Draco Malfoy had never been a talkative person. He didn't need people to listen to him pour out his problems, just to leave him alone again. In Draco's personal experience, this was what happened when you did the above. And the only way to avoid it was to keep all the shit to yourself, so no one would ask about it. Instead, Draco preferred to watch people, and observe the way they behaved. It was much more interesting that way. And there was one person in particular he loved to watch.

Draco loved the way his hair shone in sunlight. He loved the way his face was set in concentration during a game, when all he could see was the Snitch. He loved his translucently pale skin and the lean, hard muscles from Quidditch. He loved the strong façade, but he loved the vulnerability underneath even more. Draco loved his smile, and how it altered his serious face, but he loved the intensity in his frown even more. But most of all, Draco loved his eyes, the vivid green in stark contrast to his light skin. He loved how they flashed with determination during a game, or when they lit up with laughter. Of course, Draco himself never caused this laughter, but he was content to watch Harry Potter from a distance.

And this was exactly what he was doing early on a Saturday morning, as the raven-head swooped gracefully through the sky. Draco seated himself at the back of the Quidditch stands, confident in the fact that the boy he was watching was too wrapped up in his flying to notice unwelcome spectators. So, he settled back in his chair and watched the beautiful boy fly.



"Malfoy?!" The surprised voice and face accompanying it startled Draco out of his reverie, and he blinked up at Harry owlishly.

"What?"

"What're you doing here?" Harry sounded very confused, and his brow furrowed—rather adorably, Draco couldn't help but notice—while he tried to fathom why his supposed nemesis was watching him fly.

"I was sitting here peacefully until you showed up." Draco replied blandly.

Harry had the grace to blush slightly, and then frowned again, "Answer me, Malfoy, what're you doing here?"

Draco stood and took a step toward Harry, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Why do you care?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. Opened. Closed. He finally settled for a casual shrug, "I dunno. Maybe I thought you were spying?"

Draco smirked and the words popped out before he could stop them, "As if I'd want to spy on a team like yours, with your infantile strategies and pathetic players." Well, at least he hadn't kissed Harry...er, yet. That showed remarkable self-control, considering how enticing he looked at the moment, windblown hair more messy than usual, perspiring lightly, and green eyes flashing with recent elation.

Harry glowered at him and Draco winced inwardly; this was not going as planned.

He tried again. "Look...I didn't mean that." At Harry's shocked look, he plowed on, relieved that Harry wasn't leaving. "Truth is, I came out here to watch you..." Draco finally trailed away and looked down, suddenly feeling very stupid.

And suddenly also very aware of someone standing very close to him, and saying very softly, "You came to watch me?"

Draco nodded, not daring to look up.

"Why?"

He shrugged, "You look...so free when you fly. Like all your problems are gone, and you can just be yourself. You don't look like that on the ground." As he was speaking, Draco looked up very slowly, "I like watching you when you feel liberated. It's...peaceful."

Harry was watching him, slightly suspicious, extraordinarily surprised. And suddenly, Draco grabbed Harry's beautiful hair and pulled him forward, their lips meeting with a collision of emotions. The green-eyed boy gasped against his mouth as Draco kissed him, first fiercely, as if he wanted to get the most out of it before Harry ran, but then gradually slowing down when he realized that Harry wasn't fighting.

In fact, when Draco's brain finally caught up with his racing heart and mouth, he found himself held tightly against Harry's chest, Draco's own arms wrapping themselves around his neck. This was definitely not what Draco had thought of when he imagined a chance meeting like this one had started out. It was so much bloody better. And at around that point, Draco's brain fell far behind again and he stopped thinking altogether.