Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:

Author's Notes: Oh, wow. This is getting close to the cut off line where I'm still writing this out. I know you'll definitely like this one, for H/D reasons if nothing else.

Warnings for this chapter: This is an R chapter. There is smut. And some angst. Just a smidgeon. I would love feedback on the smut scene. Really. Feed my tiny ego, people. Oh, and there's some naughty language in here too.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Granger left him alone after that and occasionally even took his side against the Weasel, who was still acting like Draco was the devil himself. Harry had noticed and was much relieved that at least one of his old friends wasn't nagging at him about his newest one. Draco loved spending time with Harry. Every day he learned a little bit more about him, saw a new facet to his personality, and he learned to like the other boy just that much more for it. He had found, to his chagrin, that Potter was every inch the hero his reputation cast him as. But Draco never forgot the fact he was also just another boy. One with messy hair who loved to fly and had a difficult time remembering how to cut his shrivel fig the proper way.

Things weren't perfect between them of course. They had disputes and there were moments of awkwardness when one of them remembered their past animosity, but when it came down to it, it was everything Draco could have wished for. Had wished for in fact. Of course, that didn't stop him from wanting more.

Harry, Draco had discovered to his dismay, was addictive.

Almost everything about him was addictive in fact. The little glances Harry stole when he thought Draco wasn't looking, the way he pushed his glasses up in a thoughtless, habitual gesture that had an inherent gracefulness to it Draco didn't expect, how his hair had a life of its own, the bronze of his skin, the way sometimes shadows flickered in the depths of his eyes, how his lips were a bit on the thin side, but it just made his mouth that much firmer and kissable when he was being stubborn, the sheer force of will he could exude when he put his mind to it, the breadth and width of his shoulders, the taut stomach Draco desperately wanted a glimpse of, how long and sooty his eyelashes were, the way he laughed so rarely, but so wholeheartedly, and how even when he was in a bad mood he made sure Draco felt included.

It all made Draco want to grab on to Harry with both hands and never let go, cuddling him close to keep him out of danger. He understood Granger's tendency to mother him now, though he had always made fun of it when he was younger. Harry was the strongest person Draco knew, but he had vulnerabilities just like other people too. Draco's talent for understanding Harry and spotting his weaknesses so he could use them against him actually came in handy. Draco never exploited the weaknesses he found like he would have previously, instead he guarded them with the same ferocity he guarded his own.

Granger was keeping an eye on him, but Draco expected it really. She kept close tabs on them in the following days in her own sharp eyed, motherly way. And that was why she wasn't very surprised when Harry managed to coax him inside the Gryffindor common room Tuesday afternoon after class. Longbottom was staring at him warily from where he sat near the common room fire and Finnigan seemed fascinated with his sudden presence in their midst.

Frankly all the red and gold was sickening, but Draco managed to bite back the stinging comment hovering on the tip of his tongue. For all of two seconds. "Well, aside from the fact the color scheme turns my stomach and the furniture is in sad repair, I suppose it's not too bad." He watched Granger's ugly cat make itself comfortable on the sofa, spreading ginger hairs in its wake. "For a barn." He amended eyeing the smug half-Kneazle.

Harry rolled his eyes and sprawled out on the couch next to the Ginger Beast. "Better than living in a dungeon. Frankly, I wouldn't be too comfortable living in a place where the main decoration is chains."

"You'd be surprised." Draco said slyly, seating himself on the couch with the cat between him and the Gryffindor. "I mean, velvet lining can make even iron shackles comfortable." Longbottom looked like Snape had swooped in to declare his love for all things cute and furry as soon as the banter had started. Draco honestly thought his eyes couldn't get any bigger.

Harry was staring at him incredulously. "Okay, one. That's disturbing. And two, like you would know."

"What? You mean you don't think all Slytherins are sadomasochistic nymphomaniacs? I'm shocked. We're obviously not working hard enough to keep our reputation intact." Draco lounged on the couch, flicking Crookshanks paw at random intervals and ticking the animal off slowly but surely.

