For the first time that term, Harry was going to Hogsmeade. It was a frigid Saturday, snow blanketing the grounds and heavy winds knocking over the smallest first years, but Harry figured it was time to just do it. He hadn't gone yet simply because he was avoiding the awestruck stares that his newfound heroism brought whenever he stepped into a public space. Buying his school supplies in Diagon Alley had been an absolute nightmare that he hadn't been eager to repeat.

But Ron and Hermione had been rather insistent that he go at least once before the holidays, and Harry had figured that the Hogsmeade trip before the one that immediately preceded the break would be his best bet. When he had woken that morning to see the awful weather to accompany it, Harry had grinned at his luck.

It wasn't just the timing and the weather and his friends' pleas that had Harry leaving the relative privacy of the castle that Saturday. The day before, Harry had bumped into Luna, who mentioned that Malfoy was also planning to visit Hogsmeade, something he apparently hadn't done all year, either.

Harry had tried his best not to force his friendship all over Malfoy since discovering that he was nursing a soft spot (he was refusing the term 'crush') for the Slytherin the week prior. It made Potions somewhat awkward, but Harry was pleased that Malfoy hadn't taken to outright avoiding him anymore. They talked as they had before, discussing the lesson or the homework when they walked together to Malfoy's Ancient Runes lesson or when they spent the morning break in the library. It was easy, but Harry's heart screamed at him that it wasn't enough.

And so, wrapped up tight in his scarf, cloak, hat, and mittens, Harry made his way through the brewing blizzard with Ron, Hermione, Neville, and several other old friends. The walk was brutal, nobody saying a word as they turned their faces down against the unrelenting wind. Harry kept glancing among the students trying to spot Malfoy but to no avail.

It wasn't until they had entered the village and the shops lining the cobbled street blocked some of the wind that Harry spotted him. Malfoy was just as bundled as everyone else, a dark wooly hat pulled over his blond hair. It was only chance that Harry spotted his profile as Malfoy tucked into a bookshop.

"Blimey, it's cold," Ron muttered at Harry's side. "Let's get a drink, eh?"

The group was shivering violently despite their layers, and everyone nodded in agreement, inching toward the nearby Three Broomsticks Pub.

Harry's eyes were still on the bookshop, indecision in his chest.

"Harry?"

"I'll, er, meet you guys there," he said. He looked over and saw Ron and Hermione stopped and waiting for him. "Really, I'll catch up. There's something I want to check out first."

Ron shrugged, but Hermione smiled knowingly at Harry before slipping her hand into Ron's and allowing herself to be led away. Shoving his hands deeper into his pockets, Harry made his way over to the bookshop.

It was an old-looking building called Tomes and Scrolls, and as far as Harry knew, few students frequented the place. The Hogwarts library had most everything a student could possibly need or want, including a large collection of both wizarding and muggle novels. But Harry knew he had seen Malfoy enter, and he took a breath of sharp, cold air, coughed a bit for it, and stepped inside.

Harry's ears rang slightly at the abrupt silence that met him after the roar of the winds. The shop was larger than it looked from the outside and was a bit dusty smelling. Other than the fact that all the shelves were hardly more than a meter tall, Harry was fiercely reminded of the Hogwarts library.

There were only a handful of customers quietly browsing the shelves, making it easy to spot Malfoy a few rows in talking softly with Luna. Malfoy's head was bowed slightly to speak with Luna as she seemed to be combing the shelves, speaking softly back. Luna had been on friendly terms with Malfoy longer than Harry had, but the scene still stirred some surprise.

Luna looked up then and caught Harry staring.

"Harry!" she called in a hushed voice, waving her arm and gesturing for him to join them.

"Hey, Luna," he said as he drew nearer. "How are you?"

"Oh, just wonderful!" She nodded at Malfoy. "Draco was just helping me look for a book I cannot seem to find."

"Is that right?" Harry smiled at Malfoy, who shrugged.

"Oh yes," Luna continued. "It's a text that outlines the finer mysteries of wand fairies. Wand fairies are remarkably similar to mollies, and as I cannot seem to find a single book on mollies, I am searching for this book instead."

"Er...what are mollies?"

