A.N: hiya, everyone!! This is my second HP fic. I quite like it actually.
firstly, sorry for the oh-so-cliched use of the prefects bedroom to stick
them together, but I ran out of ideas ^_^; and I think I went OOC in this
fic. sorrieeeee... ^^
And thanks to the ppl who reviewed my first fic, it meant sosososo much to me. Bomber Girlthe first person! ::glomps:: I love you so much!, amber- goddesswas so glad to know tht Harry wasn't too OOC^^, Rei, dragons loveryour review was the sweetest^^, diamond angelI love your fics, KT, bad-ass-Cinderella, Little Green Dragonthank you, your review really made me want to write more, milady69, rambaldi314, Katie of Gryffindor, Lvly Senbei, sillie, Draco luvur and lady rhinnon. (wow. I never realized: that's a lot of ppl .)
Disclaimer: HP is not mine. (and if you wanted a funny disclaimer, imagine a witty remark, put it in this space "__________" and have a good laugh.)
Here we go.
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Melt
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Once, Harry had kissed Draco.
It wasn't really a thing a 17 year old boy would do: creep over to the bed of a friend (rival?) of the same sex, in the dead of the night, and plant a kiss on his forehead.
For a long time afterwards, Harry had asked himself why he had done it. Since there was only one answer, it was easy to make excuses for himself, skirting around the real reason. He made up so many excuses for himself, even making a hobby out of it, something to do in his daydreaming time, adamantly avoiding the truth of the matter.
And it had been agony, during the consecutive nights, to be plagued by thoughts cajoling him to repeat the madness.
Madness. That's what it was.
It was madness that made him cross the cold dark floor of the room that night, madness that made him silently pull open the curtains of the other boy's bed. Madness made him watch in wonder, captivated by the display of distress and faint agony that he had never seen on the blonde's face before. Madness made him watch in silence for an eternity, whispering soothing words, making the blonde's string of tortured, unintelligible words die down. It was a different kind of magic, words; to comfort, to chase away the nightmares.
And madness boiled his blood, making his touch hot against cold skin, making him kiss what was not his.
There was a flicker of surprise over the blonde's features, and afraid that the blonde would open his eyes, Harry darted back to his bed. Pulling the covers over his head, he didn't breathe. He could feel his hands trembling, and he bit at his knuckles to stop them.
The blonde didn't stir that night, and Harry didn't sleep.
Neither of the boys left the two beds in the prefect's bedroom until morning, when Draco smiled a sleepy 'good morning' and enquired why Harry looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.
Ha.
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The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
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The first time Harry found out he had to share a bedroom with Draco Malfoy, obnoxious toad extraordinaire, he kicked up a fuss. He even threatened to resign the post of prefect. The whole affair only got as far as McGonagall.
"Harry, I really don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is, professor, that I have to share a room with Malfoy! Couldn't you change the arrangements? Please, I'd do anything!"
"I'm afraid that can't be done, Potter. You will just have put aside what differences you have with Malfoy and learn to get along. I think this will be the best for both of you."
"Professor, I just can't! You can't make me!" Harry pleaded desperately.
"I think I can, Potter. You WILL share a bedroom with Malfoy and you will NOT say another word about it. Is that clear?"
"But, prof-"
Professor McGonagall gave him a look that challenged him to defy her. Not even the bravest Gryffindor could stand that look. Harry floundered under her gaze until, finally, he sighed in defeat.
"Good. And if I hear you making an issue about this again, you will regret it." She looked at Harry, and put a kind hand on his shoulder. "It isn't that bad, Harry. And I don't know why you're so sensitive about Malfoy in particular. Just put in some effort, I'm sure you'll get used to him."
That first night was very memorable.
"Can you get our bloody owl to shut the bloody hell up!" Draco growled from his bed, rubbing his temples. His hair was in disarray as he looked in distress at the mess around him.
"It's your owl that's irritating Hedwig! Why don't you just take his cage somewhere else!"
"I would, but where?" Draco spread his arms towards the stacks of textbooks, robes, and other various random objects lying all over the floor. Harry frowned in response. He turned around, starting to pick up his things off the floor. Draco lay on his bed, Summoning his things to him. Having to dodge the other boy's things as they flew towards him while he lay languidly in his bed irritated Harry rapidly. Finally, unable to take the lazy drawl in Draco's voice, he turned angrily.
"Malfoy, would you just-"
Ouch. Book to the head. Thick, fat heavy book to the head.
