It started as a pounding in his skull. Like some microscopic parasite with tiny fists bang-bang-banging against the inside of his head. The theoretical parasite had teeth like Granger's, Draco thought as his eyes cracked open.
But the pounding didn't stop. "DRAAACO!" It wasn't a pounding after all, but a firm, rhythmic knocking on the heavy wooden dormroom door. He uttered a soft curse and rolled over to look at his clock; the hand was pointing at a book, covers open and pages fluttering back and forth. He should've been in his Literature class just then.
"Come in," he said loudly. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair as the door opened.
Fiona Fenwick, a third year with gold glitter on her cheeks, bounced into the room. "Hi Draco." She positvely beamed at his mere presence, which bothered him.
"Did you need something, Fenwick?"
She laughed and gave a toss of her blonde-streaked brown hair. "For the final time, Draco, do call me Fiona."
Draco didn't respond. If he had, it would've meant certain explusion.
It was then that Harry Potter stepped into the room, waving a sheet of parchment. "Thank you for escorting me up here, Fiona, but you really don't need to stay."
Fiona frowned. "Professor Snape said not to leave you alone. He said to escort you in, make sure you gave Malfoy your class notes, and escort you back out." She chewed her lip, looking thoughtful, then said, "Oh, and then I'm supposed to return to class."
"He sent me here as punishment," Harry grinned. He held the parchment up. "And he's making me give up the notes I took of today's lesson. We covered uses of poisons in non-deadly potions, how to neutralize the toxicity and so on. Fiona?" Fiona batted black-rimmed eyes at Harry in response. "Can you leave us alone so I can go over the notes with Malfoy?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Professor Snape said - "
"Fiona!" She cowered slightly with Draco's authoritative tone. "Potter's not going to get away with anything while I'm here! Go sit in the common room."
Fiona gave a quick, quiet nod and was gone in a flurry of robes and lavendar scent. Potter smirked as she passed. "Why Draco, it seems she fancies you."
"Quick one, aren't you Potter?" He muttered.
Uninvited, Harry sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "So, erm..." His eyes scanned the parchment. "My handwriting's not so awful that you can't read it, but if you need any clarification..." He trailed off, then fell silent. Hesitantly, Harry leaned over Malfoy, his eyes half-closed and his lips poised for a kiss.
Draco recoiled slightly. "What are you doing?"
That Gryffindor courage seemed to falter. Then Harry pressed a quick kiss to Draco's mouth, much like the one Draco'd initiated the night before.
"Last night wasn't some... some fluke, then," Draco murmured, absently licking his bottom lip.
Harry glanced to one side and made a noncomittal noise.
Being in his own room made Draco more confident. He took hold of Harry's shoulder and guided him downward. Harry's eyes were like saucers and his breath ragged. This time, the kiss was slower and when they broke apart, both boys immediately dove back together for another.
The first few kisses were shy and chaste, but this was wet and warm and sloppy, a uniquely teenage boy kiss. Arms hesitantly snaked around each other as the kiss grew deeper. Harry was making soft, enthusiastic whimpers which vibrated against Draco's mouth, and Harry's glasses were prodding uncomfortably into Draco's cheekbone.
Slowly, Harry pulled back, glasses crooked and face flushed. "I uh, I should go, before Fenwick checks up on us."
"Mmm.." Draco reached out and touched his messy ebony hair. "You should. Fenwick would announce our dalliance to the entire Great Hall this evening if she caught us."
"I won't see you tonight," Harry muttered, leaning into Draco's hand.
He grinned up at the other boy. "I almost wish I had detention with you." Draco didn't, really, but by Harry's smile, it was a good thing to say at the moment.
"Oh, don't say such things," Harry said softly.
For a few moments, romantic cliche kicked in and the world seemed to stop. There was just the two of them, affectionately gazing at each other, gently stroking hair or cheek or soft lip. Then Harry slowly pulled away and slid off the bed.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, still holding Draco's hand.
Draco tugged gently on Harry's hand, pulling him back. "One more? Before you leave? I won't take no for an answer, Potter."
Chuckling softly, he pressed a lingering kiss to Draco's lips. "Like I would've said no," he grinned, moving away from the bed. "Feel better, Malfoy. Sorry again for the potion mishap."
Draco flopped backward on his bed, staring sightlessly up at the canopy above him. "Oh Potter... what HAVE you done to me..."
* * *
"Potter asked about you."
Draco looked up from the crumpled Potions notes spread across his lap. "What?"
"At dinner." Vince looked thoughtful a moment, then raced downstairs and returned with a plate of food. "Forgot where I left it," he explained with a smile, handing it over to Draco. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to sag toward him. Draco managed to steady the plate before it slid off. "Greg's got chocolate biscuits for dessert, but he stayed back to chat up some Hufflepuff." Those biscuits would never make it to the dungeons.
