wand with one hand while the other hand found itself wrapped in Draco's hair. He pointed his wand unsteadily at the door.

"Mmm—mm—muffilato," he rasped. He let his wand clatter to the floor. At least now no one would hear them if they happened to pass by the broom cupboard, particularly Filch. Draco resurfaced for air and brought his lips to Harry's again.

"Your turn," he whispered against them.

"What?" Harry protested. "But I didn't even—"

"Just do it." Harry glared at him through the dark, but figured it was the least he could do since Draco made an effort to make the night a bit more special than usual. He slid Draco's pants off slowly, and took time to unhurriedly kiss his legs and thighs. He didn't have to be too nice, he figured. Draco was practically panting with anticipation and Harry finally gave up trying to tease him. He slipped his mouth over Malfoy and heard the other boy let out a soft whimper. After a few moments, Draco stopped him and pulled him up towards his mouth. They kissed softly, bodies held close together against the cold. Draco kissed Harry's cheek once, gently.

"Turn over," he whispered. Harry pulled back sharply to look at him.

"What?" he said, alarmed.

"Why must you always argue with me?" Draco grabbed Harry's waist and flipped him over onto his stomach, pulling his hips upwards and letting him rest on his elbows and knees. He spread Harry's legs apart a bit and kneeled in between them. Harry did not even have time to protest, although he most definitely wanted to this time.

"Malfoy, what—" was all the got out before Draco grabbed tightly onto his hips and slid inside him. It was a sensation that Harry had never experienced before, a sort of pleasurable pain that was unlike anything he had ever felt. He pushed his face into the soft pillow and tried to hold in the moans that wanted to escape with every thrust. Draco was breathing heavily behind him, and both he and Harry were slick with sweat. Draco grabbed the back of Harry's hair, and yanked his head up roughly. Harry couldn't hold back the groan that escaped from his lips.

"Draco," he whispered. He didn't know why. He wasn't sure he had ever called the boy by his first name before, or that he had even heard him say it. Malfoy let go of his hair and Harry let his head fall back onto the pillow. Draco's hand slid down Harry's back and then around to his stomach… and then down further. He took Harry into his hand and worked expertly with the perfect pressure and movements. Harry wasn't sure he could last much longer. He let himself become enveloped in the moment, the perfect blend of pain and ecstasy and no longer bothered trying to conceal his gasps of pleasure. He almost convulsed with delight as Draco's fingers led him to his climax. Malfoy's fingers on Harry's hips digging deep into his skin signaled his as well, and they both collapsed onto the blanket, breathless. They said nothing for a long moment, just stayed in each other's arms, trying to catch their breath.

The candle burned down to a small nub as they lay there, breathing slowly, possibly even dozing off. Harry felt a surreal sense of peace settle over him as Draco's warm skin pressed against him, one arm draped lazily over his chest. The small white hairs on his arm glinted in the almost extinguished light from the candle. Draco sighed once and planted a kiss on Harry's cheek before he sat up and groped for his silk pajama bottoms. Harry reluctantly pulled on his own clothes and grabbed his invisibility cloak.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you to your dorm under this?" he gestured to the cloak. Draco shook his head.

"I've never been caught before," he said, smiling. "I'll see you later, Potter." He slipped out of the cupboard with his pillow and blanket, into the moonlit corridor. Harry blew out the candle and considered for a moment if he should leave it there or not. He decided he would, since obviously no one ever used the cupboard but them. He threw his cloak around him and stepped into the hallway. Draco was already gone, of course, and Harry hurried quickly back to his dorm, a small smile on his lips. He was exhausted and fell quickly into a dreamless sleep, for once.

Year 6

Looking back on that night, Harry concluded that it was the most gentle Draco had ever been with him. Their following encounters that year had seem to leave Harry with bruises and finger nail marks on his skin. He had on numerous occasions had to make up stories when Ron noticed, usually blaming the wounds on Quidditch or an aggressive owl up in the Owlery. Ron always seemed a bit suspicious, but he never pressed the matter. Harry did not want to think about Ron's reaction if he were to discover the truth. However, there hadn't been much to hide from anyone over the course of their 6th year so far. Harry had barely seen Draco, save for a meeting once or twice in the broom cupboard. Even then Malfoy was acting strange; he refused to take off his shirt and he seemed distant. He had been avoiding Harry as much as he could and the glimpses that Harry caught of him showed him to look thin and worn. Harry was concerned, and more than a little suspicious of Draco's activities. Although they had shared many intimate moments over the years, Harry could not let himself forget where the boy came from. He knew he needed to confront him, a conversation he was dreading to have, and also one that would be difficult to make happen. He had heard a rumor that Malfoy had been frequenting Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He wasn't sure if it was true or not, but he thought it would be a good place to start. He needed to find out what was going on, one way or another.