Harry tried not to wince in front of his mortal enemy as pain took over. "Why couldn't you just come the bloody hell over and pick up your bloody things by yourself?!" he muttered faintly as he lost his balance.
He was surprised to find a pair of arms grasp him firmly before he hit the floor.
"Geez, how was I to know you'd stand up smack into my Arithmancy textbook?" Even through the blinding brightness he saw swirling in front of his eyes, he noticed that Draco's retort was robbed of its usual fine edge. Draco hauled him over to his bed. "Only an idiot like you would do something like that. Honestly, Potter, can't you take care of yourself?"
Harry tried to smirk, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. "Didn't know you cared, Malfoy, I'm touched."
"I don't." Draco muttered. He stood up and surveyed the room. "I'll clear the rest of the things, so just make like a mummy and don't move."
Harry, of course, tried to stand up straightaway. "I don't need you to pick up after me, I can take care of myself . . . " Stars blinded his vision again, and the world spun.
Those arms caught him again, and pinned him to his bed. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself staring into a pair of intense grey eyes. "Listen, Potter," Draco growled. "I don't want to have to live on the same continent as you, let alone share a room. But the post of prefect means a goddamn lot to my father, and me, and I'm not going to lose it because McGonagall says she wants no nonsense from the both of us. So, when I say lie down, just do it, is that clear?"
Harry could feel Draco's heat, drenching him. He couldn't break his gaze from the cool grey orbs, feeling such a rush of power from the blonde. He sort of nodded, and Draco released him.
"Now rest, and don't move." Draco straightened his robes and started to clear the room.
About half an hour later, Harry on his bed, facing the other boy who was sitting cross-legged on his bed.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Thank McGonagall for making me promise not to dismember you."
". . . . . . . . . ."
"What? Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like THAT."
Harry smirked at Draco's discomfort. With all the lights out, Harry couldn't help but notice the soft glow to Draco's hair and pale skin. In his old, worn, nightclothes and with no bodyguards flanking him, Draco looked positively harmless. Draco felt increasingly uncomfortable with Harry's gaze upon him.
"Did that book hit you too hard, Potter, or do you usually stare like an idiot for hours on end?" Draco growled at Harry's silent smirk. "Fine. I'm going to sleep. Do me a favor and do the same." Saying this, he turned and drew his curtains.
Harry sighed and drew his quilt over himself. Everything was silent, silent, then-
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Huh?" Harry was surprised by the sudden question in the dark.
"Are you sure you feel ok, your head I mean, cause I don't want you to go running to McGonagall tomorrow like a baby." Draco said hurriedly.
Harry found himself smiling in the darkness. Maybe. . . .
"I'm fine, Malfoy. Thanks."
"Just because I promised not to hurt you doesn't mean I don't hate you." Nervous pause. " Now go to sleep and stop bothering me."
Just maybe. . .
Draco sniffed, and added, as if by afterthought, "Goodnight then."
Maybe living with Draco Malfoy wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
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The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
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"Dray, are we friends?" Harry looked over to Draco, who was sitting against the headboard of his bed with a large book propped against his knees. Draco peered over the top of his book to regard Harry.
"No, whatever gave you that idea? We're enemies, rivals, and arch nemeses. We hate each other's guts with a passion that's almost holy. How could you have forgotten that?" Draco nudged Harry with his foot. Harry, who was lying face down on the bed, refused to move. "Go take a bath, you know I can't stand it when you lie on my bed after you've been in Divination." He wrinkled his nose. "You smell of Trelawney."
Harry ignored him. "So why don't we just say we're friends?"
Draco didn't take his eyes off his book as he replied. "Because the whole school expects us to be enemies. I do have a reputation to keep up, you know. It doesn't matter what we are, they'll always think of us as enemies, so why don't we just humor them? Besides, father wouldn't approve."
Harry felt irritation strike at him, as he always did when Draco mentioned Lucius Malfoy. "Always daddy's little boy, aren't we? Honestly, Draco, I don't know why you don't go get a life of your own." Harry said bitingly.
Draco's head snapped up and his eyes flashed fire. Harry instantly regretted the things he had said. "Potter, if you have nothing better to do than whine today, I suggest you shut the fuck up." He clapped his book shut and strode over the desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the chair our roughly and sat down.
Harry felt that familiar tight feeling in his chest. He buried his head in the bed, trying to ignore what he had just said. He could hear his own heart, loud drumming, and his face felt hot. The tension in the room grew with the silence. Loud silence. Drumming silence. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid...' he repeated to himself as he tried to look anywhere but at Draco's tense form on the other side of the room. Words were jumbled up in his head, tripping over each other, as he frantically tried to place them in order.