Luna smiled vaguely as she stepped around Harry to continue browsing the shelf. "Mollies are tiny, beautiful creatures that are strictly male. They have a powerful magic that invokes love and lust."

Harry shot a puzzled look at Malfoy, who didn't seem to have any answers but stifled a laugh behind a cough.

"Well, if it's not here..." Luna straightened and frown at the bookshelf. "I suppose I'll have to bother the shop owner. Well, I'll see you back at the castle then, shall I? Enjoy your afternoon."

Gliding like a fairy herself, Luna wandered away, leaving Harry alone with Malfoy.

"So," Harry began. "Come here often?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You sound like an idiot when you ask that."

A sheepish grin spread across Harry's face. "Just trying to make conversation. If you just helped me, I wouldn't have to sound like an idiot all the time."

"Well, maybe there doesn't have to always be conversation."

"You telling me to be quiet?"

"Maybe."

Harry chuckled quietly and turned to look at the books lining the shelves. It seemed that most of the books there were actually quite fairy-related, and Harry wondered if the book Luna claimed to be looking for even existed. If not, she was bound to be wasting most of the poor owner's afternoon.

"This is actually my first time in here," Malfoy said, breaking the silence.

Harry looked up. "So we actually can have a conversation right now?"

"Oh, shut it." Annoyance flashed across Malfoy's face as he made to turn away. Harry reached out and grabbed his hand before he could think twice about it.

They were both still wearing their mittens, but a pleasant warmth still flowed through Harry at the contact. "Relax, I was only messing around. It's your first time here, then? Looking for something specific?"

Malfoy's eyes were slightly narrowed as he stared down at their hands, and it seemed to take a great effort for him to force his eyes up to meet Harry's when he answered. "Uh...no. I can find anything I could ever want at Hogwarts. I just thought I'd check the place out is all. Didn't want to go anywhere too crowded."

"So suggesting a drink at the Three Broomsticks is out of the question?"

"Yeah, I'd rather avoid all the glares I'd get just by being alive."

Harry squeezed Malfoy's hand, drawing Malfoy's attention to them again. Satisfaction pooled in Harry's chest like a victory when Malfoy still didn't pull his hand away.

"I get it."

"I don't think you do."

"Oh, but I really think I do. People have always stared at me. It's got to be the most obnoxious thing I've ever experienced, and that's saying something. You ought to meet my aunt and uncle."

Malfoy frowned. "People have always stared at you because you're Harry bleeding Potter, the Boy Who Lived and all that. The stares are different than the ones I'm getting, I can assure you."

"Well, sure," Harry said, taking a tiny step closer. "They're adoring and all that now, but it's hardy always been that way. Remember in our second year, when everyone thought I was the one attacking muggleborns? Or in our fourth year, when everyone thought I put my name in the Goblet of Fire just to be a fame-hungry git? I promise, I was getting just as awful of looks as you think you're getting now."

It was taking a lot of concentration not to focus solely on Malfoy's hand in his or how Malfoy still had yet to move away from him. Harry watched as Malfoy's lips pursed together, pulling into his mouth and wetting them slightly. It was mesmerizing.

"You mean you actually didn't put your name in the Goblet?"

"What?" Harry looked up from Malfoy's lips. "No, that was Crouch."

"The judge?"

"No, no," Harry chuckled lightly. "No, it's...it's a long story, but it was Crouch's son that was thought to be dead. He had used some Polyjucie Potion to pretend to be Professor Moody that year so he could make sure I touched the Triwizard Cup. It was a portkey," Harry said as utter confusion filled Malfoy's eyes. "It took me and...and Cedric to a graveyard where Voldemort was getting his body back. It, er...so no. I didn't put my name in the Goblet."

There was an uncomfortable pause as Harry tried to push aside the images stirring in his mind at the memory. Malfoy looked as though he had swallowed something foul.

"Sorry," Malfoy said, voice slightly hoarse. "I didn't mean to bring that up. I...I didn't know."

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and smiled bracingly. "It's alright. The point is, I do get it, wanting to avoid everyone looking and talking. Although I never thought to duck in here to hide."

Malfoy's brows knitted together. "I'm not hiding."

