Hello! My names Ashley and this is my first ever h/d fanfic, so please be nice in your comments. I would appreciate constructive criticism as much as praises, so keep that in mind.
Warning: This story is a *slash* fanfic, meaning that there is a male/male coupling. If you don't like it, don't read it okay? No need to flame me.
I will respond to reviews at the bottom of each chapter. Lets compromise here. You want new chapters, and I want reviews. Lets both give and get. ^_^
With no further ado, here's chapter 1.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: The Fall :::
"Is it true? They're saying it all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" a small boy about Harry's size asked, stepping into the compartment.
"Yes," said Harry, slightly warily. He was looking at the other boys with the blonde. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy in question, they looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the boy offhandedly, noticing where Harry's gaze was. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they could afford," Malfoy sneered. He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's in an offer of friendship, but Harry didn't take his offered hand.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks," Harry said, turning his back on Malfoy for the first of many times to come.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: Draco :::
Draco Malfoy sat lightly on the edge of his Nimbus 2001, slowly circling the Quidditch pitch. To everyone in the stands, he looked calm and determined, and every bit the picture of regal elegance that he was. His impeccable hair was slicked back into its normal tidy style, thought several pieces had come undone during the game, and were falling into his eyes, framed his face, and giving him a rugged, sexy look that only he could pull off. His silver and green Quidditch uniform was neatly pressed and perfectly fitted to the Slytherin's lean, yet defined frame. Everything about him screamed out confidence and superiority, but on the inside, Draco was anything but that.
Not for the first time, Draco caught himself staring at the Gryffindor seeker, replaying the scene on the Hogwarts Express the year they had first met.
'Why was I such a damn insufferable git? I should have known that Potter would defend that boy. It was his first day into the wizarding world and Weasley must've been the first wizard he me, apart from that gamekeeper, Hagrid. Damn it, if only I had gotten to him first!' he thought, hands gripping his broom tightly in anger.
'It's no wonder he rejected me. I know I'm no better than the weasel! I was only a boy then. A stupid boy who believed every word his father fed to him. I was just like my father and look what it's gotten me now,' Draco sighed and directed his broom upwards, going through the motions of the game and pretending to be interested in anything but the raven-haired god floating about somewhere near him.
'Harry's so much better than I ever will be. I want him so much, but the truth remains that he rejected me, and I know it's all my fault. He's so perfect in every way, and I know I don't deserve anything as perfect as him,' the failed seeker conceded, dejectedly. Pulling his broom to a slow-moving hover near the Slytherin goal posts, Draco sought out Harry's form and quickly spotted the boy directly opposite him. He stared wistfully and un-abashedly.
Harry's shoulder length hair was floating softly with the wind as the seeker weaved expertly through the rest of the players, his piercing emerald easily succeeding in doing what Draco should be doing: searching for the snitch. The Firebolt he rode seemed to fly on its own accord, leaving the maroon-clad seeker to use his entire body, without thought, to the task at hand. Harry was several inches taller than Draco, who came about up to the Gryffindor's nose, and also had a wider, more 'built' frame than the small blonde.
Both boys had changed in appearance over the past few years. Harry had grown to an impressive six feet, his once lanky, awkward body having finally grown into that of a man. His shoulders were wide and strong from years of Quidditch practices and through his robes, one could clearly see that his arms and legs, too, had become strong and defined. The unruly raven hair the boy had previously had was let alone and left to grow out to where it no longer looked unkempt, but instead fell loosely down onto his face and neck, softly framing and bringing out his shocking emerald eyes. With his dark tan and new magical contacts, he was, if possible, even more desirable than ever. Draco's looks, on the other hand, hadn't changed quite as much. While he had grown some, his height was nowhere near what Harry's was. Draco grew to a slightly below average height of five foot eight, and his baby's face had become more rigid and strong. His beautiful white- blonde hair was still the same as always, gelled back and tidy, but the boy was beginning to tire of it.
