Draco.
In an instant their bodies made contact, and the world focused sharply and existed solely around them. The rest of the park faded away; there was no such object as a swing, a street, a housing tract. In the world, there was a four-foot square of sand and them—Harry and Draco, together in the night.
Harry delved deep into Draco's silvery eyes, shining brightly from the excitement of the fight. A reaction quickly presented itself, and Harry's lips parted slightly. If only Malfoy could feel this too…
The brush startled Draco and he dove into the sphere of desire. He flamed inside, wanting more than breath to feel Harry beneath him, and his hands ached with the effort of resistance.
On silent agreement, both boys stepped away from each other. Harry averted his eyes, now finding the support pole quite fascinating. Draco continued to stare, an unreadable expression painted on his features.
"Sorry, I—I, you…" Harry began.
"Yeah."
Draco smiled and moved out of the constricting plane of passion. The headiness of the sensation was hurriedly becoming addicting—it was more than intoxicating, Harry's orange and mint scent wafting through the air between them. He returned to the swings and sat again.
Harry stole a steadying breath before he, too, took the swing again.
"How did you come to be here in the first place, Malfoy?"
A slight blush appeared in his cheeks. He'd been in his new place, putting his personal items around, on the shelves, setting up the tables and furniture, when a particular object caught his eye and he thought only of Harry. It was the "Potter Stinks" badge from the fourth year. Draco had watched from the sidelines, admiring and in awe of the amazing performance Harry had done in the tournament and marinated in envy. His only venue out that would keep his façade for his father was the badges. He was so engrossed in the memories, and the badge charmed in such a way, that in a flash he had been transported to the same location as object of his thoughts—Harry. It was the Transmotre charm, fairly easy to complete, and he did it on accident.
"A sort of subconscious charm." He turned away, "Do you always come here?" and effectively cut off the subject.
"Usually, yes, when I'm allowed out of the house. The Dursleys are some of the worst Muggles on earth—be glad you've never met them."
It was nearing midnight, the designated time for Harry's arrival home. But he promised himself that if he could manage it, he'd be out for at least another hour.
"What time are you going back?"
"I'm waiting for early morning, one-ish."
Harry merely nodded and gazed out at the blue-black blanket of night. Draco pushed back in the swing, and stood there, poised to begin the pendulum motion if released. From here, he could stare at the raven hair and stretch of neck without Harry really noticing.
But he was wrong. Harry felt his eyes on his neck, burning and warm and erotic all at once. Stiffness crept into his body at the simple thought, the sheer action. Lids fell and a few deep, deep breaths were thieved. A sensation of swelling spread, and upon exhale, instead of releasing the pressure, it became more intense.
Harry tensed, the feeling was so acute, so hard to contain. It nearly took the small amounts of breath he had away to just remain sitting on the swing. Fortunately Draco can't see this echoed through Harry's mind as he struggled against the most natural thing in the world—running into Draco's arms.
Draco tore his gaze from the creamy flesh of Harry's neck and stared at the moon. Around eleven fifty—half-hour more. Gripping the chains, Draco removed his feet from the ground, releasing the support and swept back and forth. Harry nearly sighed with the liberation of the stare and his shoulders relaxed imperceptibly. A soft wind brushed past him every time Draco reached the apex of the motion, carrying with it a sandalwood spice.
The silence of the deep-ocean dark was disconcerting, but Harry could not bring himself to break it with idle conversation. Meaningless words that would pass between them were not worth breaking the symphony of sensations that passed between them.
The moans of Draco's swinging chain and the brush of his feet harmonized with Draco's soft breathing, barely audible above the bass sounds of the nature around them. Harry's heart contributed the percussion and the olfactory sensation of sandalwood created a musical adventure greater than Beethoven's works. Harry reveled in the sway of the beat, softly beckoning and lightly laced with passion.
"Harry."
He was abruptly dragged out of the drugging wave of the melody and blinked.
"Yeah?"
He was a bit startled that his object had called him by his first name. Malfoy never did that.
"It's time."
He just nodded, the silence beginning to grow. Harry wanted, needed to fill that hollow with words, drew breath, parted his lips to do so. But nothing would come. The words he needed would not materialize in his brain, he couldn't think of anything to say.
Draco watched the indecision flash across Harry's features, and stepped forward, halted. He brought up a hand, and stopped abruptly. He divided his lips to speak and couldn't do it.
"Harry…" The softest whisper, more like the wind than a voice.
Harry looked up. Draco looked deep into Harry's eyes as he leaned in closer. His eyes shifted to Harry's parted lips as his mouth came into contact with his. This kiss held a different timbre than the past one, sweet and promising, like an "until we next meet" parting. A hand held the back of Harry's neck as the kiss lengthened.
Draco lightly brushed Harry's bottom lip with his tongue before he pulled away, eyes still closed and his fingers whispered on Harry's nape. Harry floated back to earth and opened his eyes just in time to watch Draco disapparate.
