A/N: And the relationship progresses rather quickly, I might say. There will be more Ginny+Hermione in the chapters to come, much more Slash as well, and and increasing amount of Godelot, as well. Ron's time will come, eventually. :) Please Read, Review and Enjoy!

Chapter Seven
Losing Control

'Merlin, what have I done?

I do believe you willingly snogged Draco.

Malfoy. And why the bloody hell would I do something so idiotic?

I thought we already answered this...he's pretty.

Malfoy and pretty should never appear in the same sentence.

Draco. And you can't help that he's good looking, it's genetics.

Tch. He's from the most foul gene pool I've ever known.

Really? Since when was he a Dursley?'

Harry found himself laughing at his last thought, his head was hung and felt as though it was spinning as he was retreating quickly to the dormitory. He wondered if the other boys wouldn't mind if he locked them out of it for a few hours, most would be heading to dinner soon any way. He definitely couldn't face the Great Hall, especially when he knew who else would be sitting not far from him at his table. The thought of being in close proximity to Draco again had him shivering.

'He was right, you know. You really can't control yourself around him.

I hate to admit, but you're both right there. But why the hell can't I? It's just Malfoy.

Because it's always been Malfoy. Since that day in Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, since he tried to shake your hand, since he duelled you...he knows you, more than you know yourself. You know him, too, more than you let on. You know what makes him tick, you know what makes him smile - even when you hated him.

Still, I've known Ron like that just as long.

It's not the same. He's not the same. He intrigues you, he bothers you and tantalizes you.

But why?

Like I said, because he's pretty. Oh, and maybe because you like-'

Harry sneered at his own thoughts and was slamming the door to his dormitory now, pushing out what he was about to say to himself. As much as he hated the truth, which he did with a venomous passion, Draco and his own thoughts had been correct. He simply could not, could never, control himself around the ex-Slytherin. It was the opposite effect most others had on him. As he lay on his bed, his thoughts were dragged back to Malfoy's notes on the Tales of Beedle the Bard, specifically about the Warlock's Hairy Heart. Why had Malfoy thanked Harry specifically for the change in him after the Final Battle? And since when did Draco thank him for snogging him in an abandoned corridor? With his thoughts reverted to what he had just done, a blush ran over his body and he began to feel warm. Those lips, that soft hair, the way his hands felt strong against his body, his fingers smooth yet certain. It was nothing like what he had shared with Ginny, not even close, and he found himself melting into just the thought of it. Oh, how it weakened him to his core. 'I want to feel that again-'

"Ah! What the fuck!" Harry swore, interrupting what would have been another internal argument with himself.

His chest had begun to burn, sear as if a hot branding iron had been pressed against his skin. He reached into his shirt and grabbed the key around his neck, he hissed when it burnt his hand. He threw it the floor, growling as he did. Harry unclasped his cloak, opened his shirt and looked down at the burn mark now left in the shape of the key against his skin. He traced his finger on the burnt skin, reddened and swollen. "You have got to be kidding me..."

The door to the dormitory swung open, there stood Ron, looking confused and concerned. "Are you alright, mate? We heard you down stairs, what happened?" Ron saw the burn on his skin, the key lying on the floor before his friend.

"My bloody key," Harry mumbled, he hissed again as his finger ran over a sensitive spot on his chest. Ron came over to investigate.

"That looks painful, mate. Maybe you should go to Madame Pomfrey, ask her to heal that up for you," he shook his head at the burn.

"I'd rather not have to explain it to her how it happened,"

"Well, 'Mione can probably-"

"It's not that bad, I'll live," to be honest, Harry didn't want to have to explain what had happened to anybody.

"It's on your hand, too mate, what did your key do?" Ron asked, he knew Harry kept his trunk hidden to himself, he had stopped questioning why knowing he would get nowhere with it, but he wasn't completely understanding of why his key was so special, too.

Harry was looking curiously at his hand now, it was also swollen and red but not burnt as badly as his chest. "Just a stupid charm I placed on it, s'all. I'll be fine, really, it just surprised me,"

Ron raised his eyebrow as Harry buttoned up his cloak, turning away from him now as he made his way to his bedside, placing his books away. Ron bent down to retrieve the key from the floor, Harry was quick to stop him, "Ron, no! Don't touch it, it'll-"

It was too late, Ron had reached out and merely grazed the iron, he yelped and pulled his hand back, babying his finger-tips. "Harry, what did you do to that key?" his friend flushed and turned around, "I get it, we all want privacy, I don't care what you have in that trunk, any more, I know you need to keep it to yourself and all but when whatever it is your hiding is hurting you like this-"

"Ron, like I said, it's just a charm I placed on it,"

"What kind of charm makes a key hurt you?" Ron returned haughtily.