Returning his thoughts to Harry again, Draco pulled his broom to a dead stop and simply sat there and watched. In the background he could hear the commentary of the game and the roar of the crowd. Mentally taking note that the game was tied at 80 points each, Draco knew that it was, yet again, up to the seekers to decide the outcome of the game. Silently, the young Malfoy knew that he didn't stand a chance against Harry, but when it came down to it, he still tried, to no avail. Harry always caught the snitch.
Suddenly, as if on cue, the Gryffindor seeker whipped his head to the right and took off at top speed. He had spotted the golden ball. It only took Draco a fraction of a second to snap out of his revere, before he too shot off towards the snitch.
The two seekers were coming at each other from opposite sides of the field, the golden snitch shooting away from Harry, straight towards Malfoy. Just as the two were about to collide, the snitch darted straight up into the air and both boys followed it, merely inches apart from each other, their brooms vertical and parallel each other, rising higher and higher into the air. The must have been fifty feet up in the air, sixty, seventy, eighty. Then it happened.
What in actuality took only fractions of a second felt like an eternity to the Slytherin. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Harry pulled into the lead and reached out his hand to close around the snitch, but Draco made a last desperate attempt to reach it. He didn't stop to think twice before pressing his feet to the bottom of his broom and pushing himself off it, hoping the momentum would be enough to reach the little golden ball first. Instead, Draco felt his fist close around Harry's, which in turn closed around the snitch. He'd lost again. Distantly he noticed his Nimbus 2001 continue on its path without him as his body continued to shoot up from the force of his jump. He looked over to see Harry staring into his eyes and when he saw a strange emotion flicker across his face, he realized his hand was still around the other boys. An electric sensation shot through Draco's body and he released the Gryffindor's hand in shock. Just as he did, his body stopped its course upwards and in the next second he was falling.
Realizing too late what the result for his actions were, Draco did the only thing he could do and braced himself for the inevitable collision with the ground, hoping that it wouldn't kill him, yet knowing it would. The wind whipped viciously at his body as the plunge to his inexorable death neared its end. Closing his eyes, he tensed up and waited for the impact that never came. Draco felt himself fall into a pair of strong arms and as the black nothingness of unconsciousness took him over, he somehow knew that he was safe.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: Harry :::
Harry Potter was the best seeker the Gryffindor Quidditch team had ever had, and that was saying a lot. Everything came so naturally to the boy, and it was always so easy for him to throw himself completely into the game and come out on top. Today, however, the seeker was finding it hard to concentrate. He had an impending feeling that something big was about to happen, but he just couldn't tell what it was. 'I'd better just find the snitch and end the game as soon as possible. Maybe this feeling will go away then,' he decided.
Then, before he threw himself into the game again, he felt eyes boring into him from behind. Turning his broom, Harry discretely looked over to the opposite side of the field, where he had felt the gaze. From under half closed lashes, he found himself staring into Draco Malfoy's ice blue eyes as they glided hungrily over Harry's body. 'Hungrily?! Ha! You must be day dreaming again chap,' Harry thought. 'Like Draco Malfoy would ever look at you hungrily. He's probably just waiting for me to spot the snitch so he doesn't have to do any of the work,' he argued with himself, but to no avail. He still felt as though Draco's eyes were slowly undressing him with their lingering, meaningful gaze.
Harry was about to look fully into his eyes and question him silently when he saw a familiar glint of gold and whipped his head to the right. He'd spotted the snitch. He shot after it and it swerved the left, directly in front of Harry, before continuing in a straight line directly to the now on- coming Malfoy. Just as the two were about to collide, the snitch shot upwards, the two along with it. Harry instantly and painfully became aware of his close proximity with the smaller blonde boy and had to fight the urge to reach out and gather the Slytherin to his body. He was distracted enough so that he wasn't flying as fast as he knew he could. They kept climbing up into the air, higher and higher until they must have been eighty feet up, at which point Harry snapped out of his trance and urged his broom faster. Just as his hand was about to close around the snitch, he felt Draco jump off his broom in a vain attempt to reach the snitch first. Draco's hand closed over his own, sending a delighted shiver down his spine, but another suddenly replaced the feeling as his ominous feeling of prior assaulted his body. He realized what was going to happen and stared into Draco's eyes, frozen, as the blonde boy's body stopped its upward course and fell.