"Mmm...you kind of are." Harry grinned. "Can't blame you, but you also don't have to."

Malfoy didn't answer, eyes downcast. Feeling brave, Harry took another tiny step closer directly into Malfoy's personal space. Harry reached up with his free hand and gently bumped Malfoy's chin, silently requesting those eyes. Confusion, sorrow, and fear swam there, breaking Harry's heart.

"Come on," he said softly. "Let's go warm up properly."

Doubt flickered among the emotions in Malfoy's eyes.

"And if anyone says anything, you and I are good enough wizards that we can kick their arses no problem."

That brought out a smile. Harry's chest flared. Victory.

What possessed Draco to accept Potter's offer of a drink at the Three Broomsticks was nearly beyond him. Nearly. Draco looked down at Potter's hand that led him out of the shop. Damned Potter.

They stepped out onto the street and a fierce wind slammed the door closed behind hem, whipping their cloaks into a frenzy. Draco pulled his hand from Potter's in a vain effort to keep himself warm, crossing his arms and bowing his head against the wind.

"C'mon," Potter's muffled voice said in his ear.

The Three Broomsticks wasn't nearly as busy as Draco had expected it would be. With the freezing cold, he had thought the pub would be packed with villagers and students alike trying to keep warm. But as the windows rattled violently against the oncoming storm, Draco remembered that most of the students had chosen to stay at the castle that trip and that the villagers likely would have done the same in their homes.

But, scarce as the customers were compared to the norm, Draco still felt eyes on him as he followed Potter into the pub. Potter was removing his hat, scarf, and mittens as he walked, but Draco kept his on, not wanting to draw even more attention to himself.

"Harry!"

Draco's chest constricted at the sound of Weasley's voice, a stark reminder of the last time he had really heard it, lying in Potter's bed.

He shook his head.

Potter led Draco over to the table that Weasley and Granger were sharing. A nearby table held half a dozen other Gryffindors that Draco knew to be friendly with Potter, and he was glad that they seemed too distracted by their own conversations to look over just then. Potter dropped into the seat beside Weasley, leaving Draco to sit down between Potter and Granger.

To his surprise, Granger smiled at him.

"Where've you-" Weasley began, but he stopped short when he caught Draco's eye. It would have been humorous, Weasley looking as though he had been struck over the head with a club, had Draco not been so worried about how badly the redhead would react. A tense silence blanketed the table.

"I'll order us another round of Butterbeers, shall I?" Granger offered after a moment. Weasley just continued to look between Draco and Potter.

"Yes, that sounds great, Hermione," Potter answered. "Need help?"

"No," Granger said sharply. "Thank you, but no. I'll be right back."

It was the longest two minutes Draco had endured in some time. No one spoke, Weasley's bewildered stare morphing into a confused glare that still jumped between Draco and Potter. Draco swallowed dryly and took a deep breath. He clasped his hands together to keep from shaking. When his inhales began to silently stutter, Draco felt a hand rest on his knee under the table.

Draco glanced at him, but Potter was still looking at Weasley as though trying to hold a conversation with just their eyes. If only wanting something to do, Draco removed his cap and mittens, setting them on the table.

"Here we are!" Granger said when she finally returned. Four Butterbeers slid onto the table as she climbed back into her seat.

They each took one, Draco and Potter both immediately taking long drinks. Draco shivered slightly at the warmth. Awkward silence filled the table as they all seemed to be glancing at one another, daring someone to break it.

Granger spoke first, the casualness sounding incredibly forced. "So, Malfoy. Er...Draco." She licked her lips and glanced at Weasley, whose eyes grew wide. "I saw you go into Tomes and Scrolls. Do you, uh, did you find what you were looking for?"

"I, uhm...I was just looking," Draco said breathlessly, looking at the table.

"Looking for anything in particular?"

"No, not really."

"Oh."

Silence took them again. Potter's hand gently squeezed Draco's knee. His heartrate was quickening and Draco took a clumsy gulp of his Butterbeer in a weak attempt to calm it. He felt as though he were failing some sort of test, drowning at an unnamed trial for which he hadn't prepared. Granger had been trying to be friendly and he had simply failed to return the gesture in his panic.

