Chapter Summary: Some feelings come to light and Harry finds himself ensnared.

AN: A quick update! Hope you enjoy this one!

After the Rain Falls
Chapter 9: Plant One on Him

He felt like a dead fish. Useless and exhausted, with unblinking eyes that stared down at the table in front of him blankly. He hadn't gotten a single wink of sleep after running out of the Room of Requirement, instead spending the remaining hours of the night slumped in a random corner somewhere on the fourth floor. He barely managed to crawl back to Gryffindor Tower in time to change for classes, dodging Hermione and Ron's bombardment of concerned questions as he sped past them without comment. They clearly hadn't slept either, and perhaps he should have been less dismissive of them, but he simply wasn't ready to face them.

He hid behind the drapes of his bed after dressing for several minutes, and briefly considered staying there for the day and skipping out on class entirely. Wednesday was one of his less demanding schedules. He would miss Transfiguration and Charms, but could perhaps grab a nap and still make it to his Magical Mysteries elective in the late afternoon. He sighed, scratching at his elbows anxiously. It wasn't right of him to ignore Ron and Hermione like this. He didn't want another rift to form, and it took sheer force of will to drag himself out of bed. He met his friends in the common room with watery eyes, fingers clasped around the strap of his book bag listlessly. He was grateful it was still early. They were the only ones there, and Hermione and Ron both stood at the sight of him, this time waiting for him to approach them instead. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to explain. But somehow the words just wouldn't come.

He stepped close, and Hermione grasped Ron's arm to keep him from speaking, looking at Harry carefully before wrapping her arms around him in a silent embrace. He trembled in her hold, and then pressed his face into her robes and let himself cry. He whispered an apology against her chest but she merely hushed him and rubbed at his back. Ron joined not long after, encompassing him from the other side and muttering into his ear, "We're here for you mate."

The hug had helped. And he was grateful for their support. But it didn't fix the sinking feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't keep his thoughts away from the scan. Away from that swirling darkness consuming his mind. He couldn't even bring himself to put any food on his plate, instead resorting to sipping on a glass of juice quietly as he tried to will away his nausea.

At some point, Ron leaned in beside him and whispered, "I don't meant to alarm you, but Malfoy's staring at you. And it's…kinda intense," and that did draw his attention briefly away from his musing. He glanced across the Great Hall, gaze shifting back down quickly when he caught sight of Draco's sullen stare. He looked just as drained as the rest of them, perhaps even more so, and Harry remembered suddenly that Draco hadn't napped for a single moment throughout the night, instead working away tirelessly on his spell.

It seemed the entirety of Slytherin had chosen to give him a wide birth that morning, keeping their distance on either side. And it was no wonder. His aura was…dreadful. Harry could practically see the storm clouds swirling above him at the table. He looked a mess. Harry sucked in his lower lip and took another sip of his drink, feeling slightly remorseful for having abandoned him so abruptly.

The mail arrived then, and Harry blearily watched as a letter floated down towards his empty plate, settling atop it and standing out starkly against the white ceramic. He set his glass down and pulled the letter into his lap, grazing the familiar seal on the envelope with his thumb. Harry hazarded another quick glance across the hall only to immediately regret doing so. Intense was an understatement. Draco looked like he was trying to cast reducto on the entire hall with only his mind. He shuddered and cracked the seal, easing the envelope open before pulling out the letter to read it.

Meet me in the library before class.

-D. Malfoy

"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked, her tone soft as she not so subtly placed half a muffin on his plate. Harry sighed and tucked the letter away before reaching out to shove a tiny piece of it in his mouth. It tasted bland and the texture was immediately unwelcoming against his tongue.

"It's…Draco. He just wants to meet up to work on our potions project some more," Harry muttered.

"…Right," Ron drawled, and he looked across the hall towards Draco's harrowing presence. "Good luck with that." The Slytherin stood then, and left the Great Hall in a hurry, drawing the attention of nearly the entire room when the doors slammed shut behind him. "What a weirdo, so formal. He could have just asked like a normal person."

"I should go," Harry said, and he grabbed his book bag and slid out from the bench, even as Hermione protested loudly. She somehow still managed to shove a few wrapped pastries into his pockets before he escaped.

