It wasn't just cold outside. It was bloody fucking freezing. But Draco liked it that way - it made his skin tingle, and made him alert. And it made him feel alive, which was the complete opposite of the way he'd been feeling lately.

To say that Draco was having a hard time was a terrific understatement. He was having more of a breakdown of catastrophic proportions. His father had been gloating for days, rambling on and on about the impending Initiation ceremony. Draco didn't want to be a damn Death Eater. How pathetic. All they did was blindly follow Voldemort, a wreak of a man (if you could call him such) that was bound to fail (again) sooner or later.

Taking over the world just wasn't easy to do.

So Draco and his father had been at odds about his future. He didn't know what he wanted to do (other than specifically *not* being a sad lackey), while his father would demand loyalty, or threaten him with consequences. At this point, his threat of death didn't seem all that unappealing.

He had briefly hoped that his mother would stick up for him, but when was the last time she had done that? (Oh yes, never.) She would stand to the side and look sympathetic, but nod her head enthusiastically when his father (Lucius, to him) would address her. Again, pathetic.

Needing some fresh air, and some time to clear his head, Draco had made his way down to the lake, sitting propped against a tree, relaxing for the first time in days (or was it weeks?). He stared at the moon and the stars, and the darkness that swirled around them. It all seemed very fitting - perhaps a bit melodramatic, but fitting all the same.

He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to calm himself down. And then came the voice.

"Malfoy?" Ah, Potter. How bloody perfect.

Draco opened his eyes. "Potter. How wonderful to meet you here." His tone wasn't sarcastic. It was biting.

The other boy looked curiously at him. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing, you idiot? I'm relaxing."

Harry looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"No. I'm really plotting an attack on you. Now run along, before you meet your messy demise."

To Draco's great annoyance, Harry rolled his eyes and sat down beside him.

"What part of 'sod off' don't you understand?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "I want to relax too. Now shut up and let me sit here."

It was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. However, he kept quiet (hoping Potter would as well) and closed his eyes again.

No more than ten seconds past before Harry said, "Malfoy?"

Draco kept his eyes shut. "Yes, Potter?"

"What are you thinking about?"

Draco sat up. "Trying to be chummy? I thought you wanted to be quiet and relax, and listening to you prattle is most definitely not relaxing."

Harry frowned. "I'm just feeling odd. I don't know - I guess it would be nice to have someone to talk to."

"Haven't you got Granger and that insufferable Weasley?"

"Hmmm, yes. It's just... they don't understand."

"Understand what? That you're an annoying git who comes out here and interrupts the only peace I've had in weeks?"

Harry sighed. "Maybe. It's refreshing to be called an annoying git."

Draco opened an eye in surprise. "Ah. Masochistic now, are we?"

To his amusement, Harry grinned. "Not really. I'm just sick of people treating me so delicately. I'm not going to break, you know."

"Well, when you need someone to tell you how much of am idiot you are, you can always count on me."

Harry looked strangely at him. "It's odd, you know, hearing you say that you'd be around for me, for any reason."

Of course it did. Draco wasn't generally a caring type of person (not that being around to call someone else stupid was a caring thing to do).

Harry was still looking at him.

"What? I know I'm painfully beautiful, but is there any other reason why your eyes are trained on my face?"

Harry looked unfazed. "You're interesting looking, to say the least."

Draco now opened the other eye. "What?"

"I said, you're interesting looking... to say the least."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"I'm not sure," said Harry, still staring. "Would you want it to be?"

Draco had no idea what he wanted it to be. All he wanted to know was what the hell was currently happening? What was the other boy playing at (was it still a game?). Of course it was a game - everything was.

"Potter, I'm not sure why you've chosen tonight to finally lose your mind, but would you mind not dragging me with you?"

Harry laughed harshly. "Sometimes I do wonder if I'm loosing my mind." He flexed and relaxed his fingers, before bringing his hand up to take his glasses off, and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Draco looked intently at him. It was strange to see him without his glasses - in a way he looked more vulnerable, younger... but in another way he looked more dramatic, more real. His vivid green eyes stood out, and his face was unguarded. His emotions showed more clearly.

"I think, at times, we all doubt our sanity," Draco finally said. He shifted his body to a more comfortable position, brushing his arms against Harry (Potter) as he did so.

Harry didn't move away.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you doubt your sanity?"