He didn't want to seem too interested in what Harry had said. Shuffled the notes from Potions and History of Magic, pretended to look studious, then cleared his throat and casually said, "So what'd Potter want?"
Vince furrowed his brow. "Um... oh! He asked if you were still sick, and why you didn't come to dinner."
"Oh." Draco could feel his cheeks turning red. "Nosy little... person." Well, that was a cutting insult. He looked away, feeling ashamed.
"You and Potter seem friendlier, kinda." Vince fidgetted slightly, looking very much like he didn't want to be snapped at for his remark. "You two friends now?"
Draco coughed. "No. No. Of course not." Pausing, he picked at a crusty roll on the plate. "Just I don't hate him as much, I suppose." Another pause as Draco swallowed hard, his face flushed. "He's not so bad. Not really."
"Nah. Guess not." Vince snatched a boiled carrot from Draco's plate. "Guess we got mature, didn't we?" He continued, his mouth full of carrot. "Only now we've met really stupid people."
"Weasel," muttered Draco.
Vince nodded in agreement. "Remember Clearwater? Couldn't stand her. Lavender in Gryffindor is a right cunt as well." The coarse language brought a sharp glare from Draco. "S'like, we've met so many people that we really, really dislike for real, actual reasons. Don't need to bother with hating the, uh, the harmless ones."
"Exactly." Draco had picked up the roll and was tearing it into smaller pieces before eating it.
There. That wasn't so hard. He admitted he didn't hate Potter to another person and the world hadn't collapsed around them. When his mind swam with thoughts of Harry's pretty mouth, there was no threat to the continuity of time and space.
"That was brilliant, in Potions. No one at all saw your hex, not even me."
Swallowing a mouthful of bread, Draco felt a pang of guilt. Regardless, he lifted his head and smirked. "I really only wanted to get Weasley." He remembered their exchange just before Potions and suddenly wished he'd cursed Weasley's teeth to fall out. "Potter was... simply collateral damage." Served him right for partnering up with such trash, he thought.
But Vince seemed to have moved from the subject, merely nodding in response and asking, "Where's my new issue of Mega Mage and the Wiz Kids?"
"Under my books on the chair." He gestured vaguely across the room. "Don't forget you've got to revise for History of Magic tomorrow," he added as an afterthought.
Draco thought life seemed surprisingly normal, for the day he'd kissed Harry Potter.
* * *
Hogwarts was hit by a thunderstorm that night. The pouring rain couldn't be heard from the subterranean rooms of Slytherin, and they were perhaps the only House that slept uninterrupted.
* * *
But the pounding didn't stop. "DRAAACO!" It wasn't a pounding after all, but a firm, rhythmic knocking on the heavy wooden dormroom door. He uttered a soft curse and rolled over to look at his clock; the hand was pointing at a book, covers open and pages fluttering back and forth. He should've been in his Literature class just then.
"Come in," he said loudly. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his messy hair as the door opened.
Fiona Fenwick, a third year with gold glitter on her cheeks, bounced into the room. "Hi Draco." She positvely beamed at his mere presence, which bothered him.
"Did you need something, Fenwick?"
She laughed and gave a toss of her blonde-streaked brown hair. "For the final time, Draco, do call me Fiona."
Draco didn't respond. If he had, it would've meant certain explusion.
It was then that Harry Potter stepped into the room, waving a sheet of parchment. "Thank you for escorting me up here, Fiona, but you really don't need to stay."
Fiona frowned. "Professor Snape said not to leave you alone. He said to escort you in, make sure you gave Malfoy your class notes, and escort you back out." She chewed her lip, looking thoughtful, then said, "Oh, and then I'm supposed to return to class."
"He sent me here as punishment," Harry grinned. He held the parchment up. "And he's making me give up the notes I took of today's lesson. We covered uses of poisons in non-deadly potions, how to neutralize the toxicity and so on. Fiona?" Fiona batted black-rimmed eyes at Harry in response. "Can you leave us alone so I can go over the notes with Malfoy?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Professor Snape said - "
"Fiona!" She cowered slightly with Draco's authoritative tone. "Potter's not going to get away with anything while I'm here! Go sit in the common room."
Fiona gave a quick, quiet nod and was gone in a flurry of robes and lavendar scent. Potter smirked as she passed. "Why Draco, it seems she fancies you."
"Quick one, aren't you Potter?" He muttered.
Uninvited, Harry sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "So, erm..." His eyes scanned the parchment. "My handwriting's not so awful that you can't read it, but if you need any clarification..." He trailed off, then fell silent. Hesitantly, Harry leaned over Malfoy, his eyes half-closed and his lips poised for a kiss.
Draco recoiled slightly. "What are you doing?"
That Gryffindor courage seemed to falter. Then Harry pressed a quick kiss to Draco's mouth, much like the one Draco'd initiated the night before.
"Last night wasn't some... some fluke, then," Draco murmured, absently licking his bottom lip.