It finally stalked off with its tail lashing, leaving the couch to Harry and Draco. The Slytherin had to force down an evil cackle at getting his way. Perhaps he shouldn't have had quite so many of the sweets Pansy had shared with him from her care package earlier. "Right." Harry said indulgently, stretching out on the couch a bit and nudging Draco with his foot. "We both know you're not half as nasty as you pretend to be." Draco merely raised one eyebrow and leveled a look at him that spoke volumes about the foolishness of challenging a Malfoy's nastiness. "Er. Nevermind."

"And Pansy said Gryffindors can't be trained." He said complacently, looking around the room with unbridled curiosity and ignoring Harry's protests to his comment.

Finnigan had moved into a nearby armchair during their conversation and was still watching their interactions avidly. "What?" Draco snapped. "I don't take well to being stared at, so spit it out and go away."

The Irish Idiot was obviously taken aback at his usual terse tone after the way he'd been talking so agreeably with Harry and hesitated for a moment before jumping into the conversation. "So, I hear you and Harry are friends now."

"What of it?" Draco asked, watching the sandy haired Gryffindor.

"Nothing, nothing at all." Finnigan said hastily. "Just wondering, is all. So er."

"Seamus." Harry groaned, covering his head with a pillow. "If you're going to ask him what I think you're going to ask him the answer is NO, now leave it be."

"Oh, well now I'm curious. Ask me what?" Draco interjected, looking inquiringly at the Irish boy.

Finnigan grinned recklessly. "Oh, I was just wondering if you mphh-" He ended up with a mouthful of pillow when Harry swung at him in order to shut his gob.

"Don't Seamus. It's bad enough you've been pestering me about it. Don't bother Draco with your nonsense or I'll sick Hermione on you."

"Fine, fine. Be that way. But you know its true." Oddly enough, Harry's ears turned pink and he gave his fellow Gryffindor an extra whack with the pillow just for the hell of it.

Feeling a bit left out, (and okay, jealous at what was a bit too close to flirtation for his peace of mind) Draco smoothly interrupted their little inside conversation. "So, you're dating Thomas right? The commentator during Quidditch?"

"Yeah. I mean, things were a little rough for a while there before Parvati accepted it. But she did, eventually. Dean's the best boyfriend ever."

Draco smirked. "Yes. I heard about that. And, oddly enough, that Weasley's afraid to shower with you." Finnigan burst into laughter.

"Yeah. Ron can be a wanker. He's behaving better now that Hermione's keeping him in line, though. I thought he was gonna have a seizure when he and Harry fought it out over him having you as a friend."

The Slytherin turned to Harry who looked like he desperately didn't want to talk about it. Draco studied him for a moment before turning back to Finnigan. "Really. That's news to me." Harry looked wretched and, out of the kindness of his nonexistent Slytherin heart, Draco changed the subject with a mental note to talk about it later or to at least ask Granger what had happened. "So, what do you Gryffindors do around here for fun?"

Looking relieved, Harry spoke up. "Well, you know the usual. Wizard's chess, exploding snap… that sort of thing." Draco said nothing, letting the pathetic-ness of that sentence speak for itself. "Okay, so it's not very exciting. But its something to do. Seamus, what do you do in your free time?"

"Shag Dean of course!"

"Erk." Harry said, obviously just realizing he'd asked for that.

"Top or bottom?" Draco queried, eyeing Finnigan critically.

Harry looked clueless while Finnigan started laughing his arse off. "Bit of both, really. You should see Dean's dick. It's huge!"

"I'll pass." The Slytherin said quickly.

Harry obviously wanted the ground to swallow him up. "Oh god. Do you mind Seamus?"

"No." The Irish boy said promptly before turning back to his newest buddy. "Are you gay? I've heard rumors here and there. I'm just curious."

"Seamus!"

"Don't worry about it, it's fine Harry. And the answer to your question is yes, Finnigan. Not that it's any of your business. It's not as if it's a secret though. All the Slytherins know."

