Disclaimer: Simply borrowing these characters and not making a profit.
Chapter Eight
- Without permission, Yana5, CTB, Midnight Mistress, Copperstring, Draco MalfoyGirl 16, marlyn (cheesedoodleshotmail.com), Fantasy101, Aktrise, Isis-mystic, Shania Maxwell, Jin Munku-JGSPTV - thank you for reviewing!
Special notes to: - Copperstring Hides under the bed in embarrassment. Thanks for pointing that out. I probably should have caught that myself. For future references, he went through the Shrieking Shack and not Honeydukes. So very sorry for the careless mistake. My apologies. - Yana5 Draco couldn't admit that he loved Harry even before the potion, so he blamed it on Harry's extreme power. Draco had been brought to treasure power, and Harry certainly had that, being able to stand up to Voldemort so many times. It was simply easier to put it on that instead of Harry's other qualities. Sorry if that was confusing.
Harry got through his classes half dazed. When he saw Draco, he dropped anything he was holding. Draco, on the other hand, looked strangely composed.
Those words kept repeating themselves in Harry's mind, like a broken record you couldn't throw out.
"It wasn't the dratted potion!"
He heard it over and over again in his head.
A week had passed since their meeting in the North Tower. Harry hadn't gone up there since. Draco spent every spare moment there.
Harry had come to the realization that he didn't mind what Draco said. In fact, he loved to hear those words. That's why he kept playing them in his head.
There's a thin line between love and hate...
Harry was sitting in the common room when Hermione came up to him.
"Harry. We've gotta talk. You've been distant lately. I know something's up. Talk to me. I can help, or at least try," she said bluntly, as she kneeled so she and Harry were on eye level.
Harry looked at her. He studied her face. He decided she seemed sincere. He decided that she really would listen.
"It wasn't the potion."
He hadn't expected her to understand, but Hermione did. She nodded her head to express her understanding.
"He told me last week."
Hermione continued to listen intently but moved to an armchair that she had accioed.
"Why? What do I do now? Do we get together?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yeah. I mean, you love him, regardless of since when, and he loves you," Hermione simply answered. "'Matters of the heart should not be left to the mind,'" she quoted her mother. "And as this is most defiantly a matter of the heart, I think you should go talk with him."
Harry didn't answer. He was staring past Hermione. Hermione turned around.
"I'll see you later," she said, as she walked off.
"You know, for a house that prides itself on braveness, the first years certainly scare easy," came Draco's voice, in reference to his entrance into the Gryffindor common room.
"Why do we have to always make things so fucking complicated?" Harry asked.
"It's in our nature."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"I suppose that in order to make things interesting we have to create drama. And as we all know, we never want to live in a mundane world. In our reality, drama is usually pain, problems, heartbreak," Draco slowly answered.
"Personally, I think the fact that a Gryffindor and Slytherin share even the slightest affections is drama enough," Harry said, with a small smile.
"Hmmm"
"We're idiots, aren't we?"
"A bit."
"'We are not what our mistakes are, but how we deal with those mistakes.'" This time, it was Harry quoting Hermione.
"Fuck! I've got Binns," said Harry, as he got up.
"Don't go," Draco answered, in a very Slytherin-like tone.
Harry, on impulse, took one step towards Draco and pulled him into a kiss. It was a furious kiss. Their tongues battled, their lips bled. Within moments, their robes fell the floor. Their shirts were torn off and belts unbuckled. Not once did they move away from each other. Harry's arms explored every crevice of Draco's pale, flawless skin – the bruises from the Whomping Willow long gone. The sank to the floor in each others unruly embrace.
"Harry?" Neville's timid voice sounded, breaking the fervor that crowded the room. He turned pale when he saw Draco.
He stepped back, tripping over a rug and then ran out of the room.
Harry and Draco looked at each other and grinned.
"Well, let's just say now we're even," said Harry.
"Even? The moments ruined," Draco commented sourly.
"Does wittle Dwacky only fuck when its womantic?" Harry teased.
"Fuck you!"
"Now there we go! We're finally on the same –"Harry never got to finish. They were back on the floor. The remainder of their clothes lay strewn throughout the floor.
