Chapter Three

The Detention

Draco looked at his watch. 6:27. Geez, will time hurry the hell up already? He tried to do some more homework, but he couldn't concentrate. His mind kept turning itself to what seemed to be its new favorite subject. Potter.

Two and a half hours. Then I'll be able to see him. Come on brain. Let's get some of this work done and out of the way before we go, huh? Draco turned back to his Charms book. He reread the same paragraph for the eighth time before tossing the book aside.

Draco shook his head. This is ridiculous. If I don't get this done now, it won't get done. He picked up a quill and drew a clean sheet of parchment to him, hoping his hand would be inspired, but no such luck. In fact, the only thing that was being written on the page was one name.

"Harry Potter"

"Oh for the love of Merlin." Draco sighed. He dropped the quill, and shredded the parchment absently. He threw it in the wastebasket.

"Damn you, Potter," he said as he flopped on his bed, surrendering to his daydreams.

~*~*~*~

Harry glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 8:06. Well, it's almost time to go. Harry was starting to feel butterflies in his stomach.

This is silly. You're acting like a little school girl. Calm yourself. You're going to have to spend the whole damn night with that ruddy git, Malfoy. What is your problem? Harry shook himself. The problem was that no matter how many times he reminded himself that Malfoy was bad news, he was still excited to be seeing him.

Harry picked up his Divination book one more time. They were reviewing palmistry and going more in depth now. Apparently, in Harry's third year, they had only done the basics of palmistry. As Harry tossed the book onto his bed, it fell open to the page about love lines.

Harry groaned. "Oh this is not helping." He settled himself onto the bed, put the book in his lap and tried to read.

~*~*~*~

Draco looked at his watch again, for the umpteenth time. 8:29. Finally.

"Well, I'd better get going." he said to himself.

Draco got off his bed where he had been laying for the last two hours and walked over to his mirror. He smoothed back his hair vaguely as he looked at his reflection.

"You look wonderful, dear," said his mirror.

"Yeah. I know, thanks," he replied as he strode out of the room.

"I'll be back later," Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle, who were playing a game of Exploding Snap in the common room.

Draco quickened his pace as he neared the trophy room. As he approached, he saw Potter coming toward him from the other direction.

"Potter," said Draco, with what he hoped passed with disdain.

"Malfoy," replied Potter. Draco thought he saw a glimmer of something before the emerald eyes reflected his disdain.

The boys entered the trophy room together.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for them. As they walked in, she said "You two will be scrubbing each and every one of these trophies till they gleam."

Draco smirked. Well, that ought to be easy. Just a wave of the wand and-

Professor McGonagall, seeing Draco's look, continued. "This will be done manually. No magic. I will return in four hours' time to inspect your handiwork.

Draco groaned. So did Potter.

Professor McGonagall handed them each a jar of polish and several rags, before leaving.

"Well," said Potter, looking around. "We'd better get started."

"Suppose so."

They walked to the opposite sides of the room and started work.

~*~*~*~

"So, Potter, why did you refuse my friendship six years ago?" Malfoy asked, breaking the silence. This caught Harry completely off-guard. They had been working for two hours now and had reached the center of the room.

"Why? Because you insulted Ron." Harry said, glancing over at Malfoy.

"Oh." Malfoy went back to polishing.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"I was just wondering. Life would've been quite different if we were friends, wouldn't it?" said Malfoy, looking at Harry.

"Yeah." Harry replied.

"But instead," said Malfoy, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "You're best friends with that Muggle-lover, Weasel, and his Mudblood girlfr-" Malfoy never got to finish his sentence. Harry lunged at Malfoy, one fist landing square on Malfoy's jaw.

Malfoy struck back with a blow to Harry's stomach. Harry doubled over at the blow. He lifted his head and glared at Malfoy. Harry was tired of Malfoy, who he really liked for some stupid reason, badmouthing his friends. He rushed at Malfoy, who backed away and into the wall. Harry caught Malfoy's hands and held them over Malfoy's head and against the wall with one of his own hands as Harry's body slammed against Malfoy's. Being this close, Harry could smell Malfoy's cologne. But Harry was so mad that he didn't let Malfoy's scent distract him.

Harry pulled back his free hand and swung, connecting with Malfoy's stomach. As Harry sent another fist at Malfoy, he blurted out, "I may like you, but I won't let you talk about my best friends like that!"

Harry's hand hit Malfoy in the nose. Malfoy stared at Harry. "Wh-What? What did you say?"