He tried to speak, but found no words. The tightness in his chest grew, that feeling he had come to associate with Draco: when he felt anger towards him, or irritation, or happiness, or. . . guilt.
He found no words, but tears. Hot and silent, but he didn't speak.
Finally, the feeling in his chest constricted him, and a sob escaped. "Dray," he croaked pitifully.
Draco turned, alarmed. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of his roommate. He started towards Harry apprehensively.
"Harry? God, are you crying?" Harry refused to look at Draco and instead buried his face in a big, fluffy pillow. He felt Draco climb onto the bed, next to him.
"Okay, I'm sorry for snapping at you just now. I shouldn't have, I knew you were in sort of a weird mood. But I don't want you to cry, d'you hear me? I'm lousy at consoling people." Draco sighed resignedly, a sound Harry was so used to hearing nowadays. "Do you want to talk?"
Harry shook his head, and clutched the pillow tightly, trying to stop the tears. Draco sighed again, and spoke with a tired voice. " I'll go get Weasly then."
Harry grabbed Draco's arm as he turned to leave. "No." The arm felt alien under his warmth; for some reason, Draco's flesh always seemed cold beneath his.
"Why?"
"It's. . . well. . . " Harry raised his eyes to look at his friend. The soft grey eyes he was so used to now looked at him, as if they understood, making him feel it was okay, okay to speak. He found the words pouring out.
"Ever since I've moved into here, I've drifted away from Ron. He's supposed to be my best mate, but actually he's my only mate. Hermione's my best friend too, but she's just not Ron. And now Ron, he's always spending time with 'Mione, so even when I'm with them I'm not with them, you know? And sometimes when I'm with everyone, it's like I'm with no one, and I feel so- " Harry stopped abruptly, because he didn't want to say that word.
"Alone?"
Harry looked away.
He wept the last of his tears silently, as Draco watched by his side, equally silent.
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The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
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A.N: how was it?? I was going to make the last part *much* more interesting. I mean, Draco and Harry in the same bed. ::drools:: who could resist? Things were supposed to end up .. ::whaps self:: ::remembers this is a non NC 17 site::
The next part should be up soon.
Eh. please ignore me. But do leave a review on the way out! Thankies!! ^^
And thanks to the ppl who reviewed my first fic, it meant sosososo much to me. Bomber Girlthe first person! ::glomps:: I love you so much!, amber- goddesswas so glad to know tht Harry wasn't too OOC^^, Rei, dragons loveryour review was the sweetest^^, diamond angelI love your fics, KT, bad-ass-Cinderella, Little Green Dragonthank you, your review really made me want to write more, milady69, rambaldi314, Katie of Gryffindor, Lvly Senbei, sillie, Draco luvur and lady rhinnon. (wow. I never realized: that's a lot of ppl .)
Disclaimer: HP is not mine. (and if you wanted a funny disclaimer, imagine a witty remark, put it in this space "__________" and have a good laugh.)
Here we go.
_____________________________________________________________________ _____________________________________________________________________
Melt
______________________________________________________________________
Once, Harry had kissed Draco.
It wasn't really a thing a 17 year old boy would do: creep over to the bed of a friend (rival?) of the same sex, in the dead of the night, and plant a kiss on his forehead.
For a long time afterwards, Harry had asked himself why he had done it. Since there was only one answer, it was easy to make excuses for himself, skirting around the real reason. He made up so many excuses for himself, even making a hobby out of it, something to do in his daydreaming time, adamantly avoiding the truth of the matter.
And it had been agony, during the consecutive nights, to be plagued by thoughts cajoling him to repeat the madness.
Madness. That's what it was.
It was madness that made him cross the cold dark floor of the room that night, madness that made him silently pull open the curtains of the other boy's bed. Madness made him watch in wonder, captivated by the display of distress and faint agony that he had never seen on the blonde's face before. Madness made him watch in silence for an eternity, whispering soothing words, making the blonde's string of tortured, unintelligible words die down. It was a different kind of magic, words; to comfort, to chase away the nightmares.
And madness boiled his blood, making his touch hot against cold skin, making him kiss what was not his.
There was a flicker of surprise over the blonde's features, and afraid that the blonde would open his eyes, Harry darted back to his bed. Pulling the covers over his head, he didn't breathe. He could feel his hands trembling, and he bit at his knuckles to stop them.
The blonde didn't stir that night, and Harry didn't sleep.
Neither of the boys left the two beds in the prefect's bedroom until morning, when Draco smiled a sleepy 'good morning' and enquired why Harry looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.