Potter set his mug down. "So what-"

"Let's cut the crap," Weasley interrupted, face already turning a fine shade of magenta. "What're you thinking, Harry?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Potter answered coolly, eyes narrowing.

"Look, I get it, you don't want anyone to die anymore, and no one said anything when you wanted to make sure he was alright." Weasley gestured sharply at Draco, not even bothering to look at him anymore. The neighboring table of Gryffindors stopped the bulk of their talking to watch as Weasley's voice grew louder, angrier. "But then you start hanging around him in between lessons, meeting up in the library, and you know what? Whatever. You want to keep playing hero and try to keep everyone happy and safe? Whatever. But you're taking it too far when you bring him around us on the weekends."

A very pregnant pause followed Weasley's words. Draco couldn't bring himself to look up from staring at the table, not really seeing it. The thumb on his knee began to rub his leg softly, reassuring.

"I wasn't aware that my choice of friends was up for debate."

Weasley glowered. "It's not about your friends, because Malfoy certainly isn't one of them."

"You think you have a right to tell me who to hang around with?"

"Well, someone ought to, since you apparently think that this," Weasley again gestured furiously at Draco, "is anything but wrong."

"And what makes it wrong?" Potter growled. "Just because you can't get your head out of your arse long enough to move forward doesn't mean that we all can't."

Weasley slammed a fist on the table, shaking the mugs and drawing the rest of the pub's attention to their table. "Oh, quit being so high and mighty! If you weren't so stuck on being the poster boy of love and peace or whatever, you'd wish he'd just off himself, too!"

"Ron!" Granger's voice was strangled, horrified and livid.

Draco's knee felt cold as Potter stood abruptly, his hand going with him to whip out his wand. "Take that back."

Weasley glared back as he, too, stood and drew his wand. "Which part? The part about you being a fame-hungry prat or the part about how worthless of a piece of rubbish Malfoy is?"

Potter raised his wand, but Draco was somehow quicker. He reached out and grabbed Potter's wrist, stopping him from whatever spell he was about to cast. Potter's eyes turned to meet his, anger dancing there and making Draco's breath catch even more.

"It's...it's not..." Draco's voice was only a raspy whisper, slipping out between gasps for air. He knew he was beginning to shake harder and he withdrew his hand. "Don't. Please. Not...not for me."

"But-"

"What the bloody hell is this?" Weasley practically screamed, apparently reaching some kind of limit. "He some kind of faggot, too? Merlin, Harry, what the hell are you even doing trying to save this?"

Unlike the scenario in his own common room, Draco flinched at the derogatory term. He wasn't exactly a favorite of the Slytherin House, but here among mostly Gryffindors, Draco had the distinct sensation of being deep in enemy territory, totally exposed. Panic was quickly taking him over. He openly gasped for air.

There was an uproar at the nearby Gryffindor table, and Draco's heartrate easily doubled. Sense couldn't be made from the shouts that erupted, but Draco knew fury when he heard it.

Potter reached for Draco, but the hand frightened him. Draco nearly fell backwards onto the floor as he scrambled from his seat.

"Malfoy, wait-"

But Draco didn't want to hear whatever it was Potter had to say. Draco had done enough.

With a last, terrified look at Potter, Draco turned and sprinted from the pub.

XXX

Hours and hours later, Draco sat on the ledge of the Astronomy Tower, leaning over the edge again. The grounds directly below the tower were a dark blur on their own, but Draco's tears were making it worse.

He hadn't truly cried in ages, the last time likely being when he had been struggling with fixing the Vanishing Cabinet his sixth year. Somewhere between the horrors that had unraveled from Dumbledore's death and onward, Draco had seemed to dry up entirely.

But now, as he sat perched on the edge of the tower, wind stinging his cheeks and whipping through his hair, Draco had finally found some tears to shed. He blinked, and the first drop fell onto his cheek. It turned to ice almost instantly as the wind hit him again. The promised blizzard had dissipated, it seemed, leaving an angry cold that hadn't the strength to cover the earth in any more snow. Draco could understand the feeling.

"If you weren't so stuck on being the poster boy of love and peace or whatever, you'd wish he's just off himself, too!"