Harry took his time heading to the library, and he figured Draco would be busy taking notes by the time he arrived, but instead he was standing propped up against one of the shelves near the table they usually worked at. His arms were crossed, and he narrowed his eyes when Harry stepped closer. Harry took off his bag and plopped it on the table, pulling out a few books and scattered notes into his arms. He didn't have time to set them down before Draco grabbed hold of him, pushing him back into a shelf rather harshly. Harry gasped and clung to the books in his arms tightly, looking up into Draco's grey eyes in surprise.

"You're not him," Draco said, his voice low and laced with a surprising amount of anger. Harry licked his lips and avoided his gaze. He wasn't expecting this. Perhaps a quiet lecture about not telling someone where he'd gone, or a criticism for his lack of rest or meagre morning meal. But not this.

"I know," Harry muttered listlessly, and Draco huffed loudly and shook his head. He looked around the room, at the curious glances the few students present were directing their way and then pulled him to the back of the library where they were largely hidden in a nook at the far end of the aisle.

Draco pressed him up against the shelf again, less harshly this time, but still holding him firmly in place. "No, you don't," he hissed. Harry swallowed nervously. It had been a long time since he'd been on the other end of such a volatile stare. Even in the manor it hadn't been quite like this. "You've got it set in your mind that there's a part of him in you."

"There is, you saw it yourself!" Harry nearly shouted, only quieting when Draco grabbed him by the collar and gritted his teeth at him in warning.

"I saw traces of magic, and nothing more," Draco urged.

"Dark magic, his magic."

"Even if it is his magic, it doesn't change who you are!" Draco sneered. He let go of Harry's collar then, but he didn't step away, placing his arms on either side of Harry's head as he stared down at him. "I bet you could cast that scan on me and see some of it as well. Maybe not as much, or as complex, but I can guarantee it'd be there," he insisted. Harry shifted against the shelves behind him and tightened his arms around the books he held. "You're a hero." The comment made Harry scoff and look away. "You may not believe it, but you are," Draco insisted. He breathed in deeply, letting out a long sigh and then muttered, "You're so bloody Gryffindor it hurts sometimes."

Harry swallowed as he stared at his reflection in the clasp on Draco's robes. It was distorted and elongated, and made Harry's face look like it was contorting in pain. Rather disturbing, if he was honest, but it was better than facing Draco.

"Look at me."

The order caught him off guard, and Harry tilted his chin up hesitantly, surprised by the look in Draco's eyes. His previous ire had apparently dissipated, and he stared at Harry almost gently. He didn't speak right away, instead studying every inch of Harry's face before settling again on Harry's eyes like he had gotten lost in them unawares. Draco sighed and wilted slightly before he spoke. "What you saw in that scan…were the traces he left behind. Traces that can hopefully one day be removed, if I can actually manage to refine the spell enough to make it useful," Draco said. His arms slid down a bit, hands settling against the bookshelf level with Harry's shoulders. "And yeah, he fucked you up a bit. All of us, really. But it doesn't change who you are here." Draco dragged his arm down in between them and pressed a finger into Harry's chest, just over his heart.

Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he teared up a bit as the gentle pressure held him firmly in place. He glanced down. It was just a single finger, but it felt like Draco had spelled him there, frozen him in time. He didn't have the strength to push against it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He let his head fall back against the shelf and peered up at Draco wearily. His eyelashes had clumped together, and he blinked away the unshed tears with little success. He felt so lost. And when he asked, "Who am I?" his voice was shaky and full of pain. Barely audible even within the silence of the surrounding library.

Draco eyed him in surprise, and then his gaze softened even further. He dropped his other hand, fingers dragging down Harry's arm towards his elbow. It tingled a bit beneath his touch, and Harry's grip on the books nearly slipped when Draco's fingers grazed over his forearm to settle against his wrist, the hand on his chest now splayed flat against his shirt.

"You're Harry," Draco whispered.

It left him reeling, and Harry took an unsteady breath and let out a nervous laugh. It was all he wanted, really. To be seen as Harry. Just Harry. And if even Draco could see him like that…maybe, just maybe, it would be alright. He ducked his head, and shuffled the books into a single arm, lifting the other to wipe his sleeve over his face and beneath his glasses. It took him several minutes to settle down, and Draco watched him silently the entire time.