End of Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
- Without permission, Yana5, CTB, Midnight Mistress, Copperstring, Draco MalfoyGirl 16, marlyn (cheesedoodleshotmail.com), Fantasy101, Aktrise, Isis-mystic, Shania Maxwell, Jin Munku-JGSPTV - thank you for reviewing!
Special notes to: - Copperstring Hides under the bed in embarrassment. Thanks for pointing that out. I probably should have caught that myself. For future references, he went through the Shrieking Shack and not Honeydukes. So very sorry for the careless mistake. My apologies. - Yana5 Draco couldn't admit that he loved Harry even before the potion, so he blamed it on Harry's extreme power. Draco had been brought to treasure power, and Harry certainly had that, being able to stand up to Voldemort so many times. It was simply easier to put it on that instead of Harry's other qualities. Sorry if that was confusing.
Harry got through his classes half dazed. When he saw Draco, he dropped anything he was holding. Draco, on the other hand, looked strangely composed.
Those words kept repeating themselves in Harry's mind, like a broken record you couldn't throw out.
"It wasn't the dratted potion!"
He heard it over and over again in his head.
A week had passed since their meeting in the North Tower. Harry hadn't gone up there since. Draco spent every spare moment there.
Harry had come to the realization that he didn't mind what Draco said. In fact, he loved to hear those words. That's why he kept playing them in his head.
There's a thin line between love and hate...
Harry was sitting in the common room when Hermione came up to him.
"Harry. We've gotta talk. You've been distant lately. I know something's up. Talk to me. I can help, or at least try," she said bluntly, as she kneeled so she and Harry were on eye level.
Harry looked at her. He studied her face. He decided she seemed sincere. He decided that she really would listen.
"It wasn't the potion."
He hadn't expected her to understand, but Hermione did. She nodded her head to express her understanding.
"He told me last week."
Hermione continued to listen intently but moved to an armchair that she had accioed.
"Why? What do I do now? Do we get together?" he asked sarcastically.
"Yeah. I mean, you love him, regardless of since when, and he loves you," Hermione simply answered. "'Matters of the heart should not be left to the mind,'" she quoted her mother. "And as this is most defiantly a matter of the heart, I think you should go talk with him."
Harry didn't answer. He was staring past Hermione. Hermione turned around.
"I'll see you later," she said, as she walked off.
"You know, for a house that prides itself on braveness, the first years certainly scare easy," came Draco's voice, in reference to his entrance into the Gryffindor common room.
"Why do we have to always make things so fucking complicated?" Harry asked.
"It's in our nature."
"You still haven't answered my question."
"I suppose that in order to make things interesting we have to create drama. And as we all know, we never want to live in a mundane world. In our reality, drama is usually pain, problems, heartbreak," Draco slowly answered.
"Personally, I think the fact that a Gryffindor and Slytherin share even the slightest affections is drama enough," Harry said, with a small smile.
"Hmmm"
"We're idiots, aren't we?"
"A bit."
"'We are not what our mistakes are, but how we deal with those mistakes.'" This time, it was Harry quoting Hermione.
"Fuck! I've got Binns," said Harry, as he got up.
"Don't go," Draco answered, in a very Slytherin-like tone.
Harry, on impulse, took one step towards Draco and pulled him into a kiss. It was a furious kiss. Their tongues battled, their lips bled. Within moments, their robes fell the floor. Their shirts were torn off and belts unbuckled. Not once did they move away from each other. Harry's arms explored every crevice of Draco's pale, flawless skin – the bruises from the Whomping Willow long gone. The sank to the floor in each others unruly embrace.
"Harry?" Neville's timid voice sounded, breaking the fervor that crowded the room. He turned pale when he saw Draco.
He stepped back, tripping over a rug and then ran out of the room.
Harry and Draco looked at each other and grinned.
"Well, let's just say now we're even," said Harry.
"Even? The moments ruined," Draco commented sourly.
"Does wittle Dwacky only fuck when its womantic?" Harry teased.
"Fuck you!"
"Now there we go! We're finally on the same –"Harry never got to finish. They were back on the floor. The remainder of their clothes lay strewn throughout the floor.
End of Chapter Eight