Paralyzed with fear of losing the boy before ever actually having him, Harry leveled off his broom and stared in horror as his beautiful Draco shut his eyes and tensed for the impact that was sure to come. It was at that moment that Harry realized that the impact didn't have to come, and more importantly, he wouldn't let it come.
In the next instant, Harry was speeding towards the ground in a straight dive. He shot past Draco and leveled his broom off below him, allowing time for him to prepare for the extra weight he was about to have to carry on him broom. Steadying his Firebolt between his two well-muscled legs and gripping the bottom of the broom with his feet, the Gryffindor held out his arms in just enough time to catch Draco safely in his arms.
It took only a second for Harry to realize that Draco was unconscious, and when he did he cradled him on his lap and leaned the blonde's head onto his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around him in an almost possessive gesture, he grabbed his wavering broom single handedly and steered his way to the ground only a few feet below.
Once on the ground, Harry let his surroundings come flooding back to him. He jumped off his broom and lay Draco on the ground, looking nervously around for signs of any injury, though knowing there were none. The boy had simply passed out. The Gryffindor vaguely noticed the pandemonium of sound coming from the stands, but quickly shut it out as he saw Madame Hooch land and hurry quickly towards him and Draco. All he cared about was the un- responsive boy on the ground beneath him.
Cradling Draco's face between his two hands, Harry didn't notice the shocked looks of Ron and Hermione as they made their way onto the field. 'Please be okay, Draco. You have to be. I love you.'
:::::::::: End Ch 1 ::::::::::::
Don't forget to Read/Review! I should have chapter 2 up in a few days, if not less. Thanks for reading! If you need to contact me outside of fanfiction.net, my email address is emerald_visions06@yahoo.com Please entitle your subject 'Harry Potter Fanfiction'. If it is not entitled that and I don't know your email personally, I will not open it. Thanks again!
Warning: This story is a *slash* fanfic, meaning that there is a male/male coupling. If you don't like it, don't read it okay? No need to flame me.
I will respond to reviews at the bottom of each chapter. Lets compromise here. You want new chapters, and I want reviews. Lets both give and get. ^_^
With no further ado, here's chapter 1.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: The Fall :::
"Is it true? They're saying it all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?" a small boy about Harry's size asked, stepping into the compartment.
"Yes," said Harry, slightly warily. He was looking at the other boys with the blonde. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy in question, they looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the boy offhandedly, noticing where Harry's gaze was. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they could afford," Malfoy sneered. He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You wouldn't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand to shake Harry's in an offer of friendship, but Harry didn't take his offered hand.
"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks," Harry said, turning his back on Malfoy for the first of many times to come.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: Draco :::
Draco Malfoy sat lightly on the edge of his Nimbus 2001, slowly circling the Quidditch pitch. To everyone in the stands, he looked calm and determined, and every bit the picture of regal elegance that he was. His impeccable hair was slicked back into its normal tidy style, thought several pieces had come undone during the game, and were falling into his eyes, framed his face, and giving him a rugged, sexy look that only he could pull off. His silver and green Quidditch uniform was neatly pressed and perfectly fitted to the Slytherin's lean, yet defined frame. Everything about him screamed out confidence and superiority, but on the inside, Draco was anything but that.
Not for the first time, Draco caught himself staring at the Gryffindor seeker, replaying the scene on the Hogwarts Express the year they had first met.
'Why was I such a damn insufferable git? I should have known that Potter would defend that boy. It was his first day into the wizarding world and Weasley must've been the first wizard he me, apart from that gamekeeper, Hagrid. Damn it, if only I had gotten to him first!' he thought, hands gripping his broom tightly in anger.
