I know, I know. Naughty me! It's been forever and ages since my last update! I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But look! Here comes one now!!! (Looking for a beta if anyone is interested!)
Full story summary can be found in Chapter One : Friendly Ties.
(Characters owned by JKR)
Chapter Seven : Hesitation
Harry slid his fingers through Draco's silky blonde hair, fisting at the nape of his neck and drawing his lips closer. The dull ache of before had become a raging inferno that had to be quenched, and the other boy was a draught of the coolest spring. He crushed his lips against Draco's forcing his tongue between his teeth, savoring the unique flavor of his former enemy.
He didn't notice Draco's hands against his chest or the fact that he was no longer responding to the kiss. All Harry could think about is how much he was enjoying himself. Then, he tasted a saltiness he couldn't explain. He opened his eyes to find Draco's clenched tightly shut, moisture clinging to his lashes. That stopped Harry in his tracks. He drew back slightly, his eyes never leaving Draco's face. The first time he had been able to gain Draco's trust and he had already screwed it up.
"Drake…" he asked tentatively, whispering the word.
He received no response, so he tried again. Draco's eyelids slowly lifted. The sight of him broke Harry's heart. His mouth was swollen and red from the stubble on Harry's cheeks. His eyes were nearly bruised and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. He mentally slapped himself. This relationship would be unlike any that he had experienced before. Draco had to be treated with a gentle hand.
"Drake," he whispered, "I'm sorry. I… I'm not used to feeling this way."
Draco simply stared back at him, his eyes betraying no emotion. His face remained carefully expressionless. Harry slowly reached forward to trace the blonde's sore, swollen lips with the tips of his fingers. Harry sighed. He could think of no way to melt the ice in Draco's stare. It was then that he decided perhaps he should have spent more of his life thinking of other people, and less of himself. Perhaps then he would know what to say to him.
"Feeling what way, exactly?"
Draco steeled himself for the answer. Aroused. Lust. Attraction. Any of those words were the ones he expected to pour from Harry's lips. Harry winced at the cold formality in which Draco asked. He thought he might just be imagining the hope in Draco's eyes. He was no good at this. What was he thinking?
"Just forget it, Malfoy. I'll see you around."
With that, Harry stood, leaving a shell-shocked Draco gaping up him. He placed one foot in front of the other, forcing himself to move. He had nearly passed Draco completely before his hand shot out and grasped Harry by the wrist. His slim fingers dug almost painfully into his skin.
"No."
"Malfoy, what the bloody devil do you think you are doing? Take your hand off me this instant!"
Harry struggled to wrench his wrist from Draco's grasp. He was taller, and certainly more well muscled, than the blonde, but there was a fierceness in him that he couldn't compete with.
"No."
"What the blazes do you mean, no?"
"I'm not letting you do this."
Harry sighed, exasperated. He would later realize that at that moment, Draco had released his grip. He stood, stepping closer to the raven-haired boy, gray eyes meeting green with an unimagined curiosity.
"Do what?"
Harry's voice betrayed him by coming out in a whisper.
"You were going to tell me something real. You were finally going to open up to me. I'm not letting you leave without telling me what it was, even if it was just how much you want to fuck me. I give you all of my secrets and tell you more about me than even some of my closest friends know, yes, even George."
They both winced at the sound of his name coming from Draco's lips. Suddenly, that intensity was gone and back was the broken boy from before. He stalked over to the couch, and sat heavily upon it, determined not to cry anymore. He failed miserably. Harry could hardly make out the sentence he choked out between his tears.
"Just go, Potter. Leave me alone."
Harry stood, halfway between the doorway and the couch, torn between the two directions. He guessed that he shouldn't really be surprised by Draco's words. After all, he had seen that exchange between Blaise and himself. What would possibly make him think he was after anything else but that? He moved carefully toward the couch, and found himself talking to the back of Draco's head.
"I… Oh, for fuck's sake. I think I am falling for you Drake. I don't even know what it means. It's never been like this for me. I'm Harry bloody Potter! I don't care about anyone."
Harry's voice grew louder and louder with each exclamation. Then suddenly he was quiet again.
"But if that is true… Why can't I get you out of my head?"
Draco slowly turned to face Harry who noticed his tears weren't falling so fast anymore.
"Should I give him a chance to explain, Fred?"
Fred looked up at his twin, a mirror image of himself. His mind had been miles away, but the sound of his name brought him out of his reverie. Even so, he didn't have to ask George who he meant. The git had hurt his other half.
"Honestly, mate, I don't see what good it will do. The prat cheated on you."
He wondered, briefly, if that was the answer he should have given. After all, George was so happy with Drake. They had made the perfect couple. Fred couldn't deny the fact that he had always been jealous of the time Draco had taken away from his twin and himself. He figured it was completely normal. They were brothers, after all, and before Draco had come along, they had spent every waking minute with one another. He missed the closeness, is all, right? He was saved from his train of thought as Draco rounded the corner. Tears sprang immediately to his eyes when he saw George. Fred could see the hurt in George's eyes as he turned away. He turned to face Draco.
"George! George, please! Just talk to me," Draco pleaded.
Fred saw George's steps falter and knew that he had to say something to keep him walking away from the man who claimed to love him. There was some part of his mind that told him he was being selfish, but he firmly pushed that thought aside. He knew this was for the best.
"He doesn't want to talk to you. You made the choice and now you have to live with it," he told Draco.
Draco didn't seem to get the hint and took another step forward. He wasn't even focused on Fred. He was looking past him at George's slumped shoulders. Fred put his palms against Draco's chest, softly pushing him away.
"Draco, it's over. Leave George alone," he whispered.
He couldn't help but pity the fool. They had been so in love. He had screwed things up royally and lost the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. Still, his loyalties lay elsewhere. He slid his fingers between George's as Draco's sobs echoed all around them in the stone hallway. Fred took a step forward and George followed suit, leaning heavily on his brother as he started to cry. Fred released his grip on George's hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He knew that George wouldn't be able to make it all the way to the Gryffindor tower. Each step that took him from Draco seemed like torture. Fred finally guided him into an empty classroom where the two curled up in a corner, George buried his head in Fred's chest and he finally let himself cry.
Fred simply stroked his hair, held him close and tried to hold back his own tears. It hurt him that someone so close to him was hurting so badly. He pressed his lips to his brother's hair, doing his best to comfort him when a thousand thoughts and feelings came unbidden to his mind.
Draco climbed slowly back through the portrait hole leading to their common room. He was so confused. He was still so broken over what had happened with George, but there was something.. A spark. There was a tiny bit of light left in his stormy eyes, and the Boy Who Lived was the one who put it there. What did that mean, exactly? Draco wouldn't have much time to think about it. He was stopped short by the sight that greeted him in the common room. Hermione stood slightly away from the fire, a worried look on her face. She looked like she wanted to reach out and take Draco in her arms so that she could soothe away the pain her best friend was feeling. Of course, that is not was stopped Draco dead in his tracks. It was what was holding Hermione back. Ron, his best friend, was red in the face and seething with anger. That was the last thing Draco remembered seeing before Ron's fist connected with the side of his face. He heard Hermione scream and everything went black.
Draco and Harry? What is going through Fred's mind? And does Ron have such a bloody temper?! Please review!!!