He was sure he looked awful. He was an ugly crier. Always had been. His eyes swelled up, his nose and cheeks reddened, and he looked an absolute mess. Something that had bothered him incessantly, especially when the press had a particular aptitude for capturing him at his worst. Still, he smiled slightly, and shoved at the front of Draco's robes. Not enough to push him anywhere, just enough to nudge him in place. "You asked me here to tell me all that? That's not like you Malfoy," Harry teased.

"Malfoy again, am I?"

Harry looked up at him, meeting Draco's searching gaze. "What, you don't like it when I call you that?"

Draco rolled his eyes and sneered, "Insufferable little brat," but there was no malice in it. And then he bent low, so that their noses were nearly touching. "I prefer when you call me Draco."

If Harry hadn't been flushed before, he certainly was now. He felt somewhat trapped, against the shelving, with Draco's arms encasing him and holding him in place. But Draco's expression was playful, and when those grey eyes shifted to look towards his lips, Harry found he didn't much want to escape. His heart stuttered, and his breathing hitched. "D-Dra-,"

Then there were lips against his own, pressing gently, in a short, but unrushed single kiss. Harry froze, vision blurring as a strange feeling encompassed him. He felt cold and hot all at once. Like he was about to jump out of his own skin. There was a quick break, and he could feel Draco's heavy breathing against his cheekbones, and then they were kissing again, slightly deeper this time. It was warm and a little wet, but not unpleasantly so, and Harry's eyes fluttered shut involuntarily. He melted into it, and when Draco's tongue slid along his lower lip enticingly Harry moaned and dropped his books to the ground. Papers flew out around them, and Harry gasped when Draco fell away from his lips.

"Shit," Harry muttered as he watched the scattered parchment settle around them. He was shaking, and felt lightheaded, and his fingers tentatively touched his lips as he scrambled to the ground to start picking up the mess. He could feel the flush upon his skin. It burned across his neck and chest, over the tips of his ears and the entirety of his face. Viciously red and very telling.

Then Draco muttered a simple spell, whisking up the rest of the books and papers into Harry's trembling arms. It took a matter of seconds, and Harry teetered on unsteady knees and glanced up at his tall figure timidly.

"You're a wizard, Harry," Draco drawled, and Harry stared at him, completely entranced. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, no matter how much he tried to regulate it. He grasped at his chest over his rapidly beating heart and watched as Draco walked backwards away from him with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Draco offered him a sultry smirk, and shortly after, it turned into a soft almost reverent smile. Then he ducked his head and walked away, leaving a very stunned Harry resting on his haunches atop the ground.

It was devastating. In the best way possible of course.

Harry practically collapsed into his seat beside Ron as he arrived to Transfiguration class. His papers flew out across the table, one of his quills rolling away and dropping to the floor with a clatter. He was still flushed, and in complete disarray, and as he leaned over to pick up his quill it evaded his trembling fingers repeatedly like a firefly in the night's sky.

"Just in the nick of time, Mr. Potter," Professor Slughorn stated as Harry sat back up, and then the doors shut, and he began writing the lesson plan on the board at the front of the classroom.

Ron leaned forwards, taking in Harry's appearance with narrowed eyes as he unsuccessfully attempted to dodge his scrutiny. "What happened to you?" Ron asked quietly. "Or do I even want to know?"

"I…Draco kissed me," Harry blurted. He stared straight ahead, willing the flush on his skin to fade away to no avail.

"What?!" Harry jerked away from his friend at the shout, and several nearby students turned to look at the two of them. Even Professor Slughorn twisted around and offered them a curious raise of his brow before returning to his writing. Ron lowered his voice slightly and whispered this time, "Was it…an accident?'

"What do you mean," Harry muttered incredulously. "How could it have been an accident?"

"I was just wondering," Ron insisted. Then he tugged lightly on Harry's robes and yanked him closer. "So it was for real then, for real for real?" At Harry's quick nod Ron let him go. "And it was definitely him?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes it was him."

There was a long pause in their conversation as Professor Slughorn started the lesson, and the two of them hurried to pull out their textbooks and scratch down some notes hastily. Harry could feel Ron staring at him, and he caught his gaze and hissed under his breath, "What?"

Ron made a strange face, showing off the dimple in his cheek and then leaned in close. "Well…how was it?"

"Ron!"