"Oh, really? So, let me guess. Top, right? You seem the sort."

"What are you two talking about?" Harry ground out in exasperation.

Seamus shook his head. "Tsk, tsk. Poor Harry. He's terribly innocent. Well, Malfoy?"

"Not really sure at this point. If I was with someone I trusted though? Most likely bottom. Though not all the time of course."

"Really?" Seamus looked entirely too interested in Draco's opinion, but from what he could tell sticking his nose in other people's business was a common event for the Gryffindor. And Draco so rarely got a chance to talk with someone who had similar sexual preferences.

Harry was getting more frustrated by the moment, which was part of the fun of course. He looked so cute when he had no idea what was going on. "I don't get it. Bottom what?"

Finnigan grinned. "Well, Harry. When a there's two or more sides to an object there's usually a top side, which is up, and - ouch! Careful with that cushion."

"Then don't be a prat."

Draco finally took mercy on his poor Gryffindor. "Finnigan's referring to anal sex. I'm pretty sure that's all you want to know about that."

"Oh." Harry said weakly. Draco snickered at him. "That still doesn't explain much."

"Harry, Harry. Why don't you ask Draco to show you?" The sandy haired boy wiggled his eyebrows.

"Shut it, Finnigan." Draco said curtly, sending a scorching glare towards the other boy.

"Shutting it, Malfoy."

The portrait swung open and all three boys turned to see who the interloper was. Draco forced down the groan that threatened to escape at seeing the bright red head of hair. "Hello, guys."

"Hey, Ginny." Harry offered with a grin.

Seamus waved and, upon seeing him, the Weaselette smiled. "Oh, I saw Dean in the library Seamus. He offered to help you with your banshee essay if you need it. He's still down there, just so you know."

"Yeah, I better get started or Professor Lupin'll fail me! Later Harry. See you around Malfoy." The Irish boy ran up the stairs and then back down, practically running through the portrait hole and down the hall.

"Please tell me he's been snorting pixie dust and that its not just his personality." Draco said into the silence left in Finnigan's exuberant wake. The Weasley wench laughed and Harry chuckled.

"Yeah, well. He's just a bit too excitable for his own good, that's all. Dean's so calm - they make a pretty good couple."

"Yeah, they do. But, poor Parvati." The wench said, before sighing. "So, Draco. What are you doing in Gryffindor tower?" She sent the Slytherin a shy smile and Draco wondered if he could just hex her and get it over with. A quick glance to Harry nipped that idea in the bud.

"Just visiting. Seeing how the other side lives." His tone of voice conveyed the fact he was not impressed. "And don't call me Draco." He tacked on as an afterthought.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Draco." Harry said warningly and the Slytherin wondered if his friend noticed the fleeting look of hurt that flickered across the red head's face at hearing him address Draco so casually when she couldn't. Not that Draco really cared. He detested the whiny faced little carrot top. First she simpered after Harry and now she'd set her sights on him, and even went so far as to call him by name, as if she had any right to address him so personally.

"Don't worry, I'll be a good little boy." He let his most wicked smirk twist his lips and Harry, obviously recognizing it from years of having it aimed at him, looked decidedly nervous. It was obviously contradicting Draco's words.

"You know what? I have some potions homework I need help with. We can do it in my room, come on. Oh, you don't mind do you Ginny? I just don't want Snape taking off more points from Gryffindor." Draco, who admittedly spent more time than was healthy studying Harry's facial expressions and habits, thought it was blatantly obvious that he was lying, but the Weaselette fell for it completely, making a sympathetic face and all.

"No, no. Go ahead."

Draco was too busy biting his lip to keep himself from commenting on Harry's offhand offer, but it was so packed with innuendo he really didn't see a point. He followed Harry up the stairs, taking in the unfamiliar scenery. The Gryffindor led him inside his prefect quarters, giving Draco the tour, though of course he'd already seen it once before. "This is my sitting room. And uh. My desk is over there." Harry pointed and then turned to gesture towards an open door that led to his room. Draco followed the Gryffindor. Near the bed there was a familiar Firebolt propped up against the wall. "And, that's where I sleep. I'm warning you now, if I catch you trying to short sheet my bed or leaving any 'presents' for me I'll sabotage our cauldron in Potions."