More tears fell. Draco gripped the tower's ledge harder with his numbed fingers and white knuckles as gentle sobs shook his body alongside the shaking the cold had brought him.

Draco never thought Weasley was particularly bright, but this time he had hit the nail on the head. Whatever Draco may have been daring to hope in the past couple weeks, Potter was just being a hero again. Whatever Draco had been daring to believe, he actually didn't deserve to breathe anymore.

Tears falling freely now, Draco looked down to the grounds far below his dangling feet.

Harry stepped quietly around the corner that gave way to the Astronomy Tower steps. Professor Carraway, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, was on nighttime patrol that evening, and she apparently took her position far more seriously than the other teachers. She prowled without a lantern, keeping quiet as she crept around the school, making it hard to listen for her and avoid detection. Harry had seen her a corridor or two away and only just passed her without raising the alarm.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

"With me?" Ron shouted, face brick red. "I'm not the one trying to be friends with Malfoy!"

Harry clenched his teeth as he began a quiet ascent to the top of the tower.

Harry wanted nothing more than to hex Ron, send him flying across the pub covered in something foul, maybe making him burp up slugs again, but when the pub's door slammed shut behind Malfoy's retreating figure, Harry simply threw Ron a scathing look. He opened his mouth to shout, but Harry was interrupted by Dean Thomas, who was looking just as furious.

"Who gives a damn who Harry's friends with? How could you say that?"

"What?" Ron sputtered. "It matters! It's Malfoy!"

"What difference does that make?" Hermione snapped. "You just told someone to their face that they ought to...to kill themselves!"

Parvati was there then, lining up with the group that had come over at the commotion. "At least Harry's not some backward bigot like you apparently are!"

"I-what?" Ron's shout fell in his confusion.

"I never took you for a homophobic twat."

"I-I-I'm not-" Ron ran his fingers through his hair and looked to Hermione for help. "I'm not homophobic!"

But before Hermione could answer, though by the fire in her eyes he was sure he'd have enjoyed the comment, Harry spoke across her to Ron. "You're pathetic."

And amidst the chaos that continued, Harry stormed out of the Three Broomsticks himself in search of Malfoy.

He hadn't found him, though. Harry sighed as he neared the top of the tower. He had looked absolutely everywhere he could think, but Malfoy was apparently far faster than he looked, having made it to the castle before Harry could catch him and disappearing into the safe depths of the Slytherin dungeon.

That terror in Malfoy's eyes haunted Harry throughout the day. The way he had quietly pleaded that Harry not defend him because it was him, how he had quivered when Ron started to shout. Anger bubbled in Harry's stomach, but he forced himself to try and relax. He didn't want to be worked up when he found Malfoy. He wanted to be calm so that he could best explain to Malfoy how far from the truth Ron's words were.

Finally reaching the top of the tower, Harry stepped around the small bend that opened to the whole surface. Sure enough, Malfoy was there, staring out over the grounds, sitting on the ledge.

Too far on the ledge.

Chest leaning over.

Hands letting go of the stone.

Terror seized Harry, springing him into action. He lunged across the tower, crossing the surface in barely a second. His arms thrust forward and wrapped around Malfoy's chest. For one terrible moment, Harry thought his momentum would send them both tumbling over the ledge, but he was able to plant his feet and swing himself back, dragging Malfoy with him. In his desperation, Harry had thrown his entire body into the action and the force sent him crashing painfully into the stone floor, sliding him a few feet as Malfoy's body crashed on top of his with a surprised grunt.

Harry's head smacked the floor, sending fireworks erupting in his vision, but he blinked them away as he twisted himself and pulled at Malfoy's robes so that they were both upright. When Harry finally came face to face with Malfoy, his heart stopped.

Tears covered Malfoy's face and filled his eyes.

"What the-" Harry gasped, then he pulled Malfoy in for a fierce hug. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Malfoy's arms didn't lift to return the embrace as Harry buried his head into the other's neck, arms tight against his back. Harry breathed in the soft pine that was embedded in Malfoy's clothing, trying to calm himself as the thought of what would have happened if he hadn't come out that night filled his head.

Harry pulled back to search Malfoy's face, but Malfoy's head was bowed, his shoulders shaking. It took Harry a moment to realize that he was crying.