Ha.
______________________________________________________________________
The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
______________________________________________________________________
The first time Harry found out he had to share a bedroom with Draco Malfoy, obnoxious toad extraordinaire, he kicked up a fuss. He even threatened to resign the post of prefect. The whole affair only got as far as McGonagall.
"Harry, I really don't see what the problem is."
"The problem is, professor, that I have to share a room with Malfoy! Couldn't you change the arrangements? Please, I'd do anything!"
"I'm afraid that can't be done, Potter. You will just have put aside what differences you have with Malfoy and learn to get along. I think this will be the best for both of you."
"Professor, I just can't! You can't make me!" Harry pleaded desperately.
"I think I can, Potter. You WILL share a bedroom with Malfoy and you will NOT say another word about it. Is that clear?"
"But, prof-"
Professor McGonagall gave him a look that challenged him to defy her. Not even the bravest Gryffindor could stand that look. Harry floundered under her gaze until, finally, he sighed in defeat.
"Good. And if I hear you making an issue about this again, you will regret it." She looked at Harry, and put a kind hand on his shoulder. "It isn't that bad, Harry. And I don't know why you're so sensitive about Malfoy in particular. Just put in some effort, I'm sure you'll get used to him."
That first night was very memorable.
"Can you get our bloody owl to shut the bloody hell up!" Draco growled from his bed, rubbing his temples. His hair was in disarray as he looked in distress at the mess around him.
"It's your owl that's irritating Hedwig! Why don't you just take his cage somewhere else!"
"I would, but where?" Draco spread his arms towards the stacks of textbooks, robes, and other various random objects lying all over the floor. Harry frowned in response. He turned around, starting to pick up his things off the floor. Draco lay on his bed, Summoning his things to him. Having to dodge the other boy's things as they flew towards him while he lay languidly in his bed irritated Harry rapidly. Finally, unable to take the lazy drawl in Draco's voice, he turned angrily.
"Malfoy, would you just-"
Ouch. Book to the head. Thick, fat heavy book to the head.
Harry tried not to wince in front of his mortal enemy as pain took over. "Why couldn't you just come the bloody hell over and pick up your bloody things by yourself?!" he muttered faintly as he lost his balance.
He was surprised to find a pair of arms grasp him firmly before he hit the floor.
"Geez, how was I to know you'd stand up smack into my Arithmancy textbook?" Even through the blinding brightness he saw swirling in front of his eyes, he noticed that Draco's retort was robbed of its usual fine edge. Draco hauled him over to his bed. "Only an idiot like you would do something like that. Honestly, Potter, can't you take care of yourself?"
Harry tried to smirk, but he was sure it looked more like a grimace. "Didn't know you cared, Malfoy, I'm touched."
"I don't." Draco muttered. He stood up and surveyed the room. "I'll clear the rest of the things, so just make like a mummy and don't move."
Harry, of course, tried to stand up straightaway. "I don't need you to pick up after me, I can take care of myself . . . " Stars blinded his vision again, and the world spun.
Those arms caught him again, and pinned him to his bed. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself staring into a pair of intense grey eyes. "Listen, Potter," Draco growled. "I don't want to have to live on the same continent as you, let alone share a room. But the post of prefect means a goddamn lot to my father, and me, and I'm not going to lose it because McGonagall says she wants no nonsense from the both of us. So, when I say lie down, just do it, is that clear?"
Harry could feel Draco's heat, drenching him. He couldn't break his gaze from the cool grey orbs, feeling such a rush of power from the blonde. He sort of nodded, and Draco released him.
"Now rest, and don't move." Draco straightened his robes and started to clear the room.
About half an hour later, Harry on his bed, facing the other boy who was sitting cross-legged on his bed.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me. Thank McGonagall for making me promise not to dismember you."
". . . . . . . . . ."
"What? Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like THAT."
Harry smirked at Draco's discomfort. With all the lights out, Harry couldn't help but notice the soft glow to Draco's hair and pale skin. In his old, worn, nightclothes and with no bodyguards flanking him, Draco looked positively harmless. Draco felt increasingly uncomfortable with Harry's gaze upon him.
"Did that book hit you too hard, Potter, or do you usually stare like an idiot for hours on end?" Draco growled at Harry's silent smirk. "Fine. I'm going to sleep. Do me a favor and do the same." Saying this, he turned and drew his curtains.
Harry sighed and drew his quilt over himself. Everything was silent, silent, then-
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Huh?" Harry was surprised by the sudden question in the dark.