'It's no wonder he rejected me. I know I'm no better than the weasel! I was only a boy then. A stupid boy who believed every word his father fed to him. I was just like my father and look what it's gotten me now,' Draco sighed and directed his broom upwards, going through the motions of the game and pretending to be interested in anything but the raven-haired god floating about somewhere near him.
'Harry's so much better than I ever will be. I want him so much, but the truth remains that he rejected me, and I know it's all my fault. He's so perfect in every way, and I know I don't deserve anything as perfect as him,' the failed seeker conceded, dejectedly. Pulling his broom to a slow-moving hover near the Slytherin goal posts, Draco sought out Harry's form and quickly spotted the boy directly opposite him. He stared wistfully and un-abashedly.
Harry's shoulder length hair was floating softly with the wind as the seeker weaved expertly through the rest of the players, his piercing emerald easily succeeding in doing what Draco should be doing: searching for the snitch. The Firebolt he rode seemed to fly on its own accord, leaving the maroon-clad seeker to use his entire body, without thought, to the task at hand. Harry was several inches taller than Draco, who came about up to the Gryffindor's nose, and also had a wider, more 'built' frame than the small blonde.
Both boys had changed in appearance over the past few years. Harry had grown to an impressive six feet, his once lanky, awkward body having finally grown into that of a man. His shoulders were wide and strong from years of Quidditch practices and through his robes, one could clearly see that his arms and legs, too, had become strong and defined. The unruly raven hair the boy had previously had was let alone and left to grow out to where it no longer looked unkempt, but instead fell loosely down onto his face and neck, softly framing and bringing out his shocking emerald eyes. With his dark tan and new magical contacts, he was, if possible, even more desirable than ever. Draco's looks, on the other hand, hadn't changed quite as much. While he had grown some, his height was nowhere near what Harry's was. Draco grew to a slightly below average height of five foot eight, and his baby's face had become more rigid and strong. His beautiful white- blonde hair was still the same as always, gelled back and tidy, but the boy was beginning to tire of it.
Returning his thoughts to Harry again, Draco pulled his broom to a dead stop and simply sat there and watched. In the background he could hear the commentary of the game and the roar of the crowd. Mentally taking note that the game was tied at 80 points each, Draco knew that it was, yet again, up to the seekers to decide the outcome of the game. Silently, the young Malfoy knew that he didn't stand a chance against Harry, but when it came down to it, he still tried, to no avail. Harry always caught the snitch.
Suddenly, as if on cue, the Gryffindor seeker whipped his head to the right and took off at top speed. He had spotted the golden ball. It only took Draco a fraction of a second to snap out of his revere, before he too shot off towards the snitch.
The two seekers were coming at each other from opposite sides of the field, the golden snitch shooting away from Harry, straight towards Malfoy. Just as the two were about to collide, the snitch darted straight up into the air and both boys followed it, merely inches apart from each other, their brooms vertical and parallel each other, rising higher and higher into the air. The must have been fifty feet up in the air, sixty, seventy, eighty. Then it happened.
What in actuality took only fractions of a second felt like an eternity to the Slytherin. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Harry pulled into the lead and reached out his hand to close around the snitch, but Draco made a last desperate attempt to reach it. He didn't stop to think twice before pressing his feet to the bottom of his broom and pushing himself off it, hoping the momentum would be enough to reach the little golden ball first. Instead, Draco felt his fist close around Harry's, which in turn closed around the snitch. He'd lost again. Distantly he noticed his Nimbus 2001 continue on its path without him as his body continued to shoot up from the force of his jump. He looked over to see Harry staring into his eyes and when he saw a strange emotion flicker across his face, he realized his hand was still around the other boys. An electric sensation shot through Draco's body and he released the Gryffindor's hand in shock. Just as he did, his body stopped its course upwards and in the next second he was falling.
