Neville couldn't understand many things. He didn't know, for example, how it was possible that when the snow was snowing so beautifully, when everything was white, no one in all of Hogwarts went out onto the grounds and threw snowballs. Nor was he able to realize that Professor Snape was absent at Hogwarts - whom, slowly in his mind, he was getting used to calling the old bat. He realized so strange that no one gasped at his neck during the lesson, no one followed his movements, waiting only for the slightest mistake. Weird is the new DADA teacher, from whom even Neville seems to know more spells. It was also strange for Neville Longbottom to find an empty chair in the center of the presidential table.
Weird was Ginny Weasley, who now had no boyfriend and pretended that she didn't care about Harry Potter anymore. Even if he only gave her a sign, she would have run after him, even to the end of the world. It is strange for Neville to have breakfasts when owls bring the Prophet. When everyone turns the newspapers back and reads the obituaries, not the Quidditch match reports. It is strange that they canceled this sport this year at Hogwarts.
Strange to Neville was the great Hogwarts trinity - who were no longer the trio. It was weird when Ron Weasley kissed Hermione Granger on the cheek and then on the mouth. When Harry was leaving, they barely paid attention. It amazed that no one noticed how often Harry was now absent from the common room. That he no longer smiles so often, but is often lost in thought. That he sometimes bites the pillow at night to keep from screaming or crying. And sometimes he gets up and goes out and is away until morning.
Neville knows Ron gets up sometimes too. That he meets Hermione late at night in the common room, that they whisper to each other for a long time. They are not doing anything wrong. They just talk. And then Ron kisses her tenderly and watches her come back to her. But Neville will never admit how he knows it. But he is sure that Harry doesn't have any girlfriends in Gryffindor. He also doubts he has one in Ravenclaw. Since he broke up with that lovely Cho, he hardly talks to the people of that house. There was no one left in Hufflepuff that someone like Harry could be interested in. And Slytherin? No, that's impossible, Harry hates the Slytherins.
Neville is trying not to think about it now. But it's hard not to think when you hear him, Harry, get up from his bed again. As he tries to be quiet - and he is, he is silent. If Neville were asleep, he surely wouldn't wake up. Neville watches as Harry puts on his sweatshirt, ties his sneakers, pulls out his cape from under the bed and takes his wand and glasses from the shelf. And then Harry covers himself in the cloak and Neville can't see him anymore - he only hears the creak of the door and the soft footsteps on the stairs.
Now Neville can finally fall asleep, as he is so sure Harry Potter will not come back to bed that night.
At least not for this.
~ O-O ~
He closed the door of the Room of Requirement silently behind him and pulled off his cloak. Draco was already waiting for him - he was sitting on the couch, wand tucked behind his ear, loaded into the text of the book from Slughorn. Harry smiled to himself and tiptoed around the couch. He hoped the Slytherin hadn't noticed him.
- You should be more vigilant. He whispered, covering his eyes from behind with his hands.
- Potter. I knew you were here from the beginning. Draco shoved his hands away like intrusive flies.
They had been practicing occlusion for several weeks now. I mean, Malfoy was trying to break into Harry's mind. And sometimes he succeeded and sometimes he didn't. But Harry doubted it was his merit. He supposed Draco was just weak in legilimency. He was no match for Snape - but practicing with Malfoy was a piece of cake compared to the ordeal with the Potions Master.
They exercised whenever they felt like it. They also tried some of the other spells in the book. They always met in the Room of Requirement - when Draco first showed up, Harry could be sure there would be a bottle of rum on the table. And when Harry first came in, there were a dozen bottles of beer on the table.
Sometimes neither of them could go back to the bedroom. And when they woke up in the morning in disturbing configurations ... Harry would wake up on the floor with Malfoy's hand under his shirt. Malfoy himself was asleep on the couch, a blissful smile on his face. Harry had not yet figured out whether the Slytherin was asleep or just pretending at these moments.
- Look better at what I found. He showed him a piece of text. Harry looked over his shoulder curiously. However, he did not even have time to read the line. The Slytherin suddenly curled up with a soft hiss, dropping the book. He pressed a hand to his chest and his face twisted in a scowl of pain.
- Hi! What is ?! Harry was immediately next to him. He forcibly pulled his hand away from his chest, lifting his shirt sleeve high. The Dark Mark stood out in black lines against Malfoy's white skin. Harry stared at it in fascination.
"He ... Again ..." Draco was gritting his teeth so tightly he couldn't say anything. His voice was hoarse.
Harry felt the Slytherin's face press against his shoulder, but he paid no attention to it. He touched the mark with his fingertips. Malfoy had a shaky breath and he could feel it against his neck. He brushed the lines of the gloomy symbol lightly. And once more. His forehead radiating warmth. Like a fever.
