My first Harry Potter Slash. Forgive me if it sucks. It's only meant to be a short, little piece.
Warnings: This is slash! It is Harry/Draco slash to be specific. If you don't like the idea of boys kissing other boys, then go read something else.
Thanks To: Random Slytherin 1. As she'd say, and now I say to her. "You are my muse." Thank you for writing your delightfully slashy/fluff fics!
Questions? Comments?: The little lavender box does wonders. Flames very welcome. Or, e-mail me. I'm Dragon_Lady_Rillen@yahoo.com. Thank you for reading. As always, Slip into the darkness. Join me for a drink down at the Dove. Drink, write, read, be merry.
Ah, the much hated disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns them all. I own, let's see. Ah yes, nothing.
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Harry grumbled as he slid from bed. It was sometime in the middle of January, and even the roaring fires couldn't keep the bitter cold out. No, the fires did nothing. Nothing to warm the soul of a fifteen-year-old boy, who felt as if something was missing from his life.
Sure, he had friends. He almost even had a family. He was famous. The Boy Who Lived. Who could ask for anything more? Harry could. In his four and a half years at Hogwarts, he'd never found what he needed. Love.
For a year, second year, Harry was sure he was in love with Hermione, but, it took blind eyes not to see how she fancied Ron. And Ron. Ron, his best friend. The one person he could tell almost everything, didn't know his biggest secret of all.
Harry fumbled into his robes, careful not to wake the still sleeping Gryffindors. With a dejected sigh, he slid from the room, and down into the Common Room, where he sat before the fire, staring wistfully into the dancing flames. So similar to the dancing fires in his eyes, Harry thought, with a smug smile. He who would never return the love. He who had sworn his enemy. He who Harry has sworn his enemy. He who had the softest blonde hair, and sharpest eyes. Harry sighed. Never would Draco Malfoy feel for Harry what Harry felt for him. Harry had lost that chance four and a half years ago, by turning away the hand Draco had only been offering in friendship.
Harry knew he had done right in not accepting the friendship. Draco was smug, and cruel, yet Harry loved him. Loved him more then the blonde haired boy could have ever guessed.
*
Draco wandered the empty halls of Hogwarts alone, stopping in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. So many people in there, that he was supposed to hate. Yet, one person in there that he did not.
Oh sure, being a Malfoy meant hating any Mudblood, Muggle or anyone who wasn't in Slytherin, for that matter. It also extended as far as not liking those who didn't support Voldemort, which, in all actuality was a great many people. Why'd he hate Potter so, he'd ask himself. But he never could come up with an answer. Sure, Potter had defeated Voldemort on several occasions. But, no, that wasn't it. For one, Draco had always been a bit edgy when it came to Voldemort. He had seen what he did to his followers, and he didn't like it. But, it was his future. Decided for him by his father.
His father. Draco shuddered at those words. Lucius Malfoy, wasn't what any normal kid would call a father. They'd never played Quidditch together on long summer afternoons. They'd never wandered down Diagon Alley with out a purpose above time together. The only thing Lucius Malfoy wanted to know about his son was "How are you making our family look?" To which, Draco always responded. "The best."
The best at what? Being rich and considering themselves above everyone else?
Draco swore under his breath, silently cursing his own name.
It was then that the portrait swung open, and a boy with unruly black hair, and shining emerald eyes stepped out.
"Potter?!?"
"Malfoy!?!"
"What are you doing here?" they both asked.
"Well," Harry began, a slight edge, much less then normal, to his voice, "it is my House. What's your excuse?"
Draco narrowed his eyes. "None of your business, Potter. What's it to you if I walk by your House?"
Harry shook his head and shrugged, and walked off, with a sigh.
Draco watched the boy walk off. Why, oh why am I so cruel to him? Draco asked himself, with a frown. You'd think I could treat the one person I love right, even if his mother was a Mudblood. Even though he is my rival. Even though I've sworn my hatred of him. Even if my father wants me to hate him. I can't. I can't hate him.
*
Harry boredly thumbed through a book in the library, but he wasn't reading. He was thinking. He'd just met his crush outside his House, and what had he done? Demanded an explanation. He laughed at himself. Not that it even matters. What would happen if I was nice to him? He'd laugh in my face. No, all I have are my fantasies, and that's all I'll ever have.
Just then, a first year came up to Harry and shyly tapped him on the shoulder.
Harry, surprised turned quickly.
"You're a prefect right?" the boy asked.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, but what are you doing out so early?"
The boy's expression turned glum. "I'm having a bit of trouble with my Potions homework."
Harry grinned at the boy. "Need some help?"
The boy nodded and Harry offered him a seat and they bent over the Potions book.
*
Harry sighed as he slid down into the warm waters of the Prefect's bath. Finally, a place where he could be alone for a while and think. With in minutes, Harry was leaning against the edge of the foam-covered bath, eyes closed, thinking about everything he hadn't had time to think about in ages.
He heard a small splash from the other end and looked up.
Draco. At the other end of the bath, covered in foam to the chest.
Harry's heart stopped for a few seconds. When he finally managed to speak, he said, "I was just leaving."
"Sure you were, Potter. So? Too proud to share a bath with a Slytherin?" he drawled, eyes glinting.
Harry's eyes flashed. "I never said that, Malfoy."
Draco shrugged and leaned against the bath wall, looking at Harry calculatingly. "We both know you meant it." He smirked.
Harry scowled at him.
"It's a pity you'd have to come over here to beat me, eh Potter?" Draco drawled.