"Draco."
* * * * *
Malfoy apparated in front of his wood door, brass number 24 drilled onto it. He looked behind him, and to the sides as well, ascertaining the Muggle population about him. There was no other. Sighing relief, he took out his wand and, quickly as wizardly possible, opened his charms and unlocked the door with Alohomora. He didn't have his key on him remembering the path of travel.
He stepped into the flat, when a sudden chill raced up his spine. Not the heated kind, like with Harry, but the variety he had when his father was near. He quickly turned and pointed his wand in front of him. No one was there.
Draco quickly shut the door and replaced all the charms. Then, with his back to the securely locked gateway, placed his wand on his palm. He whispered a spell and his wand levitated a few centimeters from his flesh. It emitted an azure color and it began rotating in smooth sweeping movements. This seemed to calm Draco remarkably and he muttered something else and replaced his wand in his robes.
He moved into the center of the front room and smiled. The décor radiated an essence of Draco, grays and black splashed with silver in an altogether masculine atmosphere. Thankfully, with the strange talent he possessed, the black did not overpower the room, and thus it didn't seem depressed or cheerless, only calm and relaxing.
Draco continued on through the hallway and into his bedroom, the identical color scheme throughout the flat. In the span of ten minutes, Draco flopped on his bed and stared at the ceiling, bare back and gray pajama pants sliding on the silk sheets.
Images of Harry swam like a motion picture before him, across the ceiling, imprinting in his mind as the flowed past. The soon moved onto this night, Harry washed in moonlight, Harry kissing him, Harry laughing, and the last, Harry's fiercely green eyes after the kiss just as he disapparated.
The images had swelled him, stiffening his body, and the final reflection nearly unmanned him on the spot, it was so intense.
"Oh, God. Harry…"
Draco stood and visited the bathroom before lying back on the bed and drifting off to sleep punctuated by frighteningly handsome pictures of he and Harry making zealous love.
* * * * *
Harry blinked after Draco, completely confused by his last action. He was just about to speak those words that wouldn't seem to come, and Draco had gone. With slothful steps, Harry made his way to number four, thinking consistently about the Parting Kiss.
Why had Draco done it? Harry was sure that he would have left without making such a lasting impression. That kiss was supple and warm, full of pledges and wanting. Now, Harry's body burned with a desire for Draco's, a passion for his touch, a taste for his flesh.
Turning the corner, Harry found himself at his doorstep. He must have been really engrossed in thought, for he felt he'd just left the park. Slowly, so as not to creak the door, Harry stepped through and locked it. He treaded carefully up the steps, skipping the bottom, because it groaned.
Upon entering his room, he became overwhelmed with exhaustion. Lids drooping, he barely was able to crash on his bed before he was asleep completely. This night he was not plagued by horrid nightmares of death and destruction, but lulled with pictures of ardent kisses and fervent embraces.
Nearing four in the morning, Harry woke, slightly cold. He'd left the window open from Malfoy's exotic exit. He padded over and closed the glass. Turning to return to the bed, something glinting caught his Seeker's eye—a thin, almost invisible chain of platinum with a larger gold clasp.
He picked it up and set it near his glasses, he'd get a better look at it in the morning, for there was still much time to get some sleep…
"Wake up!"
Vigorous shaking and extreme bellows jerked Harry from his dreams and he bolted awake, only to discover Uncle Vernon's blurry purple face inches away from his own. Harry felt the wind of air as Vernon shouted at him again.
"That ruddy owl! Get it out, get it OUT!"
Uncle Vernon gave one last shove and stormed out of the room, banging the door open as he left. Harry could hear Hedwig below screeching and flapping.
Grabbing his glasses as he jumped from the bed, Harry ran down the stairs to Hedwig. He knew his Aunt and Uncle, and they probably weren't being very civil to her right now. And sure enough, he entered the kitchen as Aunt Petunia was chasing Hedwig around with the broom, screaming.
"Stop! STOP!"
Harry rushed forward and waved his arms. The screeching stopped and Hedwig flew to Harry's shoulder. He placed a reassuring hand on her feathers as he looked to his flustered and angry relatives.
"I'm sorry, but she wouldn't have hurt you." He looked at his beautiful snowy owl and a smiled flickered across his face.
"That—bloody—bird—I swear I'll…. GET IT OUT!"
There was no need to tell him twice. He grasped Hedwig and ran up the steps and into his room. A few short minutes later, seventeen locks found their way home. The owl dropped something on Harry's lap as he sat on the bed. Hedwig flew across the room, now perching in her cage.
Lifting the envelope from his thigh, Harry stared at his name emblazoned on the front, and then the crest sealing the parchment on the back: Malfoy.
* * * * *
Draco lazily stretched and twisted, releasing all his strong muscles as he awoke to the gentle song of the bluebirds outside. He smiled, remembering all the dreams he had and the most peaceful sleep he'd had in ages.
