CHAPTER 9
"Draco?" Harry started cautiously, knowing from the start that the talk was heading to no good.
"Mmm?" the blond was absorbed into reading his favourite Financial Times.
"You know, before long, we will have to leave this place."
Malfoy looked up from his paper, annoyed.
"Can't I stay?"
"You know perfectly well you can't." stated Harry.
Draco sighed, and cast his eyes down. "What do you suggest?"
"There's a possibility that you might end up at the Bur... At the Weasley's house."
"No!" the blond jumped up, tossing the newspaper aside. "No way will I go there!"
"Why?" tried to be calm Harry.
"Because... Because… I hate them! I absolutely despise them!"
"But what did they do to you?"
"They are blood traitors, but to me it doesn't matter anymore." He paused.
"What is it then?"
"What the matters is, is that they use you. The always have. They use you to achieve their means!"
"No one has achieved any other means with me but getting in trouble or killed!" Harry became angry.
"You just can't see it, Potter, because you are all goody-two-shoes, and think all people are like that. I can assure you – they are NOT!"
"What do you know of people, Malfoy, you spoiled brat, you've looked down on everyone since you were born!"
"I might have been, but it's better than to come to someone called Harry Potter and become his friends just because he is the Boy-Who-Lived!"
"That was what you were about to do back then!" reminded him Harry.
"To me, it was a matter of politeness!"
"Oh, that's what it was! Who would have thought, to me it seemed your goons just attacked us!"
"I hadn't known you were Harry Potter when I met you in Madam Malkin's shop back then! And I talked to you!"
"Ha, big deal!" huffed Harry.
"To me, it was! I'd never talked to a stranger before!" exclaimed the other and realising what he had just said, turned a deep shade of crimson.
Harry was confused. So it was Malfoy's first attempt at socializing back then? No wonder it turned out that poor…
"Fine," waved Harry off, not wanting to press the matter. "We'll let it be so far."
"No we won't," persisted Malfoy.
"Malfoy, just calm down and don't say anything you'll regret later!"
"I'll rather regret if I don't say it!" exclaimed Malfoy forcefully.
Harry crossed his arms on his chest.
"I just want you to know that the Weasleys – well, I don't hold anything against the elder siblings, they are probably all right, at least the Twins, they are freaks, but they … never mind, but the two youngest…"
"Malfoy, I warn you for the last time – I won't listen to your ravings", the dark-haired boy turned to leave. The Slytherin caught him by his shoulder and turned to face him.
"The Weasel uses you as his cover, if you only could hear him how he always says, wait till Potter gets you, and the girl, she's just a slut!"
Harry reacted in a moment; a mighty punch sent the injurer flying to the floor. After a second Harry was over him, hands clenching the throat, "Take. It. Back."
"No!" croaked the blond, "because it's true! She had it with every second boy in the school, there are legends about her."
Harry's mind went blank with rage, "Shut up", he shook the boy so he bumped the floor with a heavy thud.
"Do you know who was her first?" without cringing, continued the blond.
"Shut the fuck up!" Harry unclenched one hand, and brought it to the back of his jeans, where his wand was.
Fear flicked across Draco's features. Wand at the offender throat, backing off, Harry pressed, "Get the hell out of here."
"Nothing pains like the truth?" Malfoy sneered.
"Out, while you are still able to walk", the dark boy could hardly contain his rage.
Draco scrambled to his feet, "Fuck you, you fucking bigot! Marry that whore and have a heap of children, but beware, they might not even look like you!"
Harry cast a Stupefy, but Malfoy ducked and launched at him, disarming the rival. They rolled on the floor, punching each other viciously, Harry yelling, "Get the fuck out!", and Malfoy hissing, "No way, I'm too young to die!"
It was a wrestle for life or death. Neither of them restrained himself. Wand forgotten, they blew violent strokes, kicked, scratched, tore at clothes, blood spurted from their noses and mouths, but no one wanted to give up.
"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" a roar made them both stop in mid-motion.
"Look at yourself!" Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, face confronted with disgust. They indeed looked ridiculous. Faces covered in blood, clothes torn, arms scratched. "Fighting like guttersnipes, shame on you!"