Harry's shout echoed throughout the classroom, and Professor Slughorn startled, dropping his wand atop his desk with a clatter. "Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, anything you would like to share with the class?" he asked, eyeing the two of them in a perplexed manner, and they ducked their heads and returned to writing.

"No sir, sorry sir," both of them muttered in unison. Professor Slughorn seemed satisfied with that, shaking his head once as he returned to demonstrating how to transfigure the desk in front of him into a fully grown tree. The class gasped as branches burst free from the wood, shooting out towards the walls of the room and sprouting cherry blossoms that rained down around them. As the petals fell atop their heads Harry ripped a piece of parchment out of his notes and scribbled on it before passing it carefully to Ron.

It was bloody amazing.

He shared a look with his friend, and then Ron snorted under his breath and nudged him lightly in the side. "You and Malfoy. I still can't believe it," Ron whispered. "But if it works, it works I guess."

Harry actively avoided Draco for nearly two days, skittering around corners at the sight of his confident stride, and ducking into classrooms whenever he caught a hint of pale blond hair in the distance. It was absolutely foolish of him of course, but he just didn't know how to face him without turning into a pile of goo atop the stones beneath his feet.

It wasn't as if he…didn't like what had happened. He did. Far too much. And that was part of the problem.

Unfortunately, Friday morning arrived, and with it double Potions. It was a regular lab day, and they would be graded on the day's assignment at the end of the class. If he failed to show up, simply put, they would fail the assignment altogether. He might have been fine with that, but he wasn't willing to sacrifice Draco's grades as a result of his own apparent cowardice.

Harry arrived later than usual, taking a steadying breath before he eased down in his seat next to Draco. He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, and he knew Draco was watching him as he fumbled with his supplies and blushed despite his best efforts.

After they were given their assignment, Draco left to gather their ingredients and Harry let out a breath of air. Draco smelled good. Just like usual. Though he couldn't quite place the scent. He looked good too. With his shirt partly unbuttoned, and his hair casually styled. Harry clenched his fingers in his pants when he watched Draco walk back to the table, sauntering over in that confident carefree way of his. How was he always so well composed?

Draco sat beside him, setting down the ingredients between them. He peered at Harry, resting his elbow on the desk. Then he leaned over, breathing against the side of Harry's face. "Relax Harry, I don't bite, unless that's what you want of course," Draco whispered into his ear, and Harry startled, scrambling away from him and nearly knocking over the cauldron sitting on the desk in front of him. Draco reached out to steady it, turning towards him with a scowl. "Get a hold of yourself, you're acting like a bloody Hufflepuff," Draco hissed. Then he paused, taking in Harry's nervous jitters. "What's wrong with you?"

"Y-you kissed me," Harry stuttered. He tugged his sleeves down over his fingers and held his hands in his lap.

"And?"

Harry flinched slightly and took a single steadying breath before asking, "Why?" He didn't think Draco was simply…playing with his feelings. At least he hoped he wasn't. But a not so small part of him truly didn't understand what Draco could possibly want with him.

There was no response right away, but eventually Draco put his head in his hands, pressing his fingers into his brow. "Are you really that daft," he muttered. Harry scowled and then reached for the dandelion root. He pulled it in front of himself and started chopping at it aggressively, just barely missing the ends of his fingers on more than one occasion.

"Calm down, give me that," Draco sneered, and then he pried the knife from Harry's fingers. Harry slumped in his seat, and ignored the frequent glances Draco sent him as he worked through the instructions for the potion. Draco took care of the bulk of the work for their assignment, only speaking occasionally to give Harry simple instructions.

"Stir 25 times, counter clockwise."

"No not like that. Better."

"Watch the flame."

"Crush the beetle shells."

"Add a sprinkle of salt."

"Dice these. Be careful."

"Good."

In truth, Harry was grateful for the guidance. He would have been completely useless without it. Harry focused on each direction attentively and when they finished he sighed in relief, then offered to put away their supplies. He took his time, setting each ingredient back on the shelves in the storage cabinet with care. The other students had long since left, and Harry wondered if Draco was already gone as well. He rubbed at his face, and then dragged his fingers around to the back of his neck, doing his best to rub the tension free from his tense muscles.