"I worked a year with Longbottom. If I can't fix anything you do by now, I deserve to have it blow up in my face." Harry gave him a stern look Draco hadn't seen since… well, since he'd gobbled down all of Pansy's sweets this morning. "Oh fine, if you must be that way. I'll behave."

"I'm not asking for miracles." Harry said dryly, then abruptly became serious. "Sorry about Ginny. I know she has a crush on you, but I'd really appreciate if you could not. Well, stomp all over her heart."

"Harry! How could you think such things of me? I'd never soil my lovely dragon hide boots in such a manner."

Harry cast him a rueful glance before shaking his head in despair and throwing himself on his bed. He bounced once and the sprawled out, watching Draco nose idly through his things. After a moment, Draco grew bored and joined Harry on the bed, pushing him over and settling down in the warm spot. Harry merely snorted and let himself be moved, oddly complacent for once.

There was a long, comfortable silence between them and then Harry spoke up. "Draco?" He asked, tentatively.

Draco wiggled a bit, kicking off his boots and then shoving his cold feet into the crook of Harry's left knee for warmth. Harry gave off body heat like a furnace. "What?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

Draco moved his head so he could look at Harry and raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor. "I'm going to take the time to point out the fact you just did. But you may ask another one." He offered, quite solicitously.

Harry adjusted his glasses nervously. "How'd you know? I mean, that you were gay?"

The Slytherin's interest was instantly captured and he propped himself up on his elbows, considering his answer (and just where that question had come from) carefully. "Well…" He said slowly, not quite sure how to reply. "I've just always liked boys more than girls. I just don't find women all that sexually attractive. Why do you ask?"

"Er. Well. I've been thinking and. I don't know. Considering the way I've thought about Oliver sometimes and a few other boys. I think I might be bi. I think I've known for a while now, but with the way Uncle Vernon always talked about 'those disgusting, unnatural poofs' I really couldn't admit it. Not even to myself."

"Well, what do you expect from a Muggle. Then of course, that's pretty much my father's point of view too, but most wizards and witches don't give a rat's arse about which Quidditch team you fly for. I certainly don't." Which was a lie, because Draco did care for his own reasons. He just didn't care the way Harry meant.

"Oh." He sounded distinctly relieved. "But… how can you be sure?" He asked plaintively.

"Well, I've found wet dreams to be rather helpful. If the other person in them happens to have a cock, well, there you go."

"Draco!" And there was that scandalized tone he so loved.

The Slytherin flashed Harry a sly grin. "You did ask."

"Yeah, I guess I did. Still, I wish I could know for sure." Draco shrugged in reply, laying back down and staring up at the crimson canopy on the bed.

"I'd help if I could, but it seems like you're going to have to figure it out on your own, Harry."

Now it was Harry's turn to prop himself up on his elbows. "You mean that? You really would help if you could?"

"Of course. That's what friends do, isn't it? And through some odd twist of fate it appears that I am, indeed, your friend." Oh, what a Hufflepouf he was turning into, Draco reflected wryly. The Slytherin was reluctant to admit it, but the Boy Who Lived had him wrapped around his little finger. Draco consoled himself with the thought that even if he was Harry's bitch he still terrified Longbottom and all of Hufflepuff House without even trying.

Harry wet his lips nervously and examined his ragged fingernails. "Well, uh. There is something you can do. I mean, if you don't mind of course. But if it's too much trouble, I understand. I don't want to bother you or anything and really it's ridiculous and I probably shouldn't have brought it up, but I was just curious and-"

"Harry. Breathe. What do you want me to do?" The babbling was cute, but the alarming shade of red he was turning wasn't. Harry mumbled something inaudible in reply. "What? I didn't quite catch that."