They got to the feet, trying in vain to put their clothes in order. Neither of them dared to look up.
"I don't want to witness something like this again." Petunia's voice was sharp like a razor.
"Aunt," Harry found his voice. "He must get out."
"Potter," that moment Aunt Petunia sounded tremendously like Snape in the Potions Class, "give me a single reason why you must not, after ALL THIS", she waved around.
"This is my home and…"
"This is MY home, and just say another word, and you both will be out!"
The boys sank their heads.
"Now off you go, to your room, and I don't want to see or hear either of you till tomorrow morning!"
Malfoy nodded in sign of comprehension, and left. Harry hesitated a little, weighing whether he should continue arguing or not, decided that it was no good, and turned to leave.
"Potter", stopped him Aunt Petunia, "Didn't you say that sending the boy out will kill him?"
He nodded.
"Apologize."
Obediently, Harry started, "I'm sor…"
"Not to me, idiot! I don't know what the reason was, but surely, no reckless words must be punished with death. Off you go!"
She waved him away.
Harry headed for the bathroom first. He washed his face, blood dripping from his fingers, discovered, that by some miracle no irreparable damage was done, used some healing spells to prevent a sprouting black eye, and to stop nose bleeding, and reflected upon their row.
It hurt ever so more, because he felt Malfoy had been right. The worst was, the git had been right about Ginny. Harry cursed. He always thought he and Ginny were meant to be together, because it was only natural to marry best friend's sister, and become one big happy family. And Hermione would marry Ron, making the family even bigger and happier. He always took it as destined, that he and Ginny will end up together. He was kind of doomed to it, like he was doomed to fight Voldemort, no matter how hard he tried to escape it. But did he really want it? The more he looked, the more distinctly he saw, that he did everything to avoid her, and it didn't bother him at all. He conveniently used the excuse of his quest to distance himself from her. He didn't write letters, under the pretence that it might bring her in trouble. He never even dreamt of her since he left Hogwarts. So why had he been so mad at Malfoy? Probably out of malignance, he really sometimes had to vent his anger. Or simply out of habit. Or just because Malfoy had that special gift of getting under his skin. He didn't want to ponder over it any further, and headed back to his room, he indeed had to apologize.
Entering the room, he took a deep breath, staring at the floor, and shot out, "Imreallyverysorry!"
Then he finally dared to look up. Malfoy stood facing the window, hands clenching the windowsill, knuckles white – the sheer picture of despair. After a few second, which he probably used to compose himself, he uttered, "I wish I still could say 'fuck off, Potter' to this… But now… I don't know about you, but for me… things changed. I just want you to know… I've never ever valued anything, because I got everything I wanted. Before now. Now, I've learnt to value family – I lost mine, and I learnt to appreciate the substitute in the form of you and your Aunt. You might be mad at me, but for now, you are the only family I have. I've learnt to value freedom – being walled-up here for a rather long time. I've learnt of value life, my life, when I'm about to loose it, and the life of the other's, watching how you care for people, and last, but not the least, I've learnt to value you – because it's you my life depends on." He turned abruptly. "That is what I was going to tell you back then, but… it just got fucked up." Having said that, he headed for the door, striding past Harry.
The Gryffindor was so dumbstruck, that he didn't dare to look into the boy's face first. "Where are you going?" he exclaimed anxiously, finally giving his neighbour a closer look. Draco halted at the door.
"Bathroom," he said weakly, face still covered in drying blood. "I guess I've just said that I value my life." It was when Harry noticed tears shimmering in the boy's grey eyes.
"Don't", said Harry softly, not really sure what he meant. And after a second's hesitation, "Come", he opened his arms.
Draco didn't ponder long, and stepped into Harry's embrace. He pressed his face into his shoulder, and muttered between sobbings, "I'm so fucked up, Potter, you just cannot imagine how fucked up I am!"
"Now, now," the dark-haired boy patted him on the back, "The one fucked up over here is me." He cautiously cast a cleaning and some healing spells over the blond's face.