"Are you sure you feel ok, your head I mean, cause I don't want you to go running to McGonagall tomorrow like a baby." Draco said hurriedly.
Harry found himself smiling in the darkness. Maybe. . . .
"I'm fine, Malfoy. Thanks."
"Just because I promised not to hurt you doesn't mean I don't hate you." Nervous pause. " Now go to sleep and stop bothering me."
Just maybe. . .
Draco sniffed, and added, as if by afterthought, "Goodnight then."
Maybe living with Draco Malfoy wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.
___________________________________________________________________
The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
____________________________________________________________________
"Dray, are we friends?" Harry looked over to Draco, who was sitting against the headboard of his bed with a large book propped against his knees. Draco peered over the top of his book to regard Harry.
"No, whatever gave you that idea? We're enemies, rivals, and arch nemeses. We hate each other's guts with a passion that's almost holy. How could you have forgotten that?" Draco nudged Harry with his foot. Harry, who was lying face down on the bed, refused to move. "Go take a bath, you know I can't stand it when you lie on my bed after you've been in Divination." He wrinkled his nose. "You smell of Trelawney."
Harry ignored him. "So why don't we just say we're friends?"
Draco didn't take his eyes off his book as he replied. "Because the whole school expects us to be enemies. I do have a reputation to keep up, you know. It doesn't matter what we are, they'll always think of us as enemies, so why don't we just humor them? Besides, father wouldn't approve."
Harry felt irritation strike at him, as he always did when Draco mentioned Lucius Malfoy. "Always daddy's little boy, aren't we? Honestly, Draco, I don't know why you don't go get a life of your own." Harry said bitingly.
Draco's head snapped up and his eyes flashed fire. Harry instantly regretted the things he had said. "Potter, if you have nothing better to do than whine today, I suggest you shut the fuck up." He clapped his book shut and strode over the desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the chair our roughly and sat down.
Harry felt that familiar tight feeling in his chest. He buried his head in the bed, trying to ignore what he had just said. He could hear his own heart, loud drumming, and his face felt hot. The tension in the room grew with the silence. Loud silence. Drumming silence. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid...' he repeated to himself as he tried to look anywhere but at Draco's tense form on the other side of the room. Words were jumbled up in his head, tripping over each other, as he frantically tried to place them in order.
He tried to speak, but found no words. The tightness in his chest grew, that feeling he had come to associate with Draco: when he felt anger towards him, or irritation, or happiness, or. . . guilt.
He found no words, but tears. Hot and silent, but he didn't speak.
Finally, the feeling in his chest constricted him, and a sob escaped. "Dray," he croaked pitifully.
Draco turned, alarmed. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of his roommate. He started towards Harry apprehensively.
"Harry? God, are you crying?" Harry refused to look at Draco and instead buried his face in a big, fluffy pillow. He felt Draco climb onto the bed, next to him.
"Okay, I'm sorry for snapping at you just now. I shouldn't have, I knew you were in sort of a weird mood. But I don't want you to cry, d'you hear me? I'm lousy at consoling people." Draco sighed resignedly, a sound Harry was so used to hearing nowadays. "Do you want to talk?"
Harry shook his head, and clutched the pillow tightly, trying to stop the tears. Draco sighed again, and spoke with a tired voice. " I'll go get Weasly then."
Harry grabbed Draco's arm as he turned to leave. "No." The arm felt alien under his warmth; for some reason, Draco's flesh always seemed cold beneath his.
"Why?"
"It's. . . well. . . " Harry raised his eyes to look at his friend. The soft grey eyes he was so used to now looked at him, as if they understood, making him feel it was okay, okay to speak. He found the words pouring out.
"Ever since I've moved into here, I've drifted away from Ron. He's supposed to be my best mate, but actually he's my only mate. Hermione's my best friend too, but she's just not Ron. And now Ron, he's always spending time with 'Mione, so even when I'm with them I'm not with them, you know? And sometimes when I'm with everyone, it's like I'm with no one, and I feel so- " Harry stopped abruptly, because he didn't want to say that word.
"Alone?"
Harry looked away.
He wept the last of his tears silently, as Draco watched by his side, equally silent.
____________________________________________________________________
The phone rang shrilly, and Harry turned in his sleep.
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A.N: how was it?? I was going to make the last part *much* more interesting. I mean, Draco and Harry in the same bed. ::drools:: who could resist? Things were supposed to end up .. ::whaps self:: ::remembers this is a non NC 17 site::
The next part should be up soon.
Eh. please ignore me. But do leave a review on the way out! Thankies!! ^^