Harry sighed, sitting now on the edge of his bed, Ron walked over, sitting down beside him. "I want to tell you Ron, I do, but you're one of my only friends. You're my best friend. I don't want you to hate me," he admitted at last.

Ron was laughing now, "Mate, there isn't a thing you could tell me that'd make me hate you,"

'Oh, I bet there is,' "My key. It's kind of...attached to me. It's loyal. I did a personalized trusting charm, it only allows those I trust to touch it,"

"Oh," Ron took a moment, thinking, "Harry, from what I recall unless you do that silly incantation that key won't let anybody touch it,"

'Shows what you know,' Harry was shaking his head, begging his thoughts to disappear, "Yeah, well, it won't let me touch it either, now,"

"That doesn't make any sense, mate. How can you not trust yourself?" Ron quipped, Harry was surprised he didn't seem the least bit concerned with how Harry felt towards him, mistrusting. Ron had always been an understanding guy when it came to him, a true friend. Harry appreciated it. But for the answer to his question, Harry knew it all too well.

"Dunno, mate. It's messed up, ain't it?" Harry replied. They sat in equal silence for a moment, Harry felt exceedingly uncomfortable as the pain from his burns slowly receded.

"Up for a game of Exploding Snap?" Ron finally broke the silence, he didn't sound terribly hopeful but he knew any questions he might have would go unanswered, he knew Harry needed space when it came to his private affairs; it had been that way since the Final Battle and so as the friend he was, he gave it to him.

"Yeah, sure,"

"Really?" Ron was genuinely surprised, they hadn't played since Sixth Year, "Alright, let me go and get the cards!" he jumped up too excitedly from the bed and rushed out of the dormitory.

Harry sighed, he rubbed his temples for a moment before reaching into his bedside drawer and retrieving his old wand. The wand that had no master. He hated the way it felt between his fingers, the way his magic rejected it. It never felt right, but he used it when he had to. He pointed it at the key, levitating it without a word and he found himself reluctantly placing it where he never thought he would. He was quick to write a note, scribbled on a ripped off bit of parchment, placing it along side the key now hidden from view. Ron didn't seem to notice when he came back up to the room, excited to play Exploding Snap, that the key was gone and Harry looked ten times more nervous than he had before.

That evening when Draco finally brought himself to bed after dinner, he was both surprised and intrigued at what he had found inside his bedside drawer, though he couldn't help but fall asleep smiling, facing Harry's already drawn curtains about his bed. As he slept, his one hand held the bit of parchment and Harry's key fell heavy against his slowly rising chest.

'It no longer trusts me. Fix it, Malfoy. Don't you dare leave it out of your sight for a moment and if I ever find you in my trunk without my permission I will personally wring your neck with my bare hands,'

XXXXXXXXXX

Three days had passed and Harry still hadn't seen glimpse of his key. He was frightened that maybe Malfoy had surrendered it to Godelot but then again, the key would refuse to be touched by somebody who was not trusted. He knew it was the right thing to do, he certainly couldn't keep an eye on it himself when it refused to see him as its Master any more. He felt naked without it about his naked, he felt unguarded and unsafe. He jumped a little too easily, even when Ron's knight would slash through his pawns during Wizard's Chess, he would jump out of his skin. He couldn't bear to be so unconnected to the Hallows, he felt as though he was leaving them to fend for themselves. Against Malfoy. What a sour situation he had gotten himself into.

Thankfully, over those three days, he had carefully and almost professionally avoided the blond. They certainly shared a room but Harry ensured he was always in bed before or after the blond, he avoided his steely gaze in the Great Hall and distracted himself with animated conversation with his friends. Ron couldn't be happier, it was almost as if he had gotten the old Harry back momentarily, of course there were moments when he would drift into silent thought, but he was still interacting with him, playing games and sneering about assignments. It was Christmas Eve morning when it happened, when Harry was finally approached. He knew it would happen sooner or later, he just wished it was much later than it was.

"Good morning, Harry," the voice sounded silken as he was risen from his dreamless sleep. Harry blinked his eyes once. Then again. He had to be imagining the head that floated over top of him as he woke.

When he fully came to, he jumped up into the sitting position, narrowing his eyes at Malfoy who was chuckling lowly. "Calm down, I am not going to kill you,"

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry spat, he certainly didn't like being woken like this.

"Draco. I think we should talk,"

"We have nothing to talk about," Harry shortly responded, avoiding those eyes as he slid out of bed.

"Oh?" Draco was raising his brow now in that same aristocratic manner he always had, Harry avoided looking at him as much as possible, "You have been quite difficult to catch alone, lately. One would almost think as if you are trying to avoid me,"

"Really, you don't say," Harry mumbled sarcastically beneath his breath. He was busying himself with making his bed, something he rarely did, as Draco watched in bemusement.