"Kiss me?" The Gryffindor blurted out, his eyes wide as if he was stunned at his own temerity.

Draco froze for a moment, shocked into immobility. Harry looked as if he was going to die of mortification, fiddling with a loose string on his coverlet and almost unraveling it. Draco considered the offer for all of three seconds. "Alright then."

Harry's head snapped up. "Alright? Where's the 'In your dreams, you pathetic sod'?"

The drawling imitation was so canny Draco couldn't bite back his laughter. He shrugged carelessly, turning to face his friend and moving closer. "You can owe me a favor. So, pucker up."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes, but sat up, removed his glasses, and proceeded to lean forward hesitantly. Draco rested his hand on the back of Harry's neck as he drew him in, softly brushing his own lips against Harry's. He did it a second time for just a bit longer and then swiped his tongue against the other boy's bottom lip, savoring the softness and the taste of the other boy's lips. Harry gasped a little, his mouth parting in surprise, and Draco took advantage of the opportunity to slip his tongue into Harry's mouth, running it along the smooth roof of his mouth and then curving it around Harry's tongue as if enticing him to play. Sometime during the kiss Harry's arms had wound around Draco's waist and they were leaning against one another. Draco couldn't hold in the tiny 'mmm' of pleasure, and taking it as encouragement, Harry slid his hands up Draco's back in an unmistakable caress.

All the while, Draco was thinking about how damn lucky he was then he wasn't thinking at all and merely angled his head better and continued to kiss Harry more deeply. The scent and taste of Harry was making him lightheaded, but the feel of his body against his own was enough to make him hard as a rock. It was obvious Harry was becoming aroused too, which made Draco feel as if the room temperature had suddenly gone up five degrees. He made a helpless sound as Harry pushed him on the bed and rolled on top of him, still snogging him silly. Draco tangled his hands in Harry's hair and nipped at the other boy's mouth, forgetting how to breathe when Harry bit his jaw lightly.

Draco hooked his leg over Harry's hip and started sucking on the Gryffindor's neck, laving his tongue along the smooth line of his throat occasionally. Then Harry started nibbling on his ear. "Oh, oh fuck. Don't do that unless you mean it." He groaned against Harry's neck, bucking upwards when a tongue probed his ear before tracing the outer curve of it. Harry nipped at his earlobe and Draco ground himself upwards uncontrollably, closing his eyes as Harry worked the discovered hotspot relentlessly.

Then their mouths met again and the kiss was sloppier, more urgent and passionate. Draco was still thrusting upwards against Harry in short, quick movements and Harry was more than happy to meet every thrust with one of his own. Draco's hand slid downwards before creeping under the other boy's shirt and he tweaked a nipple playfully, delighted at the tiny gasp he got for his efforts. "C'mon. Off." Harry hesitated, but shrugged out of it anyway before unbuttoning Draco's shirt too and peeling it off him.

The sensation of skin against skin was wonderful and Draco wiggled happily under the heavy weight of Harry's lean body. And then Harry started tonguing his nipples, which was just bloody marvelous in his opinion, and Draco was squirming and rocking his lower body against Harry's as he bit his lip to prevent himself from making stupid sounds. It felt so very good, he wished they could stay like this forever, running their hands over each other and kissing like their very lives depended on it.

Harry's pupils had swallowed the green of his eyes and he was panting slightly, his shoulders shifting as he thrust roughly against the Slytherin and abandoned Draco's nipples for his throat again. Draco slid his hands down Harry's back, reveling in the soft skin, and gripped his arse, pulling the other boy against his body tightly so their hips fit together. It was sheer perfection and Draco's breathing was uneven from the steady pulsing of pleasure running through his body.

There was more kissing, groping, and thrusting for a while, their breathless pants and soft moans the only sounds in the room. Draco reached for Harry's fly, intent on getting another look at that gorgeous cock when the other boy stopped him. "Um. I don't think. Er. Let's leave our trousers on, okay? I don't think I'm quite up to that." Draco was disappointed, but unable to refuse that uncertain, pleading expression.