Realizing too late what the result for his actions were, Draco did the only thing he could do and braced himself for the inevitable collision with the ground, hoping that it wouldn't kill him, yet knowing it would. The wind whipped viciously at his body as the plunge to his inexorable death neared its end. Closing his eyes, he tensed up and waited for the impact that never came. Draco felt himself fall into a pair of strong arms and as the black nothingness of unconsciousness took him over, he somehow knew that he was safe.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
::: Harry :::
Harry Potter was the best seeker the Gryffindor Quidditch team had ever had, and that was saying a lot. Everything came so naturally to the boy, and it was always so easy for him to throw himself completely into the game and come out on top. Today, however, the seeker was finding it hard to concentrate. He had an impending feeling that something big was about to happen, but he just couldn't tell what it was. 'I'd better just find the snitch and end the game as soon as possible. Maybe this feeling will go away then,' he decided.
Then, before he threw himself into the game again, he felt eyes boring into him from behind. Turning his broom, Harry discretely looked over to the opposite side of the field, where he had felt the gaze. From under half closed lashes, he found himself staring into Draco Malfoy's ice blue eyes as they glided hungrily over Harry's body. 'Hungrily?! Ha! You must be day dreaming again chap,' Harry thought. 'Like Draco Malfoy would ever look at you hungrily. He's probably just waiting for me to spot the snitch so he doesn't have to do any of the work,' he argued with himself, but to no avail. He still felt as though Draco's eyes were slowly undressing him with their lingering, meaningful gaze.
Harry was about to look fully into his eyes and question him silently when he saw a familiar glint of gold and whipped his head to the right. He'd spotted the snitch. He shot after it and it swerved the left, directly in front of Harry, before continuing in a straight line directly to the now on- coming Malfoy. Just as the two were about to collide, the snitch shot upwards, the two along with it. Harry instantly and painfully became aware of his close proximity with the smaller blonde boy and had to fight the urge to reach out and gather the Slytherin to his body. He was distracted enough so that he wasn't flying as fast as he knew he could. They kept climbing up into the air, higher and higher until they must have been eighty feet up, at which point Harry snapped out of his trance and urged his broom faster. Just as his hand was about to close around the snitch, he felt Draco jump off his broom in a vain attempt to reach the snitch first. Draco's hand closed over his own, sending a delighted shiver down his spine, but another suddenly replaced the feeling as his ominous feeling of prior assaulted his body. He realized what was going to happen and stared into Draco's eyes, frozen, as the blonde boy's body stopped its upward course and fell.
Paralyzed with fear of losing the boy before ever actually having him, Harry leveled off his broom and stared in horror as his beautiful Draco shut his eyes and tensed for the impact that was sure to come. It was at that moment that Harry realized that the impact didn't have to come, and more importantly, he wouldn't let it come.
In the next instant, Harry was speeding towards the ground in a straight dive. He shot past Draco and leveled his broom off below him, allowing time for him to prepare for the extra weight he was about to have to carry on him broom. Steadying his Firebolt between his two well-muscled legs and gripping the bottom of the broom with his feet, the Gryffindor held out his arms in just enough time to catch Draco safely in his arms.
It took only a second for Harry to realize that Draco was unconscious, and when he did he cradled him on his lap and leaned the blonde's head onto his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around him in an almost possessive gesture, he grabbed his wavering broom single handedly and steered his way to the ground only a few feet below.
Once on the ground, Harry let his surroundings come flooding back to him. He jumped off his broom and lay Draco on the ground, looking nervously around for signs of any injury, though knowing there were none. The boy had simply passed out. The Gryffindor vaguely noticed the pandemonium of sound coming from the stands, but quickly shut it out as he saw Madame Hooch land and hurry quickly towards him and Draco. All he cared about was the un- responsive boy on the ground beneath him.
Cradling Draco's face between his two hands, Harry didn't notice the shocked looks of Ron and Hermione as they made their way onto the field. 'Please be okay, Draco. You have to be. I love you.'
:::::::::: End Ch 1 ::::::::::::
Don't forget to Read/Review! I should have chapter 2 up in a few days, if not less. Thanks for reading! If you need to contact me outside of fanfiction.net, my email address is emerald_visions06@yahoo.com Please entitle your subject 'Harry Potter Fanfiction'. If it is not entitled that and I don't know your email personally, I will not open it. Thanks again!