"Come on Harry," Draco was speaking softly, his fingers were wound around the chain about his neck, it usually lie hidden beneath his cloak yet for now, he let it be seen. Harry paused at the sound of his name, gods how he couldn't think straight when Malfoy said it in that softened manner. "Harry," he pressed on.

Harry turned around, his face beet red and fists clenched at his sides, "Stop calling me that," he sputtered.

Draco was quick, perhaps it was his training as a Seeker that made him react so fast, but Harry couldn't understand how he had gotten from one side of his bed to the other, gripping his shoulders and throwing him against his bed post. Harry hissed, it hurt his back and most certainly bruised, he was about to swear but found he had lost the courage to as he finally met Draco's gaze with his own. It was that same breathless look, bearing down at him, looking into him. "is that not your given name, Harry?" his voice was so low, it snaked into Harry who found himself closing his eyes.

How he was lost so easily, so quickly in the close vicinity was beyond him. But Harry found himself doing it yet again. Closing the distance. This time it surprised Draco, he hadn't been expected lips pressed against his own, this time more roughly than before. Harry was quick to grab a hold of the taller boy's shoulders, mirroring him, with his superior strength he flipped their positions. He pressed against Draco, his entire body against the boys hard, lean one whose back was now at the bed post. It took a few moments for Draco to respond but he eventually worked his lips against Harry's, he caught his lower lip into his mouth, he suckled it for a moment making a small moan escape Harry's throat. Just as it had the night before, he stirred Harry into reality as he shoved himself off of Malfoy, he was blushing furiously but at the same time glaring at the boy who was leaning, smirking against the post, his head relaxed and looking almost dreamily at the ceiling.

"As much as I enjoy snogging you, Harry, I really did want to talk,"

"Sod off, Malfoy,"

"Only after you listen,"

Harry sighed, turning his back and crossing his arms. "Fine, talk," and he looked for a moment to the dormitory door, "Silencio. Repagula," he silenced and locked the dormitory. Harry was grateful Ron had been understanding as he was before, he certainly didn't want to push him any further with whatever conversation he was about to partake in. Or listen to, rather.

"I have some discrepancies with your return to my notes. Though your response was sentimental at best, I have been brought to doubt your intellect entirely. Even you should not be so blinded by yourself to not see just how strong of a person you are, how much unlike the first two brother's you are. That I will surely make you see eventually, but you will have to come to accept it on your own time. And the Fountain, Harry, if you were to wish that I would wish for the Fountain to revert it," Harry was blushing heavily, he thanked the heavens Malfoy couldn't see his face, "What I really want to talk to you about is my 'hairy heart'," he laughed slightly, "Do you remember that night at my Manor, back in the last days of the War?"

"You mean when your bitch of an Aunt murdered Dobby?"

"The House-Elf? Yes, I understand you and he are somehow...friends...I apologize for my Aunt's behaviour. I apologize for her existence, for that matter. What I am referring to is the moment you changed me, Harry," Draco said seriously, "When they brought me in to question who you were, I saw what you were feeling. I could feel the foolhardy bravery in those eyes, the determination and the silent plea for my compliance. I knew immediately who you were, I had no doubts, but when I saw you there, I guess I fully grasped how foul the Dark Lord's motives truly were and how mad my Father must have been to follow him. Their main objective was to murder a boy. How utterly foolish, how useless in the illusive scheme of everything. How bloody pathetic it made them. Yet, what did that make you, that helpless boy before me that night? It made you everything they couldn't be and everything they couldn't touch. Everything I wanted to be. Though there wasn't much I could do at that time, I was already in too deep. I tried to make amends, in the Room of Requirement when Crabbe attacked you, and I confided in my Mother. She had more faith in you, as did I, then we did the Dark Lord. I know nothing can take back what I did back in Sixth Year, how I acted, what side was chosen for me in the War...but I wish there was something I could do. Though, that night at my Manor, when I saw you, it truly did save me from becoming like my Father," Draco breathed, finally taking a breath in his monologue.