Throwing back the covers, Draco curled his legs off the bed and rested his feet on the floor. One more stretch of the shoulder blades and he waltzed into the bathroom for a shower. A full throttle HOT knob and much steam beginning to form, Draco pulled off his bottoms and reached back to unhook his chain.
Only, the necklace wasn't there.
He began to panic, real panic. Turning off the water, he raced around the house searching in every nook and all crannies. He nearly tore apart his beautifully decorated apartment in search of the charm, for that is motive for alarm. It was part of the many enchantments and spells he placed around his space, only this was for his person, so he would be protected at all times, no matter the location, no matter the form of travel. This necklace was his invisibility cloak for his father.
After an hour of frantic hunting, no necklace turned up. It must have fallen off while I was with Harry. Draco didn't know what to do. He couldn't leave, for his father would pick up on his scent. There wasn't a way for him to contact Harry, for he didn't have an owl of his own yet (he had to leave his first at Malfoy Manor, he was too easily marked). It was perhaps possible to enchant another piece of jewelry, but many of the required herbs he'd just run out of.
He might just have to risk it, and apparate to Harry's. But there would be much time for his father to sniff him out if the two did not find the necklace immediately. There were many places that the chain could have slipped off, in Harry's room, his backyard, along the way to the tree, the tree…he smiled at the memory…to the park, the swings, the whole park really, Draco thought, for they had that little pebble fight…
Just as Draco was about to give up hope, a several slight taps resonated about the flat. He looked to his kitchen window, and, amazingly, Hedwig flapped around wanting to be let in.
Smart bird, Harry's. Draco shot from the couch and whipped open the window. The snowy owl fluttered onto the kitchen table and stared pointedly at Draco. She looked ruffled and faced her backside to him. Draco glanced down and realized he forgot to put his pajama bottoms back on.
"Sorry, just a moment."
Draco come back with his lower half decently covered and a piece of parchment and all other stationary requirements. Quickly, he scribbled a note to Harry, concerning the necklace and it's safe return. He began folding the letter when a high pitched and piercing screech halted him.
In a strange sort of communication, Draco deciphered that Hedwig wanted to hear what the letter said before she would take it back to her master. Thinking this a bizarre request and even more bizarre that he understood, Draco related the note in full to the owl. He was folding the parchment again when another of her screeches paused him. With the same communication, she relayed her disapproval and told him he needed to find another way.
Malfoy's face bunched with irritation before Draco finally understood what she meant. Rushing back to his desk, he grabbed another piece of parchment, scribbled a new note, read it aloud at another shriek, placed it in an envelope and sent it off with the beautiful bird. He watched her fly off into the brightly risen sun.
"Please come," Draco whispered.
Smiling, but slightly nervous, Draco walked back to the bathroom and showered. Getting out, he put on his robe and strode to his wardrobe. It took him an hour to finally get an outfit together, at which time his hair had gone dry. He inspected his reflection in the mirror, deciding his hair lollopped about in a rather fetching manner, and settled to leave it as is. That was when he glanced about the flat and remembered the state it was in from his perusal.
Over the course of the next few hours, Draco tidied his place and set a bit of a romantic air about, with a few strategically placed candles. He relaxed into the couch, took out a deck of cards, and began to wait.
* * * * *
Harry was stunned, a letter from Draco… Hedwig hooted softly and Harry gazed up at her.
"You went to visit him?" his voice was all astonishment.
She hooted again in reply. Harry carefully opened the envelope, succeeding in not breaking the sealing wax and pulled out the parchment, reading.
Harry,
I've misplaced my necklace in your company yesterday. It is a very important piece of jewelry and I must beg its return.
If you would search for it, I cannot express my gratitude. It is a light chain, made of platinum with a gold clasp.
I cannot leave my flat, and to ensure the safety of the necklace, I would like it if you brought it to me. Your owl, she is very smart by the way, knows the directions and she can lead you here. Be sure to put the necklace on before you go, and leave when you know it to be safe. Thank you.
Yours,
Draco Malfoy
Harry's jaw hung near his thighs as he finished the letter. A necklace? Where would it be? The two had gone all around yesterday, it could be anywhere. Harry began perusing his room when he came to the window and turned to his bed.
It was a sense of déjà vu, he remembered doing something exactly like this last night, and he picked up something shiny. Harry walked to the spot on the carpet he found the thing, and followed his hand to his night table.
There it was, the beautiful chain he saw glinting in the moonlight. It belonged to Draco. Harry picked it up and felt it shimmer from hand to hand as he poured it into his palms. Of course Harry would go, how could he not? An anticipation filled him, and though there was a Hermione-like voice in the back of his head lecturing him on the safety of such a choice, he ignored it completely. What held his attention was the last on Draco's letter.
Yours. What did it mean?