Fascinating.
~ O-O ~
It was as if his veins were running, not blood, but wanted to bite off that blasted arm, peel off the tattooed skin. If you were, it would do something ... He pressed his face tighter against Potter's shoulder. The finger of the other hand gripped his shirt, but they did not address it. I wanted to scream. The tenderness of his cool, cut like marble, sliding over his tainted skin. It would be so nice if it weren't for this pain ... It's a curse ...
This has happened several times before. Potter was there. It was nothing new. But ... But it has never been so strong ... it didn't hurt so bad ... Not so much that he had to clench a fist on Potter's shirt and hear its buttons creak.
Suddenly, Potter leaned over. Draco froze as he felt his tongue on the mark. And then his mouth. Soft and soft like silk, fresh ... What was the bastard doing ...?!
~ O-O ~
What was he doing ?! He sprang to his feet as Malfoy slumps onto the couch, releasing his shirt. He walked over to the wall and leaned his back against it. He took off his glasses and began wiping them with the edge of his shirt.
- Hope it doesn't hurt anymore. - He threw cold in space. He heard the rustle of Slytherin's shirt, heard the cloth brush against his skin. He could hear his breath - surely still coming back, smelling of mint. He could hear her straightening up on the couch. Now he was looking at the Dark Mark.
- Yes ... It's alright ...- His voice was free as. But Harry didn't dare to him. What I did was sheer madness. Paranoia. He didn't want anyone shouting it in his face.
He was standing, leaning against that damn wall, cleaning his glasses as if he wanted to dust them. The warmth of his skin on his lips is still brow. Its sweet taste on speaking. The places where his fingers touched him now burned with living fire. How could he not have paid attention to it before?...?!
"I ... Thanks ... Harry ..." Something twitched inside him as he was about to pronounce his name through his mouth. For the first time since he can remember, he was called an article. Under the visual for Malfoy. Fortunately, he couldn't see the expression on his face - without everything that was blurry and out of focus. He smiled slightly.
- You're welcome. Another meeting? He said nonchalantly. He wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, that it hadn't happened. Never.
- For sure. Maly lowered his shirt, hiding the mark. Passing the floor from the book, browsing it in search of the right page. - But with that, look ...
That night they didn't talk about Voldemort or the Dark Mark or anything else anymore. They practiced the occlusion, and Draco broke into Harry's mind only a few times. And then they didn't even drink that much - they returned to the bedroom almost completely sober.
~ O-O ~
It was four in the morning, but it was still dark outside this time of year. Harry listened to Ron and Neville's even breathing. He couldn't sleep. He rolled over in bed, still thinking about what had happened.
A month ago, he considered Draco Malfoy as his worst enemy. For trash, traitor, dog. For less than a human. And now ... No, he hadn't forgiven him yet, didn't trust him the same way he did, Ron and Hermione, for example. He was still vigilant with him, even trying to keep his wand within reach while he was drinking.
Then why the hell did he kiss him?!
All right. It wasn't a kiss. He just touched his lips to his skin, nothing else. No emotions, nothing more. Really nothing. It was an impulse, some primal instinct. Or another Voldemort job. Exactly. He had no reason to believe it was anything more than that.
Suddenly he realized his hand was wandering over the sheet, lower and lower, dangerously close ... No to hell ! Angrily, he slipped both hands under the pillow as he rolled over onto his stomach.
He won't do this to himself, while thinking of Draco Malfoy at the same time.
~ O-O ~
Draco Malfoy was also awake. His feet were resting on the wall as he lay on the bed. He was wearing only boxer shorts - but he only slept in them, so it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He had one arm tucked under his head and a cigarette in the other. There was a stream of smoke rising to the ceiling and disappearing through the vent.
Since Crabbe and Goyle left school, he has had the whole dormitory to himself. Most of the Slytherin bedrooms were for three. Living alone was depressing at first - but now he's used to it. He was even happy with such developments.
He inhaled deeply on the smoke. Here today, Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, kissed him. Almost. He looked at the mark on his hand. For the first time, he did not think of him with disgust.
He remembered his mouth. And the language. It was so infernally sensual, yes ... He would like to feel those cool lips again. On his lips. He would like their tongues intertwined, he would like to feel his fingers wandering over his skin, how his nails dig into his flesh, he would like to hear him moan, how he calls him a god and begs for more ...
To a prostitute of poverty, fucking misery! It's Potter! Hogwarts Scourge! A poser and an idiot, fraternizing with slimes ...
Draco sighed. She doesn't think that about him anymore. If he is the Savior of the Wizarding World, he could ask for salvation on his knees ...
Something about him twisted as he pictured himself on his knees in front of Potter. In front of Harry ... He looked down at his boxer shorts.