He heard the sudden steps behind him and turned his head, twisting his body when Draco strolled in. His heart rate skyrocketed, and he shivered when Draco's piercing gaze settled on him. It was not unlike the way he'd felt when Draco had cornered him in the library. Only now they were very much alone. Harry swallowed, and Draco stepped up to him, crowding him into the edge of the storage closet.

Draco grabbed Harry's chin, lifting his head up so he was forced to meet the icy stare head on. "Listen to me, because I'm only going to say this once," Draco breathed. "I kissed you, because against my better judgement, I apparently like you."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He stared at Draco stupidly, in open mouthed wonder, even well after his chin was released. "Y-you like me?" Harry stuttered. And then he caught sight of the edge of Draco's lips, lifting in that same tempting smirk that absolutely ruined him every time he saw it. Harry blushed and looked down.

"Are you sure you were sorted into the right house? Seems like you might have been better suited to Hufflepuff," Draco said, and Harry smiled and shoved him lightly away.

"You know, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin," he admitted.

"Really," Draco muttered. "You'd make a shit Slytherin," he added shortly after.

"I take that as a compliment."

Draco frowned distastefully, and let his head fall back as he stared up at the ceiling in fake horror. Harry laughed at the way he stood there, grasping at his heart like he'd been stabbed with an arrow, then Harry grabbed at his robes, yanking his body closer. Draco fell against him, leaning heavily into his form, and Harry squeaked when Draco's arms lifted to hang over his shoulders loosely. The two of them stared at each other, and Harry felt a little dizzy from the intimacy of it.

"Hey," Harry muttered. "Slytherins aren't all bad."

"Oh?"

Draco waited patiently, like he wanted him to elaborate, and Harry figured it was now or never. "Um…I…like you too," he admitted, staring up at him through his glasses with honest eyes. Something in Draco's expression shifted, and then he moved quickly, grabbing at the back of Harry's head. His fingers entangled in the curly strands of hair and pulled, tilting Harry's head back at a sharp angle. And then they were kissing again. Only it wasn't like their last kiss at all. This was far more…intense. Like Draco was trying to consume his very soul.

Harry's fingers tightened in the fabric of Draco's shirt, and he made a strange desperate noise in the back of his throat as his glasses shifted and pressed against his skin. Draco kissed along Harry's lower lip and then his tongue was prodding at him, urging Harry to grant him entrance inside his mouth. And he did. With great pleasure.

Harry's mind went blank. He'd never felt anything quite like this before. His skin seared where Draco touched his face, the column of his neck, the dip in his collar bone. He went completely lax, hanging in Draco's hold limply as he let him take everything he wanted. The fingers in his hair tightened again, and Harry gasped as one of Draco's legs eased between his knees, and then he was pulled close, a hand pressed tightly at the small of his back.

Merlin. It was far too much.

Harry shivered in Draco's hold, revelled in the sharp lines of the body pressed against his own. He heard Draco groan and then he was tripping over his feet as Draco shoved him back against the shelves. The vials shook dangerously around them, and Draco paused for a moment, staring down at him heatedly. There was a shadow over Draco's eyes, and Harry couldn't properly see his expression. But he felt the energy in the air. The passion that threatened to overtake them. And when Draco's lips latched on to the edge of Harry's jaw and made their way down the length of his throat, it was as if nothing else existed in the world. Draco sucked at the junction between his neck and shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark, and Harry was given little time to process it before those lips were back atop his own.

Draco was an incredible kisser. His mouth moved over Harry's in a demanding way, but not harshly, and Harry succumbed to the force of it willingly. Draco felt solid, pressed up against him so determinedly. And he smelled divine. Like cinnamon, Harry suddenly realised. And something richer. Almost woodsy. Perhaps a bit sweet like the chocolates he liked to eat. It reminded him of nature, and flying, and everything he loved about magic. Harry breathed in the scent eagerly, already feeling addicted to immersing himself in whatever it was.

The tingling sensation running through his body and swirling in his belly only increased the longer they kissed, and Harry felt his arousal getting a bit out of hand. He was certain he felt Draco's as well. Pressing into his hip urgently as it increased in size. He whimpered, and then the hand at his back lowered slowly, lingering tauntingly just above the swell of his arse. He was so completely spellbound by Draco that he almost didn't hear the approaching humming, and it wasn't until Draco pushed himself away, practically crashing into the shelves opposite him, that he was really able to discern it from the ringing in his ears. The two of them stood there, breathing heavily and staring at each other with wide eyes as Professor Flitwick rounded the corner into the room.

