Something warm brushed Harry's lips. Something hot and wet flicked across the surface and gently applied pressure to open his mouth. A tongue learning the inside of Harry's mouth, entwining with Harry's own. Hot, damp, arousing, marvelous. Harry's heart thumped against his chest. Pound, pound, pound A hand ran up Harry's arm to the shoulder and a hot, solid, muscled form pressed against his body. Male, then. Harry was relieved; females were too complicated by half. Take Cho Chang for example.
A moan…"umm, Harry." The voice was distorted by emotion and by kissing. Needless to say, Harry couldn't identify the speaker. Scent, too, was prevalent in the tiny cupboard. Heat, musk, and saliva combined into the smell commonly know as sex; but there was also the scents of chalk, cleansing potions, dust and infrequent use. Harry couldn't tell if the other man's signature scent was part of all that. Taste didn't really narrow the field either, as Harry had never tasted another boy in his life unless you counted biting Dudley in retaliation for hanging Harry upside down, when he was four years old. Touch was the only sensation, Harry decided, that might help him identify his assailant.
Hesitantly, despite the passionate tongue wrestling they were involved in, Harry placed a hand at the other boy's back, and slid it down to his hips, pulling him in closer to Harry. Squirming hips settled into Harry's pelvis, telling Harry that both boys were roughly of a size. Whom at Hogwarts was slender and 5'9"? A number of the sixth year boys, probably. Harry wasn't equal in size to most of the seventh years, after all. Still among the seventh years, there must be a few, but were any of them in this good a shape? Well not Seamus or Justin Finch-Fletchley, whom else? Not Terry Boot or Blaise Zabini, and of course not Malf…"Malfoy?!"
The other boy stopped his engaging behavior as if frozen. Harry's hand trailed up to the back of the boy's head. Stiff, gelled back hair met his touch. Bingo! "Malfoy." Not a question this time.
"Harry…I…" Draco Malfoy stuttered uncharacteristically.
"Why did you send for me? What was that note all about? 'love and desire fulfilled'? Explain yourself." Malfoy must have felt Harry's uncompromising air because he seemed to nod in the darkness.
"I didn't know how else to get your attention, Harry. Nothing else has worked. I know; I've tried it all. First year I offered you friendship; you turned me down. Over the years I've tried bad manners, bad behavior, lying, playing tricks, spying to learn more about you, teasing, harassment. Last year, though, I realized it wasn't working, and that I still needed your attention, even if it was negative attention. I began to understand that your opinion, your presence matter more to me than anything else. As long as I was your archrival that was good enough for me. If I couldn't be your friend, I'd be important that way. You started to take me for granted though, and to forget me. I couldn't stand for that. I needed you. Then I came to the conclusion that I must be in love with you, Harry. Otherwise I wouldn't care. I'd move onto another victim. I do care, though. I do love you. I need and want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stay near you, and for you to want me, Harry." Draco seemed distraught and desperate, so Harry placed a reassuring arm around his waist. After all Harry could never resist playing hero, protecting the weak, and saving those in distress.
Draco, taking heart in Harry's action pulled the black-haired boy's face down to his own to passionately prove his lasting regard. Harry considered the blonde boy's words and decided that Draco was correct, they needed each other. Harry could not honestly imagine life without Malfoy, regardless of the fact that life would be less complicated. "No more harassing my friends, alright? Try to be civil, if you're planning on staying around. And no reverting to a Slytherin prat whenever you're pissed off, got it?" Harry poked Draco in the chest with his finger.
Draco stood disbelievingly as the Golden Boy opened the door and left the hall closet without a backward glance. "Wait, Harry! Are you giving me a chance?" Harry turned back to him, a faintly amused smile playing on the Gryffindor's face. "I said so, didn't I? Learn to listen, Draco." He turned, "See you at breakfast." With a slight wave he hurried off down the corridor, leaving Draco to ponder his predicament. How on Earth was he going to handle the bloody Boy Who Lived? Good going, Draco. Way to think ahead. Heaving a sigh the Slytherin closed the cupboard door behind him and headed for the dungeons and a night of restless dreams.