The question sounded absurd (but it was a good question, in a sense). "Why do I doubt my sanity? Well... for one, I'm currently having a blowout of epic proportions with my family, over my future. Seems they don't want me to have a say in it - not like it's mine, or anything," he said, aware of how Harry (Potter, his name's Potter), too, had shifted.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry shifted again, and now their arms were touching. Draco didn't make a move to change his position.

"Potter?"

"Oh, it's your turn to ruin the silence, eh?"

"Shut up. Why are you really out here?"

Harry (Potter!) sighed. "I told you - I feel strange. I... I feel like... well, like I'm... nothing." He stared straight at Draco, eyes blazing.

Draco wasn't prepared for that. "You what?"

"I feel like I'm nothing." This time it was quieter.

"Maybe we all do..." said Draco, trailing off.

"Sometimes I wish I had someone who understood me," said Harry. He shifted again, and now their legs and torsos were touching as well.

"Don't we all?" asked Draco, turning his head towards the other boy. Their faces were inches apart.

"I wish I had someone that challenged me. Someone that wanted me for me - not for my name." The words were whispered. Draco could feel Harry's (yes, Harry's) breath ghost over his lips.

"I know the feeling."

And then Harry's lips were pressed against his own. It was like a jolt, an electric shock. Draco's hands reached up to grasp Harry's hair, and Harry was opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.

His mouth was hot (like a furnace) and sweet (like honey?). Draco swept his tongue along Harry's teeth, pulled away and nipped at his bottom lip, and then dove back in, fighting with Harry for dominance.

And then Draco was pushing Harry down onto the ground (had he planned this all along?) and was settling himself between his legs. Harry was making soft noises, and it was driving Draco wild. He left Harry's mouth (what happened to their hatred?) and moved his lips onto his neck and collarbone, licking, sucking, nipping.

Harry's hands were moving now, unbuttoning Draco's shirt, feeling the smooth, heated skin. He pushed his robes off him and rolled them over, letting his own mouth claim Draco's skin, repeating the favor, and leaving small marks and bruises along delicate skin.

Harry was moving lower now, hands skillfully undoing Draco's belt, undoing his zipper, pulling down his boxers, and his mouth continued its' trail, and then Draco was engulfed (oh god) and Harry's mouth was burning hot (but it was so good).

Draco was arching now, pushing himself into his rival's mouth, hips leaving the ground. His head was thrown back and his breathing erratic, and then his body was tensing, and then he was releasing. Harry looked into his eyes the entire time, and swallowed everything. Draco wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything more erotic.

He was spent, but he couldn't end now. Draco took a breath and reversed their positions, once again trapping Harry beneath his body. He quickly moved his hands down and tore off the other boy's robes, jeans, and.... well... if Harry damn Potter wasn't going commando (would wonders never cease?).

Harry was staring at him again, his eyes piercing.

"Do it," he said, his voice husky (oh god, when had he become so deliciously bad?), hand grabbing Draco's pulling it to his mouth, sucking slowly on his fingers.

Draco nearly came again, right there.

Harry was finally finished. Draco moved his hands downward and carefully probed him, making the other boy give out the most amazing moan. He pushed deeper, and Harry thrust himself against his fingers (speaking of deliciously bad...), rocking his hips, erection pressing firmly into Draco's.

And then (help him, if he didn't almost come [again] again) Harry licked his own palm and brought it down to Draco's own straining hardness, coating it in saliva, preparing him as well.

Draco positioned himself and pushed in. Harry was tight (incredibly so) and hot (so damn *hot*) and it was perfect (fucking perfect). He tensed a moment, looking down at him.

Harry nodded his head, and Draco thrust in, hitting the sensitive spot inside of Harry, who let out a long, low moan. He thrust in again, picking up the pace, delighting in the noises coming from the boy beneath him.

He moved his hand down and grasped Harry firmly, pumping in time with his thrusts, now moaning himself (their sounds were so nice together), and it was only a matter of moments until Draco was tensing (again) and his world exploded, and he was aware of Harry screaming, and something hot spraying against his stomach...(but he didn't care).

After several minutes (felt like an eternity) Draco pulled out, and rolled over. Harry was breathing deeply, eyes closed, chest heaving. They laid like that, waiting for their breath to even out, for their heartbeats to slow down.

Finally, Draco sat up and collected his clothing. He began dressing, and out of the corner of his eye, saw that Harry was doing the same thing. He wasn't sure what he should say, so he instead turned to Harry.

They looked at each other. Harry stepped closer, but didn't touch him.

"It is nice, to have someone understand," he said, eyes reflecting something Draco couldn't make out.

"It is nice. It's very, very nice."

Finis.