"Oh! Pardon me! I thought this class was out of session! Just finishing up are you?" Flitwick asked, and he pranced further into the storage area and peered up at the labels beside Draco's head. "Could you do me a favour and reach one of the Pepperups just up there?"

Draco staggered a bit, standing up straight as he reached up for the requested potion and handed it off to Flitwick. Harry could see the slight tremor in his hand as he did so, but he was impressed that Draco had enough poise to keep from dropping it entirely. "Thank you ever so much," Flitwick prattled, and then he looked towards Harry and narrowed his eyes, lifting his glasses slightly as he studied him in concern. "Mr. Potter, are you running a fever? You look a bit flushed?" Harry stammered, unable to properly form words, and then Flitwick pulled something off one of the lower shelves and handed it to him. "Here, that should help bring it down," he uttered before making his way back out into the classroom. Harry grasped the vial between his fingers tightly, running his thumb across the label that declared it as a Fever Reducing Formula.

He slumped slightly against the shelving, and then stared at Draco, pressing his knuckles against his lips shakily. The two of them stared at one another, making no sign of moving, and when the warning bell chimed, signalling the start of lunchtime, Harry jumped and hastily straightened out his robes. He shoved the potion in his hands back onto the shelves, and with one last glance towards Draco began to hurry away.

"Wait!" Draco shouted, grabbing hold of Harry before he was able to scurry past. He tugged Harry close, pulled him right back against his chest. One hand settled behind Harry's waist, the other at the edge of his ear, and he stared down at Harry's eyes with a furrowed brow. Draco kissed him again, softly, gently, bending low to meet his lips. It lasted just a few seconds, and Harry teetered forwards when Draco pulled away, wishing it had gone on for longer. It was so easy to get lost in him. So easy to forget anything else existed. Draco framed Harry's face with his hands, holding him gently in place as he studied him closely. "Is this okay?"

It took a moment for Harry to register the words, but once he did, he nodded quickly, and was overwhelmingly happy when Draco leaned back down for another chaste kiss. The two of them grinned after, trying and failing to keep from smiling against each other's lips. And if they arrived quite a bit late for their meal, looking flushed, and with kiss swollen lips, so be it.

The Battle of Hogwarts left an overwhelming amount of debris, among other things, floating in the water of The Black Lake, especially along the edge that lined the castle ramparts. And though the bulk of it had been barricaded from crossing over into the rest of the waters, it was still long overdue for its removal. Several creatures relied on the lake for a place to call home, and it was quite honestly abysmal that it had been left as long as it had. But Autumn had passed quickly, and with Winter came the ice, making excursions into the lake for such grand projects rather difficult.

Mid February was certainly not the most ideal time of year for students to be traipsing through the frigid waters cleaning up the mess, but it was when The Black Lake Clean-up Project had been squeezed in regardless. It turned out that the dour state of the lake had been contributing to the Giant Squid's illness, and doing who knows what to everything else down in the deeps. So in an urgent attempt to make for a better deep sea living space, various professors had come together to warm the lake enough for the venture. Several charms had been cast throughout the area, thawing the frozen surface so that students could wade throughout and pull rubble and garbage from the depths in relative comfort, and a large bubble of warm air swirled above, heating the space to a comfortable level. It was like a hot springs, on Hogwarts grounds. And once the work had been completed, the teachers agreed that a small, safe area of the lake could be left under the charms temporarily, as a reward for the hard work so many of the students had put into tidying the space.

Hermione sat at the edge of the water, watching as Harry clung onto Draco's shoulders a bit away. He wasn't quite tall enough to touch the ground and keep his head fully above the surface, but Draco was, and he walked through the water with Harry floating along behind him, acting as Harry's personal floatation device. He paused for a moment to push back his wet hair, shaking some of the moisture from it. The action caused the shirt he was wearing to shift over his muscles, the thin white fabric clinging to his skin even more than before. He muttered something quietly, and when Harry laughed loudly in response, his head turned and he smiled, looking at Harry like he'd hung the moon and stars.