"Sure. Though I think you're up enough." He punctuated his words with a thrust, grinding his hard cock against Harry's and flashing a wicked smirk. "But its your decision." Then Draco kissed him again, sliding one arm around him and resting the palm of his hand against Harry's back and gripping a firm ass cheek with the other. Their tongues were tangled and their hips were moving rapidly against each other. The friction was brutal, but it was just what they needed. Draco made a keening noise in the back of their throat as they writhed together on Harry's bed, mewling and moaning despite his best efforts.

Draco rested his forehead against Harry's shoulder and mouthed whatever bare skin was within reach. He teased at Harry's nipple with his tongue and bit down on it. It was enough to push Harry over the edge and he shuddered in Draco's grip, wet warmth soaking both their crotches as he came. "Oh. Oh god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up." Draco interrupted, twisting underneath Harry and throwing his head back. "Just, oh. Like that." He guided the other boy's hand down and then Harry's calloused, clever hand was pressing against the bulge in Draco's trousers. The Gryffindor ground the heel of his hand against the denim covered erection rhythmically and Draco could only shut his eyes tightly and endure it. Draco was so close it hurt, but he hadn't quite reached that state where everything went quiet and sparks went off behind his eyes yet. "Oh. Fuck." Draco groaned as Harry continued his ministrations while he nibbled on Draco's ear. "Kiss me." He demanded softly and Harry did, deeply and wholeheartedly because as far as Draco could tell he didn't know any other way to kiss.

It didn't take much longer before Draco was gasping against Harry's mouth as the pleasure sizzled up and down his spine and his eyes tried to roll back in his head. He reached orgasm explosively, trembling against Harry for a long moment and then melting back against the bed. They laid there in a tangle of limbs for a long time as their breathing evened and their bodies hummed with satisfaction. Eventually though, their sticky wet crotches kind of ruined the moment. Laughing self-consciously, Harry climbed off the Slytherin and rolled onto his back. "So. Er."

Draco didn't even bother to try and make conversation. He stretched, arching his back the tiniest bit and extending his arms over his head. With a sigh, he rolled over to face Harry and propped his chin up in his hand. He took in the bruised lips, various hickeys, and slightly glazed green eyes with supreme satisfaction. Oh yes, he was good. He didn't know if he'd ever felt quite so happy.

But of course, it couldn't last and once more Lady Luck pissed all over his head.

The door opened with a bang and Granger rushed in breathlessly. "Harry! I found it! You were right! It's - oh my." She halted, staring at the scene with wide eyes. It was more than obvious what they'd been doing and apparently Harry realized it. He leaped off the bed like it was going up in flames, blushing furiously.

"Err. It isn't what it looks like! Well, it is, but um. I mean."

"Yes?" Granger asked, waiting to see exactly how her friend would get himself out of this one.

"I was just experimenting. It didn't really mean anything. We're just friends." Harry said lamely, holding up his shirt in front of him to awkwardly cover the wet spot on his jeans. Draco hardly cared about his tone of voice though. He flinched reflexively at the words, cut to the quick despite the extensive defenses he'd carefully constructed to protect himself over the years. Harry was facing Granger and so he missed it, but the other Gryffindor caught it and her eyes went soft with pity. It was more than Draco could take. He sent her one warning glance communicating the vast lengths he'd go to pay her back if she ratted him out to Harry and stood up.

The Slytherin spoke up coolly, bile rising in his throat and his hands clenched despite his smooth tone of voice. "Look, I'm almost late for Quidditch practice and I wouldn't want to interrupt the Gryffindor love fest. Later, Potter. Granger." And in moments he was dressed and gone, leaving Harry to explain the situation with awkward, fumbling words and puppy dog eyes, completely unaware of the fact he'd hurt Draco badly or that anything was out of the ordinary, the stupid sod.

And Merlin help the Slytherin team during practice, because Draco was out for blood.

To be Continued

Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome.