The Nature Of A Man
Disclaimer: The usual. The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling and this work represents a poor fumbling attempt at a Harry Potter story. I really wasn't sure where the story was going but it's rated PG-13 just in case. Read and review. You like it or you don't, just drop me a line at jadewing@hotmail.com if you want to rant or praise longer. Second chapter uploaded today. I really should update more frequently, I suppose, but I want to test the waters and see if people like the newest chapter before updating more. Hey hey, you think the romance is getting too mushy though? I'd really like to hear an opinion about that. I haven't gagged yet when reading the romance bits but it's just me.
"You're awfully silent," Draco remarked later on that night. They were alone in the Slytherin dormitories. Since so many Slytherins had left, Blaise had left Draco alone in this one to take residence in another empty dormitory. They were in Draco's bed, Harry's head pillowed on Draco's chest. He snuggled deeper into Draco's arms, feeling the soft velvety smoothness of Draco's robes against his cheek. A fire was burning and the warmth filled the room, leaving Harry feeling contented and at ease. He could hear Draco's heat beating through the robes and he could smell the scent of Draco's shampoo. He sighed as Draco's fingers stroked his head gently.
"I'm thinking what I should tell Ron and Hermione," Harry told him in a low voice.
"What about Granger and Weasley?" Draco murmured.
"You could call them by their names, you know. I mean, they are my friends after all and …"
"No."
"What?" Harry raised his head, staring at Draco in bafflement. "What do you mean no?"
"I mean," he said, taking Harry's face in his hands, "that we can't let anyone know about this. Have you forgotten about my father?" Draco's face paled. "And him?"
"Yes, but surely Ron and Hermione …" Harry protested.
Draco shook his head. "It's too dangerous. Not yet, at least. Please?" His voice had a pleading tone to it.
Reluctantly, Harry nodded before lying against Draco again. "I don't think I've ever lied to them before … or really kept anything this momentous from them."
Draco laughed bitterly. "I wouldn't know about the whole friend thing, I suppose, so I can't say anything."
"What about Crabbe and Goyle?" Harry asked, surprised.
"They're a combination of jailors and bodyguards, I'd say."
They were silent. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and the pop as the wood was consumed. Harry was feeling so sleepy. It was strange, he mused to himself. Why do I feel so peaceful now but so torn up at the clearing? Acting like this was so seductive, so real that he almost believed it himself. Maybe it felt good just to be two lovers – whether it was true for both of them or not.
"Do you know when I think I fell in love with you?"
Harry looked at him with a smile. "When?"
"When I first saw you." Draco paused, remembering. "I don't think I understood it at first. I was fascinated by you which is why I talked to you. I don't normally do that, you know." Harry laughed throatily. Draco glanced at him. "What? It's true! I'm actually quite shy. Anyway, I guess I messed up then and you hated me."
"I didn't hate you," Harry told him softly. "You were just such a snob. I disliked you, yes, but I don't think I hated you." Draco's arms tightened around him and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's slender waist.
"Then, when did you start hating me?"
"Honestly?"
Draco nodded.
"Probably last year after Cedric. In the train." His voice was low and subdued.
Draco's fingers wiped away a solitary tear from Harry's eyes, and he started, not even realizing that his eyes had welled with tears. But Draco's fingers were so soft and so gentle. "I wanted to see you cry over me – not some other guy. I guess I was jealous."
"But why did you wait so long to say anything?"
He bit his lip. "I didn't understand what it was until I read this book at Flourish and Blotts."
"Love Signs?"
"How …?" Draco bit off his question and smiled with sudden understanding. "You looked for it after I left, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"Did you read it?"
Harry nodded.
Draco sighed. "The symptoms sounded so much like us. You know, the rivalry, the arguing, the pranks. Other things too. I thought it was nonsense at first but then I started thinking and …" He trailed off uncertainly.
"You were worried about how I felt." It was a statement not a question.
Draco nodded slowly. "I thought you didn't feel the same way. Then you were nice to me and I thought … maybe there was a chance. But it still doesn't solve other problems." He closed his eyes.
"Your father. And Voldemort."
"Yes, the Dark Lord," Draco muttered hoarsely.
Harry gave him a sharp look. "Don't say that! You don't serve him."
There was an unfathomable look in his eyes and his response was hesitant. "Not now. Not yet but … let's not talk about this, shall we?"
"All right." Harry closed his eyes, thinking about what Draco had said. Could he be the one responsible for the teachers' plight? But how? Mirthlessly, he realized that his work as a spy, an informant, was progressing very nicely. But he couldn't help the pang in his heart, his guilt at what he was doing. And the guilt should Draco find out in the future.
"Can I kiss you, Harry?" Draco's silver-grey eyes were watching him with tenderness.
Harry smiled tremulously. "If you want. I-I've never done it before."
Draco smiled at him. "Neither have I. Not someone other than my parents. And certainly never before on the lips." He lowered his lips to Harry's, just a gentle brush, as light as a feather. Harry responded to it, his lips parting, his tongue moving into Draco's mouth, touching Draco's tongue. The kiss seemed to go on forever and when they parted, both were a little flushed, panting for breath. "If you kiss like that, no wonder so many girls are so interested in you," Draco whispered to him huskily and Harry's face began burning. Draco laughed and they kissed again and Harry lost himself in the passion that Draco's kisses entailed.