It had been like this for several weeks now, the two of them, acting like lovesick puppies. It was obvious they were together, and yet, not entirely. They never kissed in public, or held hands, or said anything overtly romantic. Like they were dancing around each other in the shadows and not quite ready to step fully into the light. But it was obvious to anyone who really looked that there was more to this…than simple friendship.

There had always been a certain intensity about their relationship. Even when they'd been spitting insults and sneering down their noses as first year students, they'd done so like their anger had been fuelled by the very construct of magic itself. If Harry was the hottest and most dangerous of flames, then Draco was the coldest and most biting winter's ice. And the way they expressed their love, was much the same.

Their fingers often met in a gentle graze when they passed each other in the halls, which left the other party reeling in the wake of even such a barely there touch. And there were Draco's sultry smirks, laced with promises of things to come, and Harry's penchant for turning red as a tomato whenever he caught sight of one. Their eyes searched each other out near constantly, and when they met, it was like the world stopped around them. And though Harry was still struggling immensely with his…condition, he seemed lighter, happier. Like he was looking forward to what was to come instead of dreading the passing of time.

Simply put, Hermione didn't think she'd ever seen Harry looking so full of life. Especially not since the war. She was happy for him, and perhaps a little bit envious of the surprisingly gorgeous snack of a man he had managed to snag.

"Malfoy has no business looking like that," Hermione muttered woefully. "Though I suppose he does play Quidditch. But Harry plays Quidditch, and it's not the same. How is he built like that?"

"Hey, what about me? I'm literally right here," Ron complained, and Hermione pursed her lips and waved her hand at him dismissively.

"A girl can look," she insisted, and then she sighed and turned towards him. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about. I'm clearly not his type, and he's most definitely not mine. And you know I love you Ron." She placed her hand on his, and Ron grinned and turned his palm upwards, holding on to her fingers gently. She did love him. Nothing would ever change that. But it also didn't change the fact that Draco was an annoyingly good looking man.

She turned back towards to water and watched as Draco threw Harry from his body before dunking him beneath the water entirely. Harry resurfaced with flapping arms, sputtering the water from his mouth as he shook the wet strands of hair from his face. He scrunched up his eyes, and without his glasses on he looked like a lost puppy, blinking at Draco owlishly as he wiped the water from his face and struggled to keep afloat. Draco stared right back at him, then Harry splashed him with water suddenly and he scowled while Harry's laughter rang out over the lake. Draco swatted at him and then pulled him close, pushing back Harry's hair as he looked down into his eyes. He whispered something, and Harry flushed and shoved at him lightly.

"He's got it bad," Ron said quietly.

"Real bad," someone muttered from behind them, and both Hermione and Ron whipped their heads around, watching as a rather waterlogged Pansy strolled up to the edge of the water beside them. She put her hands on her hips and frowned as she glared out over the lake.

"Which one are you talking about?" Ron asked. And she laughed and started wringing out her soaking skirt.

"Draco of course. And it's about damn time he did something about it," she drawled. "If his ceaseless pining had continued for much longer I might have thrown myself off the top of the astronomy tower merely to escape it." Hermione stared at Pansy for a moment, and met her gaze with a questioning raise of her eyebrow. "What?" Pansy asked indignantly. "I've had to listen to him prattle on about Potter ever since I've known him. Self-fulfilling prophecy if I've ever seen one. And you know I think that stuff's rubbish."

She untucked her shirt then and started waving it in the air to dry, and Hermione remembered hearing her screech of horror not so long ago when she'd been unwillingly pushed into the water by Ginny of all people. How the two of them had ended up becoming friends was one of the world's greatest mysteries.

Pansy began ranting under her breath then. Something about stupid Gryffindors and their stupid antics and Hermione snickered under her breath and took pity on her, casting a quick drying charm over her clothes. They fluffed up around her and settled, looking brand new and perfectly pressed. Pansy stared down at herself in surprise for a moment and then offered a polite grin of thanks.

"Thank you…Hermione."

She stood there for some time, watching Harry and Draco alongside them, and in no time at all her rants continued, though this time in regards to stupid blonds, and their stupid boyfriends, and their penchant for dragging her along into stupid situations. Hermione couldn't help but agree.

AN: Thanks so much for reading! Did you enjoy? I've come up with several ideas for other Drarry stories to begin after this one in the past week, some of them quite…scandalous. It's been difficult to stay focused!