"Malfoy?"

The crying continued.

"Malfoy...Draco," Harry said, the name on his tongue feeling strange. Strange but...nice.

A hiccup stopped the growing sobs for a moment, enough for Draco to finally lift his eyes to meet Harry's. Harry tried to offer a smile but Draco's lips only trembled as he began to cry again.

"Hey," Harry shushed, pulling Draco back into his arms. Draco dropped his head onto Harry's shoulder as Harry rubbed his back. Finally, hesitantly, Draco brought his arms up and held onto Harry's robes as though his life depended on it.

In a way, Harry thought, it kind of did.

"Please...please don't," Harry said into Draco's ear. "Ron's...he's a...nothing he said was true, Draco. No one wants...no one ever-"

He stopped as Draco gave a watery scoff.

"Okay, no one who matters," Harry amended. "No one in the pub, for sure. I wish you'd have stayed a bit longer. No one thought Ron was in line with...with what he said. So please...don't. Ever."

Several moments passed as they sat there, centered at the top of the Astronomy Tower in each other's arms. Harry continued to rub Draco's back as the sobs subsided, turning into soft sniffs and tired breaths.

"You're just trying to save me," Draco croaked after some time. "Aren't you? Just some pathetic former Death Eater queer that can't even stop himself from being blown up by a couple of kids. The perfect project."

Harry's heart hurt at the self-loathing in Draco's voice. He pulled back to look Draco in the eye, wanting to make sure he did this right. Tears still covered Draco's cheeks, and Harry brought his hands up to cup Draco's face, his thumbs swiping across the skin there to wipe away the tears.

"As much as everyone keeps trying to say that," Harry said firmly, his hands holding Draco's face. "I am not just trying to save you. I have better things to do than try to save someone I don't like or don't think deserves it."

Despair filled Draco's eyes and Harry's thumbs wiped at his cheeks once more.

"Which," Harry continued, hands gentle as he cradled Draco's face, "is why, no, I am not just trying to save you. I'm trying to be your...your friend because I know you deserve a second chance, because I do like you, because I know you are allowed to be happy."

Hope, tentatively breaking through the raging waves of complete despair, peaked in Draco's eyes, and Harry found himself leaning into the short distance between them.

Soft footfalls echoed in the stairwell behind Harry, and they both froze. Hardly an inch separated their faces.

Carraway.

As silently as possible, Harry and Draco scrambled to their feet as the footsteps grew louder. Harry's eyes darted around the tower, looking for a possible place to hide. Unfortunately, it was a totally open space.

"Damn," Harry whispered.

Draco grabbed him by the shoulder and drug him over to the staircase entrance. Where Carraway was due to appear any second.

"Are you mad?" Harry hissed as Draco shoved him quietly against the wall. Draco slapped a hand across Harry's mouth.

They only had to wait a few seconds.

Professor Carraway stepped onto the tower, deliberately trodding carefully to avoid making too much noise. Capable as she obviously was, she had developed a reputation of being an unnecessarily strict teacher, and it carried over into her nighttime patrols if the determined gleam in her eye was anything to go by.

Harry held his breath as she stepped onto the tower, not seeing them as she focused on the scene before her. It was absolutely mad, but Draco's plan looked as though it just might work. Draco nodded to the staircase and they tiptoed over, around the corner, and onto the stairs.

It only took about ten stairs before Harry tripped on his cloak.

He fell forward and smacked the wall to catch himself, sending an echoing slap reverberating up the tower.

"I knew it!" Professor Carraway called from above them.

"Damn."

"Run!" Draco hissed.

Harry sprinted after Draco down the spiraling staircase, skipping two stairs at a time without pausing to marvel at how he didn't fall flat on his face. Draco hit the corridor first, veering left, and Harry followed. Carraway wasn't far behind, coming down the stairs before they could round the next corner. At least it was dark.

"Lumos Maxima!" Harry heard her call, and his heart sank.