"Why life is so unfair to us, Potter, why? Why can't we live a normal life, have fun, like all the teens, why do we have to run, hide, fight, plot something, why aren't we even allowed to have a bit of love and privacy?"
Privacy… Come to think of it, Harry had it only with Malfoy, here in his small room, because no one knew about them, when all his previous actions had been common knowledge. Never ever he'd spent that much time just with one person, tête-à-tête. He smiled inwardly. Malfoy was his very private secret.
"What are you laughing at?" came the blond's irritated question. As usual, Harry couldn't contain his smile, and it shone brightly upon his face.
"I just thought we are having a lot of privacy over here."
"But not love," whispered Draco bitterly, locking his eyes with Harry's.
Harry felt overwhelmed by the shocking power of those words and the intensity of that gaze. He looked closely into those desperate grey eyes.
"Can we pretend that we are in love? Just for tonight, just this one time?" whispered the blond in a croaked, unsteady voice, eyes pleading. Noting that Harry's defence is flaking, he pressed, "It will be our very. Private. Secret." The last three words Draco emphasized with soft kisses along Harry's neck.
"Just one time?" wavered Harry.
"Yes. No one will know. And we can pretend nothing happened."
"Will you be able to?" doubted Harry.
"Never. But I won't hold grudges if you will."
With that, Draco assaulted Harry's lips. Harry felt warm, very warm, like the rays of sun hovering over his skin, but this tender warm quickly became little flames of desire blazing inside his body, as soon as Malfoy intensifies his efforts. Harry's head swam, but a troublesome idea bothered him, not allowing letting himself go.
He gently pushed his soon-to-be lover away. Answering his questioning look, he inquired, "And you are doing this not because I'm Harry-fucking-Potter, the-boy-who-lived?"
Malfoy smiled. Looking into those deep green eyes, he clarified:
"No. It's because you are the boy I talked to in Madam Malkin's shop. The boy whom I imagined to become my closest friend. Because you were the first person I estimated as my equal – before that I only knew inferiors and superiors. Because you made my blood boil and my mind race in the search of how I could surpass you at school. Because you saved me uncountable times. Besides…," he took a deep breath, exhausted from overflowing emotions.
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet," chanted he, slowly pressing Harry onto the bed.
"What was it?" wondered the boy.
"Shame on you, Potter, that was your William-fucking-Shakespeare. Don't you know him?"
But Harry wasn't up to a literary soiree. He drew Malfoy nearer and started kissing him in earnest.
It resembled a lot their fight not an hour ago, but instead of punching, tearing, scratching, there was kissing, licking, stroking. Harry felt intoxicated, his world was spinning and he couldn't remember when he'd felt so exhilarated for the last time, if he ever had at all.
Draco nearly came when Harry lowered himself to take his length into his mouth.
"No!" protested he, "I should be doing it!"
"Hadn't it been your secret fantasy for ages?" smiled Harry wickedly and licked the head. He was doing it for the first time, he himself experienced it only once with Ginny. He remembered how insulted she looked when he asked her where she had learned to do it. But he didn't linger on Ginny long, because Malfoy in ecstasy looked absolutely breathtaking. Too late Harry was alerted with "Oh Merlin I'm…", when the blond came right into his mouth. Harry spluttered and cursed.
"Sorry," panted the Slytherin, "it was just too much."
These words nearly send Harry over the edge. No one had ever been that excited by him.
"Now," naughty gleam in Malfoy's eyes foreboded something wicked, "Payback is a bitch."
And he mirrored Harry's previous actions, but when Harry was just about to come, he drew back and whispered, "Not yet, I want you to come inside of me". He should not have said it, because that very moment Harry came all over his abdomen.
"Fuck," growled they in unison.
"Sorry," echoed they each other after a short pause.
"Seems we'll have to start from the very beginning," sighed Harry.
"Are you sure you want to go all the way?" questioned Draco, concern in his voice.
"I should be asking you," retorted the green-eyed boy.
"I've wanted it for ages."
"Ages?" Harry goggled.
"And what did you think?" snorted Malfoy, silencing Harry with a deep kiss.