Harry glanced to one side and made a noncomittal noise.
Being in his own room made Draco more confident. He took hold of Harry's shoulder and guided him downward. Harry's eyes were like saucers and his breath ragged. This time, the kiss was slower and when they broke apart, both boys immediately dove back together for another.
The first few kisses were shy and chaste, but this was wet and warm and sloppy, a uniquely teenage boy kiss. Arms hesitantly snaked around each other as the kiss grew deeper. Harry was making soft, enthusiastic whimpers which vibrated against Draco's mouth, and Harry's glasses were prodding uncomfortably into Draco's cheekbone.
Slowly, Harry pulled back, glasses crooked and face flushed. "I uh, I should go, before Fenwick checks up on us."
"Mmm.." Draco reached out and touched his messy ebony hair. "You should. Fenwick would announce our dalliance to the entire Great Hall this evening if she caught us."
"I won't see you tonight," Harry muttered, leaning into Draco's hand.
He grinned up at the other boy. "I almost wish I had detention with you." Draco didn't, really, but by Harry's smile, it was a good thing to say at the moment.
"Oh, don't say such things," Harry said softly.
For a few moments, romantic cliche kicked in and the world seemed to stop. There was just the two of them, affectionately gazing at each other, gently stroking hair or cheek or soft lip. Then Harry slowly pulled away and slid off the bed.
"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, still holding Draco's hand.
Draco tugged gently on Harry's hand, pulling him back. "One more? Before you leave? I won't take no for an answer, Potter."
Chuckling softly, he pressed a lingering kiss to Draco's lips. "Like I would've said no," he grinned, moving away from the bed. "Feel better, Malfoy. Sorry again for the potion mishap."
Draco flopped backward on his bed, staring sightlessly up at the canopy above him. "Oh Potter... what HAVE you done to me..."
* * *
"Potter asked about you."
Draco looked up from the crumpled Potions notes spread across his lap. "What?"
"At dinner." Vince looked thoughtful a moment, then raced downstairs and returned with a plate of food. "Forgot where I left it," he explained with a smile, handing it over to Draco. He sat heavily on the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to sag toward him. Draco managed to steady the plate before it slid off. "Greg's got chocolate biscuits for dessert, but he stayed back to chat up some Hufflepuff." Those biscuits would never make it to the dungeons.
He didn't want to seem too interested in what Harry had said. Shuffled the notes from Potions and History of Magic, pretended to look studious, then cleared his throat and casually said, "So what'd Potter want?"
Vince furrowed his brow. "Um... oh! He asked if you were still sick, and why you didn't come to dinner."
"Oh." Draco could feel his cheeks turning red. "Nosy little... person." Well, that was a cutting insult. He looked away, feeling ashamed.
"You and Potter seem friendlier, kinda." Vince fidgetted slightly, looking very much like he didn't want to be snapped at for his remark. "You two friends now?"
Draco coughed. "No. No. Of course not." Pausing, he picked at a crusty roll on the plate. "Just I don't hate him as much, I suppose." Another pause as Draco swallowed hard, his face flushed. "He's not so bad. Not really."
"Nah. Guess not." Vince snatched a boiled carrot from Draco's plate. "Guess we got mature, didn't we?" He continued, his mouth full of carrot. "Only now we've met really stupid people."
"Weasel," muttered Draco.
Vince nodded in agreement. "Remember Clearwater? Couldn't stand her. Lavender in Gryffindor is a right cunt as well." The coarse language brought a sharp glare from Draco. "S'like, we've met so many people that we really, really dislike for real, actual reasons. Don't need to bother with hating the, uh, the harmless ones."
"Exactly." Draco had picked up the roll and was tearing it into smaller pieces before eating it.
There. That wasn't so hard. He admitted he didn't hate Potter to another person and the world hadn't collapsed around them. When his mind swam with thoughts of Harry's pretty mouth, there was no threat to the continuity of time and space.
"That was brilliant, in Potions. No one at all saw your hex, not even me."
Swallowing a mouthful of bread, Draco felt a pang of guilt. Regardless, he lifted his head and smirked. "I really only wanted to get Weasley." He remembered their exchange just before Potions and suddenly wished he'd cursed Weasley's teeth to fall out. "Potter was... simply collateral damage." Served him right for partnering up with such trash, he thought.
But Vince seemed to have moved from the subject, merely nodding in response and asking, "Where's my new issue of Mega Mage and the Wiz Kids?"
"Under my books on the chair." He gestured vaguely across the room. "Don't forget you've got to revise for History of Magic tomorrow," he added as an afterthought.
Draco thought life seemed surprisingly normal, for the day he'd kissed Harry Potter.
* * *
Hogwarts was hit by a thunderstorm that night. The pouring rain couldn't be heard from the subterranean rooms of Slytherin, and they were perhaps the only House that slept uninterrupted.
* * *