The entire time, Harry was stuck to the spot on the floor, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He truly couldn't believe have of it. "They weren't foolish," he finally mumbled, "They needed to kill me. I was the only thing that stood in Voldemort's way of immortality,"

Draco raised his brow now, it was the last thing he expected Harry to respond on what he had said but it gave him hope; hope of a feeble forgiveness. "What do you mean? The Prophecy?" Upon Harry's nod, though he still wasn't facing him, Draco sighed, "Certainly now that it is fulfilled it should not bother you so-"

Harry turned on his heel, he looked ashen faced, his eyes immediately fell on the key twirling between Draco's fingers. It made him tremble. He spoke with a shaky breath, "It's never fulfilled. That piece of shit prophecy, it'll never leave me,"

With a knit brow, Draco walked slowly over to him, he reached out his hand and gently with the back of it ghosted across his cheek, dragging Harry's eyes from the key to his face, "Tell me, Harry, I don't quite understand what you mean,"

"Draco," Harry sighed, lowering his face, pushing the slender hand away from his face, the blond seemed lightened by the sound of his first name, "If you want to listen I'll tell you but please, don't touch me," Draco found himself smirking, though he tried to hide it, as he took a step back and nodded slowly, showing he was intent on listening. "The last part of the Prophecy, it states either must die at the hand of the other. There isn't another hand that can kill me, Draco. That includes my own. It includes Death itself. It will always elude me, even when I welcome it. That's why Voldemort wanted me dead, it would mean he could live forever. And no, I'm not sure of the parameters please don't ask, I don't know what a knife would do if it sliced my heart nor what the Killing Curse would do, but I believe that no matter what is done to me, I will be conscious somewhere...I can never join them,"

Draco came into realization of why Harry could view that as a bad thing; most others including himself would see that as simply wonderful. But Harry? The Boy Who Lived Twice already, perhaps he awaited Death impatiently because there were people there, souls, that meant more to him than the ones left on the Earth he wanted to be with again. Killing the Dark Lord vanquished that possibility. "Oh, Harry," he whispered finally, when their eyes met again Harry was surprised to see how genuinely pitiful Draco appeared to be, "You are too much like the Father. So self sacrificing-no, no it's not an insult, please. It's just another part of you I..." Draco decided it best not to complete his sentence, for both involved parties sakes.

Harry was blushing again, he cursed his body for giving his emotions away so easily. "Is that all, then?"

"When did you stop trusting yourself?" he asked quickly, he could sense Harry was about to lift his charms on the door and he didn't want him to, not yet.

"I-" Harry stopped, he brought himself to look seriously at Draco before him, "When I let myself lose all control,"

Draco smirked, almost triumphantly. "So it is due to myself that you can no longer trust yourself?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Harry muttered.

"But it is quite flattering, Harry. I must say you always trusted yourself with that little Weaselette,"

"Malfoy. Shut. Up," Harry growled dangerously, they were treading into waters he didn't wish to swim in, but now that Draco had seemed to say his bit he had ulterior motives in their conversation. Perhaps, this time, Harry could beat him to the embarrassment. "Since when did you think snogging me was in any way acceptable?"

Draco found it the opportune time to close the distance again, making Harry's breath stop and face fall, he grinned mirthfully, "If I recall correctly, it was always you doing the majority of the snogging, Harry," his skin crawled with pleasure at the others extreme and immediate discomfort, "I think you mean to ask when I wanted you to do it. Perhaps that night at the Manor, maybe since Madame Malkin's. Or First Year. Or maybe since I saw you again after the Final Battle. Or when you saved me in the Room of Requirement. I try not to question it too much, I tend to try to take what I want without so much useless thoughts attached to it. Kind of ruins the fun, doesn't it, Harry?"

"What do you want?" Harry found himself asking beneath his breath. 'You should run while you can. He's getting closer again, Merlin look at those lips they're so-'

"Whatever you want, Harry,"

"I want you to stay the bloody hell away from me, Malfoy," Harry snapped, but his voice was anything but threatening, so he turned to leave but Draco had quickly grabbed ahold of his wrist, yanking his body quickly against his. Harry looked up, shocked.

"You can lie to yourself all you want but you can never lie to me. So tell me, what do you really want, Harry?"

Draco was close enough to kiss again, his lips were hovering dangerously over Harry's who were trembling a great deal. This time Harry was fully aware of the situation he was in. He was not caught by surprise in the corridor, nor was he thrown up against a bed post and just waking from his deep sleep. Instead, out of voluntary notion, his arms snaked up Draco's body who sighed in response, Harry took a moment and a deep breath before he pressed his lips to Draco's for the second time that morning. After a few shared, chaste kisses, the blond found himself moaning again and Harry pulled back, though his arms did not move, Draco was certain he was going to run again but was surprised at the sound of Harry's hoarse voice instead of the absence.

"For whatever bloody reason, Draco, I want this," and Harry kissed him again, this time much more greedily than he had ever done. His mind was lost, he was feeling instead of thinking for the first time in a long time and by choice instead of by surprise. 'Harry, what have you gotten yourself into now? You are willingly, knowingly, snogging Draco Malfoy for the third time. There's absolutely no turning back now...'

'I will finally make you mine, Harry. All mine,'