- Fuck. He groaned sincerely. He shot a cigarette butt at the overfilled ashtray and curled up into a ball, his hands reaching up to his pants.
He tried not to imagine how he would look Potter in the eye tomorrow. And the hell with that - at most, she'll take his glasses away again.
~ O-O ~
"You've been so little seen lately, Harry." Ron said the next day in the common room. Harry was just making his way to the aisle behind the Fat Lady's portrait. - You keep going out.
- Oh, stop torturing him. Hermione smiled, pausing for a moment from her numerology essay. She sat with her back against Ron's bent knees. Weasley played with her hair.
"Maybe Harry found a girlfriend?" Ron laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ginny interrupt her conversation with her friend, giving him a despairing look.
"Maybe, maybe not ..." He whispered, smiling apologetically. Pretending to be embarrassed, he left quickly, not looking back. He could also hear Ron enjoys, at least as if he had won the Quidditch Championship alone.
He sighed heavily, throwing the cloak over him. Sam didn't know why he hadn't told them about his "lessons" with Malfoy so far. He had promised the Slytherin that it would be a secret, but ... But even Dumbledore let him reveal secrets to his friends. Maybe this time he didn't want to bother them, destroy their happiness? Especially now that being together was their only joy - new announcements of attacks and deaths appeared in the prophet every day.
He couldn't imagine Ron's reaction to the news that Harry spends most of his free time with Malfoy - public enemy number one.
But when he wasn't telling them the truth, he would let them make just such guesses as the one he had just made. Harry Potter has a girlfriend - ha ha ha. What would they all think if they found out about Malfoy? He wanted to laugh. And when he closed the door of the Room of Requirement behind him and lay down on the navy blue couch, he couldn't help but laugh.
~ O-O ~
- And where are you going again, my lizard? - He felt something grab his gray sleeve. He looked down - Pansy lay stretched out like a kitten in heat in the armchair.. It tilted her skirt up high, and she pretended not to notice the male gazes wandering down her shapely legs. She looked at him like a hungry animal. Firmly tore the sleeve from her fingers.
- None of your business. - He growled.
- Oh, don't talk to me like that. She turned. Now she was standing on all fours, reaching out to him. She must have thought he looked sexy in this position. She imagined himself getting stuck just looking at her. I wonder if the whole common room can see her panties now, or only those who sit closest, Draco wondered. - You hardly talk to me lately, you don't go out with me anywhere ...
- I don't even feel like touching you. He hissed, turning furiously. He didn't look back, hearing his name interspersed with curses.
The man climbed the stairs to the second floor. He was just in time to hide behind the curtain when suddenly a ghost appeared in the corridor. He listened - but it was quiet now. Potter was probably already waiting, as he looked at his watch. He pulled back the curtain and ...
A shrill scream rose down the corridor. It always happens like this, he thought as he ran. Mrs. Norris screamed and hissed and squealed furiously. He could already hear Filch's footsteps, almost brow his breath on his back ...
He turned a few more times, climbed the next stairs - and Filch was getting closer and closer ... He was sure that he was on the shortest path, he was much faster than the old janitor - but Filch had the advantage over him he probably knew all the secret passages of the castle. At the last moment, he reached the door, burst into the Room of Requirement, and slammed it. He stood motionless by them for a long time - he heard the janitor running by, screaming furiously. He could hear little claws scraping when Mrs. Norris ran after him shortly after. Only then did he take a deep breath of relief.
- Any problems?
He turned around. Potter was lying on the couch, glasses on his forehead and a bottle of cream in his hand. His shirt slipped out of his pants. The last few buttons were open. Draco followed the narrow path of black hair that ran from his navel and disappeared under the blue denim of his trousers. He forced his voice to sound normal.
- It's Filch. Unexpected randez vu with Mrs. Norris.
- He'll be waiting for you now. You'll see, he's hiding behind the armor and… "Potter couldn't hold back and laughed out loud.
- Running here every day is getting a little confusing. He swung Potter's legs to the floor, making room for himself on the couch. He tried not to look at his fly. The Gryffindor stopped laughing.
- I mean ... You don't want to help me anymore? Draco contemplated how his green eyes sparkle with anger. He was very glad that Harry wasn't wearing his glasses this time.
- I didn't really mean it.
-?
- You have an invisibility cloak, I don't. But I only have the bedroom to myself. Maybe tomorrow instead of here we will meet at my place? He blurted out, almost in one breath. Potter looked at him for a moment without speaking. Then he quickly put his glasses on his nose and set the bottle down on the table.
- You must be crazy, Malfoy. - They looked into each other's eyes. - Okay, I'll think about it. But I don't promise anything, okay?
Draco only smiled in response.