"Look," he whispered into Harry's ear. "Now comes the most difficult part. You will have to prepare me." Not letting him come to senses, he took the wand from the night stand and produced a lubrication spell over his and Harry's hands. Harry still goggled. Draco took his hand and guided it towards his bottom.
"You will have to slowly put two or three fingers into me and stretch me!" Harry looked shocked.
"If you cannot, I can do it myself" This idea sounded strangely appealing to Harry, he was instantly hard again, but he decided he would not back away from whatever came.
"Let me", the words came out very coarse, and the blond shuddered at the sound and at the following contact with slick cold skin of Harry's fingers.
After two fingers were in, Draco cringed. Harry watched him closely.
"Just continue", ordered him Draco. "Try to find the prostate. You should be able to reach it if you crook your finger…"
Harry seemed to have found that mysterious prostate, because Draco gave out a sound the boy had never heard before – a sound which send jolts of pleasure right through Harry's body to his groin.
"Yesssssssss," it almost sounded like Parseltongue.
Mesmerized, Harry froze.
"Do it again," urged him Malfoy.
So he did.
"Enough!" wailed Malfoy after a while. "I want you in me. Ready?"
Harry could only nod. He never could have imagined his first time would be something like this. And this was simply miraculous.
Without a moment's thought he pressed into that beautiful pliant body. Draco's face contorted a grimace.
"Does it hurt?" asked Harry worried, making an inhuman effort to hold still.
"Hurt? After what I came through – it's sheer pleasure!" And it was, after a moment, when Draco adjusted and Harry began moving.
Harry came suddenly, and it was so overwhelming that he lost the ability to hear and see and think for several seconds. When he came back to senses, he saw Malfoy bringing himself off. This wonderful sight took away his senses for another while, that's because he wasn't sure whether he heard or just imagined hearing "Love you". He didn't want to believe he heard it, because somehow it seemed too good to be true.
Exhausted, they lay in bed, too emotionally overstressed to be able to sleep.
"Does it mean I'm gay?" asked Harry feebly.
"Well, first time doesn't count. It probably just means that I'm irresistible for both genders," smiled the blond smugly.
Suddenly, Harry cursed himself, turned very red and muttered, "Malfoy, I'm really an idiot because I haven't asked it before… You… were you… I mean was it…"
"Potter, if it is your clumsy attempt to find out whether you "deflowered" me, so yes, you did. But in retrospect I haven't been completely virginal, so you don't have to marry me, if it is your concern."
Harry's blush deepened.
"What do you mean 'not completely virginal'?"
"Merlin's beard, Potter, I used to do it with girls!"
Harry's mouth formed a perfect O at this, and Malfoy couldn't help but laugh, "I even needn't ask whether I'm your first. But you did well." Harry was happy to hear that little praise. He planted a kiss onto chest, then something attracted his attention there and he stared intently.
"Malfoy, where do all those scars come from?" wondered Harry, tracing his fingers over the blond's marble chest, following long thin barely visible white lines, where must have been very deep slashes.
Malfoy's expression changed in an instant, become shut out and distant.
"You don't want to know, believe me".
"But I do! Who did it to you? I will…" Harry broke off, trying to decipher Draco's expression. Slowly, very slowly, realization dawned upon him. "No way!" He gulped, and recoiled, terrified. "No. Snape said there won't be any scarring…"
Instinctively, Draco drew the blanket over his naked chest and looked away. "There was… And there is… And they'll remain for the rest of my life," spat the boy bitterly.
"Draco, I'm… I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry I never said it earlier," repented Harry. How did they manage to avoid the unlucky encounter in that forgotten bathroom till now?
"It's OK. I was about to cast Cruciatus on you," Malfoy looked back, his face softened.
"But it's not lethal. And if Snape hadn't come by, you could have…"
"Forget it. Really, you saved me so many times already, that it doesn't count. Besides, I stomped on your face on the train, remember?"
"Malfoy, it was like another life, doesn't it feel that way?"
The boys fell silent. Because it really was another life. Hogwarts express, the school, the friends, everyday chores, and now they both knew, neither of them was going back until the war was over. And for the time being it seemed like never.