"I said you can't talk about my friends like that." Harry repeated, hoping Malfoy wasn't referring to the first part of his hasty statement.

"No, before that. Did you just say you like me?"

Damn, Harry thought.

Malfoy looked at Harry with amazement. There was something else in Draco's eyes. Harry wasn't quite sure, but he thought he saw desire in the blue eyes boring into his own. Harry released Malfoy's hands and looked away.

"Yes." said Harry quietly. "Yes, I said I like you." Harry looked back at Malfoy, who had started walking toward Harry. Harry backed away. "What? Are you going to mock me now? Wait. Let me guess. 'The Great Harry Potter has a thing for his worst enemy.' Or, how about this: 'The Boy-Who-Lived has gone soft.' Right, Malfoy?" said Harry, furiously.

"No." Malfoy whispered. He caught Harry's hands now, stopping Harry in his tracks. Harry was surprised at how warm they felt, Draco's hands, grasping his own. Malfoy reached up and brushed a few ebony-colored strands of hair off Harry's forehead, revealing the famous lightning bolt. Malfoy's fingers trailed down the jagged scar on Harry's forehead, then moved to Harry's arched eyebrow, and down his nose. Harry's breath was getting caught somewhere between his mouth and his lungs. And then Malfoy touched Harry's lips. Harry felt the warmth of Malfoy on his lips as Malfoy traced their outline slowly, lightly, with one slender finger. Then Malfoy's hand moved along Harry's jaw line and rested on his cheek.

Harry looked into Malfoy's eyes. Unable to believe what was happening. Incapable of looking away. Then Malfoy leaned in. Harry's eyes fluttered closed. Lips found lips in a soft kiss. Then Malfoy pulled away.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he reached out, grabbing the other boy's hips. As he slid his arms around Malfoy's waist, their lips collided for a second time. This time the kiss was neither brief, nor soft. Rather, it was rough. Hungry. Hungry for the passion they had each been dreaming about. The Passion they had been too scared to pursue. Malfoy's lips parted, his tongue flicking over Harry's lips, begging entry, which Harry willingly supplied.

As their tongues met, there was an explosion within Harry's body. Every inch of him was begging for only one thing. Malfoy. The boys' hands were no longer stationary. Malfoy's slid down Harry's chest, around his waist to the small of his back. Harry's hands traveled up Malfoy's back and into the platinum hair.

"Malfoy..." came the muffled groan.

The two boys remained entangled in each other's arms. Their fingers were exploring the new body underneath them. Then Harry drew back sharply.

Malfoy looked back at him, very flushed and very stunned at the quick release. "What-?"

Harry backed away, holding up a hand to quiet Malfoy. Footsteps were swiftly approaching, echoing off the stone walls. "McGonagall."

"Shit," whispered Malfoy.

The boys scurried back to the rags and polish that had been forgotten in the heat of passion. They busied themselves with the trophies they had been working on prior to the fight that instigated it all.

Professor McGonagall swept into the room. "Alright, gentlemen. Pack up. I want to get to bed some time tonight. Hand me the supplies and let's go."

The two prefects closed their jars of polish, and handed them and the rags to McGonagall.

"I trust that you two can make it to your dormitories without creating a ruckus," said Professor McGonagall sternly. "I will see you both tomorrow." With that she swept off again, down the hall and out of sight.

"Well...Erm... What now?" asked Harry tentatively.

Malfoy stared at his once-enemy for a long time before answering.

"We go about our lives like we have been for the last six years," Malfoy started. "And we don't tell anyone about tonight." Malfoy said, a pleading look now in his eyes.

"Why? Are you ashamed that tonight happened?" said Harry. He was hurt and getting angry again. "You rotten-"

"No. Don't finish that," said Malfoy, putting a finger on Harry's lips. "No. I'm not ashamed at all. I just want this to be ours. Only ours." Malfoy pulled Harry to him and kissed him again.

Harry pulled away after a while. "Malfoy, this is going to be hard. Seeing you. Every day. Knowing what happened tonight. Knowing how much I want more. I- I don't know how long I'll be able to keep up that front." Harry sighed. He hated that he would have to lie to Ron and Hermione.

"Here. Let me give you something that should tide you over for a while." Malfoy backed Harry against the wall. Then he kissed Harry again, making Harry feel that explosive feeling. I guess I could be able to deal without this for a little while, if I have to... Then Malfoy's tongue touched his again, and Harry lost his thought processes completely.

~*~TBC~*~