They turned the corner, and though Draco made to continue down the corridor, Harry knew this particular part of the castle well and grabbed Draco's hand, dragging him to a nondescript door on the right that he knew to be a broom closet. Harry ripped the door open, threw Draco inside before following suit, carefully pulling the door closed behind him so as not to make a sound. When the latch clicked quietly beneath the sound of Carraway's fast approaching footsteps, Harry pulled out his wand.

"Colloportus," he breathed at the door.

As Harry put his wand away, he hardly dared to breathe as Carraway drew closer, her wandlight casting shadows through the crack under the door as she checked the doors along the corridor. Harry's chest was pressed against Draco, who was leaning against the back of the tiny closet with his hands up as though in surrender, palms barely touching Harry's shoulders. When Harry turned his head forward and away from the door, his nose bumped Draco's.

Draco gasped softly. Heart fluttering in anticipation, Harry brought his hands up and rested them on Draco's waist, the closet only just affording him enough room to do so. They breathed into the minuscule space between them, neither moving but for the rising and falling of their chests.

The doorknob rattled at Harry's back, though it only stirred vague alarm as he sensed rather than saw Draco lick his lips.

"Blasted kids," Carraway muttered, her voice clear through the thin door. "Too damn fast."

Harry pressed his forehead to Draco's as Carraway's footsteps began to fade down the corridor and out of earshot. When it seemed as though she had truly gone, Harry spoke, voice barely audible.

"That was close."

Draco nodded marginally, his nose bumping Harry's. "Pretty damn close, yeah."

Harry's heart was hammering, either from the sprinting or his proximity with Draco, he didn't know or particularly care. There was so much that could go wrong, but Gryffindors were brave and bold, even when they ought not to be. And it was that bravery and boldness that pushed Harry to lean forward and close the gap between his lips and Draco's.

Bliss.

Though Harry had intentionally not given much thought to the fact that he had feelings for a man, it had crossed his mind at one point or another how he might feel about kissing one. Surely lips between men and women were different? But as pure pleasure exploded in his chest, pooling as a deep heat in his abdomen, at the feel of Draco's lips moving in time against his, slightly chapped but soft, Harry wasn't sure why he had ever thought kissing a man would be any different than when he had kissed Ginny or Cho.

Draco's hands fell onto Harry's shoulders as Harry pushed deeper into the kiss, his own hands pulling Draco's waist flush against him. Hands drifted into Harry's hair and on his neck, cradling his face. They were tentative at first, unsure, though when Harry snaked his arms around Draco's back to hold him more firmly, the hands became more certain, more insistent as they pulled Harry closer.

Pure bliss.

Harry poured as much as he could into the kiss. He tried to tell Draco with his lips that he deserved every ounce of kindness he found, deserved every chance he was given, deserved this. Harry slid his hand up Draco's back and into his hair, desperate for more, desperate for everything. When their hips lined up without warning, sliding equally excited parts of them both together, Harry moaned softly into Draco's gasp.

"H-Harry."

Pleasure rumbled in Harry's chest at his name on Draco's lips, and he pressed in closer, sliding his tongue into Draco's mouth.

"F-fuck, Harry, wait."

Harry pulled back, trying to find Draco's eyes in the darkness of the closet. They were both panting, and Harry could feel Draco's body trembling slightly against his.

"What is it? Are you alright?"

"We..." Draco swallowed. "We should get back to our dormitories...before...before Carraway comes back."

Hurt flickered through the blind pleasure that had taken Harry hold. But even in his haze, he could hear Draco's own hesitation at his suggestion. Harry didn't want to push Draco, though, and he let his hand fall from Draco's hair and came back around his waist.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Back to my dormitory," Harry said. "Admit it, you slept better there than you have all year. Nothing weird. Just...you need sleep."

Draco breathed a laugh. "Somehow, I don't think that's all that's on your mind."

"Really," Harry insisted. "Come on, I'm not going to molest you. Tomorrow's Sunday, we've got nowhere to be. No one will bother us, and I've got the invisibility cloak when you want to leave. And if you don't sleep just as good as you did before, then...well, then you don't have to come back again. And you can rub it in my face."

Harry waited as Draco seemed to think it over, his hands gently running through Harry's hair. In the darkness, Harry unabashedly closed his eyes and savored the touch.

"Alright then."

A huge smile spread across Harry's face. "Alright then."