Harry glared at him, his heart beating faster then it had before. He wouldn't get out in front of Draco, no. He couldn't do that. Thankfully, Draco turned to add some type of scent, that of rain, Harry mused, to the bath. Harry took this time to dash from the bath, and pull on a robe, before grabbing his clothes and disappearing into the connecting room.
Draco turned to see Harry sliding from the room, and couldn't help but watch him. The way he moved with a cat like grace, the way his hair, dripping, still stuck out in odd directions.
"God Potter. What are you afraid of? The big bad wolf?"
Harry turned to look out into the bath. Seeing Draco's sneer like grin, he shook his head, dressed, and then combed his unruly hair. Little did he know, Draco watched him the whole time.
*
Harry needed quiet. He needed alone. But it seemed everywhere he went to think, about a certain blonde Slytherin, someone was there. The library was no good. The Gryffindor Common room wasn't even too great. Hermione and Ron always snogging… Harry thought hard. Where could he think? Then, finally, it dawned on him. A hidden tower. Known only to a few. The Weasley twins, perhaps, Dumbledore maybe, and Harry himself. Yes, he told himself, you can go there and think all you want. Harry slid from the Gryffindor common room, his Invisibility Cloak tucked under one arm, for the return journey, of course. He quickly sidled to the fourth floor, right corridor, and then, spying the painting he'd been looking for, one of the endless starry sky, Harry ran forward, and disappeared.
Grinning at his own cleverness, Harry climbed the winding stairs, and sat himself down against the wall of the small room atop the tower, and gazed out into the star-speckled night sky.
*
"Potter?!?"
"Malfoy!?!"
"Why are you everywhere I am, Potter?" Draco asked, leaning against the doorframe, no doubt knowing how tempting he looked.
"I came up here to think," said Harry, glaring at the other boy.
Draco shrugged. "Something else we have in common, eh Potter? Do you come up here often?"
Harry looked into Draco's eyes, trying to weed out the insult, but there was none. For once.
"Twice a week, maybe. But, really, I was just leaving." Harry picked up the Cloak and went to slide past Harry. But, the Slytherin blocked the door.
"Not so fast Potter." Hard gray eyes met glinting green ones, as Harry stood, only inches away from the boy, who stood no more then a hand width taller than him.
Harry gave Draco a harshly confused look, and went to tell the boy to move, but found Draco closer to him. Startled, Harry tried to back up a pace, but backed into the hard stonewall.
Draco was giving him his usual half grin, an odd, odd, sparkle to his eyes. Now or never, he thought to himself and moved closer to Harry, and very quickly brushed his lips against the other boy's.
Harry's heart skipped a beat, as he felt warm breath, and soft lips on his own. But, the cool night air quickly jerked him back to the moment. "Malfoy!" he said quickly, "You're a- and I'm not- you know- erm…" A trick perhaps? thought Harry.
Draco rolled his eyes, and pushed past Harry to sit down. "Relax Potter. It was just a kiss."
Harry sat down hard on the floor, a few feet away from Draco. "But…Draco, I'm not-"
"You just called me by my first name!" Draco exclaimed, his drawl fading, in surprise.
"Erm… I mean…eh, Malfoy. Malfoy, I'm not-"
"Oh shut your mouth Harry," Draco said, rolling his eyes.
Harry shut his mouth, yet his eyes widened. "You just called me by my first name!"
"What does it matter anymore?" Draco asked bitterly, his face clouding.
Harry's brows knit. "What are you on about?"
"You wouldn't understand," said Draco, but his usual bitterness didn't accompany the words.
Harry nodded, and the boys sat in silence, Harry staring out the window, Draco staring out the window, but occasionally glancing at Harry.
"Draco?" Harry asked, quietly.
"Hmm?" came the bored reply.
"You kissed me before."
Draco sighed, and turned to Harry. "Yes, I know. I thought we'd established that fact."
Darkness flashed over the green eyes, but Harry bit his lip. "Do it again?"
"What?!?" Draco exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise.
Harry's face clouded as Draco's had. "I knew it was a trick….part of me knew it!" he spat.
"Relax!" Draco said, a bit harshly, but his voice softened. "I only meant to ask if you were sure." A grin pulled at the corners of his soft, full mouth. "As you said, you're not-," Draco laughed softly, and red twinged Harry's cheeks.
Seeing the raven-haired boys obvious discomfort, Draco asked again, gently. "Are you sure?"
Harry looked up into the blazing gray eyes, and mutely nodded.
Draco eased himself closer, and with all possible tenderness, laid a sweet kiss on the other boy's soft, warm lips. The kiss ended almost as quickly as it had begun, leaving the boys to look in each other's eyes. Both of them looked very surprised.
"I've been waiting so long to do that," Draco confided.
Harry bit his lip. "I've just been waiting. Don't make me wait anymore, Draco."
Draco smiled, one of the first sincere smiles he'd seen on the pale boy's face. "I surely wouldn't do that." And this time, when he kissed the boy, he let his mouth linger on Harry's, gently parting Harry's lips with his warm tongue.
Harry let out a soft moan and felt strong arms around him, and a warm fire blaze through him. This was what he wanted. This was how things were supposed to be.
When the boys broke from the tender, yet passionate kiss, neither spoke, but Harry felt for Draco's hand.
"Still enemies?" Harry finally asked, smiling ever so slightly.
"By day," Draco mused.
"And by night?"
Draco grinned, and kissed Harry once more, pulling the other boy into a tight embrace. Neither of them said anything after that. And neither of them let go.
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Finished, have you? My very first piece of slash. It could have been worse, eh? If you didn't like it, flame away! If you did like it, well, I'm glad. See the pearly button below? Clicky click it so I know how I did? Please? Thanks!