A/N: The next chapter should be shorter. These are so long, itÂ’s cool and a bit scary. xp
Draco looked up and smiled at him as he walked out into the bedroom. "That looks better," he said. Harry saw that he had hung up his robes. His shoes and socks were lying on the floor.
Harry went to sit on the corner or the bed. "You know, I've realized something weird about you," Harry said.
"Oh?" said Draco, quirking an eyebrow.
"Your room is so neat. You're a teenage boy who doesn't have food or candy lying around. There's hardly any clothes out. Your homework is kept all neat in you bag and your papers and books are kept in your desk. It's unreal. It looks nothing like my dormitory."
Draco chuckled. "I can't help it, I've always been this way. I don't mind messes, I'm just not good at making them."
"White towels?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I use what they give me." Draco shrugged. "Anyway, the potion's almost done. I'm just going to let it brew for a minute or two longer. It should help the bruises, and last for several days." He put his finished homework into his bag.
Harry looked over at Draco. "Can you believe it's been a week since we met in that storage closet?" he asked.
"Exactly a week," said Draco, leaning to stretch.
"Funny," said Harry. "It seems like a lot longer. Tuesday night seems close, but last week feels like it was ages ago."
"It's all that hard Quidditch practice," Draco joked. He turned around to his little cauldron. He blew out the small flame under it, then walked to one of his chests. He pulled out a frosted glass goblet. Walking back to his desk, he ladled the entire contents into it. He walked to the bed and handed it to Harry.
Harry looked down at the pinkish-reddish liquid, and then up at Draco. Draco shrugged at him. Harry was at a loss for what else to do, so he raised his glass, said, "Cheers," and tipped the potion down his throat.
It didn't burn going down, and it tasted almost...nice. The taste made him think of bread which confused him. He looked up from the goblet to find Draco watching him. Draco raised his eyebrows as he took back the goblet. "Not too bad," said Harry.
Draco seemed to accept this because he walked into the bathroom and set the goblet beside the sink. Then he came back to the main room. "What did you think it tasted like?" he asked.
"Like bread," said Harry, rubbing his nose, embarrassed.
Draco laughed. "Interesting," he said. Then he was laughing again.
"What?!" said Harry, flustered.
"The potion tastes different to everyone. The taste is sometimes said to reflect the personality of the drinker. I'm not sure what that says about you," Draco said.
"Maybe I like sandwiches," said Harry a bit disgruntled.
Draco stopped laughing eventually, and walked to the bed. "Now that you had a shower, it's time for your massage. Is that potion working yet? I don't want to prod your bruises."
"I think so; how can we tell?" Harry said.
"Well, I could hit you," Draco said facetiously; Harry rolled his eyes. "But I don't think I need to. Just poke your sides a bit, tell me if it hurts."
Harry did so, then shook his head. "Like normal," he said.
"Good," said Draco. "Now I can begin. Take off your T-shirt." Harry pulled it off, and Draco took it and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. "Lay down on the bed, and stretch out on your stomach."
"What should I do with my arms?" Harry asked.
"Keep them a little ways out from your sides," Draco said. He scooted up beside Harry. "Some people would have you lay on your back, but I think this will be easier. Do you mind if I kneel over you?"
"Um," said Harry.
"I'll just sit on your back with a leg on either side. I'll be able to reach all of your back that way."
"Okay," Harry said.
Draco kneeled on top of Harry, and shook out his arms to limber up. It wasn't that he was stiff, but he was so damn nervous. And for no good reason. He knew what he was doing, and Harry was expecting him to do it. So Draco leaned forward, and began working on Harry's shoulders.
As he worked his way down Harry's back, Harry spoke up. "Where did you learn how to do this? I don't think that most people can just do this out of the blue."
"They can't," said Draco, pounding a little bit. "I learned this," here Draco grunted and had to catch his breath as he gave a large twist with his fist, "from an old woman in London."
Harry waited a minute, then said, "And?" Draco noticed happily that Harry's words were slow and becoming a little slurred.
Draco stretched, then leaned down again. "Off of Diagon Alley is another small wizarding alley that I know of. It's called Zung-Zung Alley. It's smaller, so it's not as well known, and it has a lot of eastern shops in it. One was a massage house that I wandered into when I was...eight. I was sort of lost and I ended up watching this old woman pound away on a few customers. I was fascinated. She was so strong, but she could make them feel wonderful, and only the magic she used was the healing music and candles that made up the background.
"She let me stay in her shop that afternoon; some eight year old, stuck up kid that she didn't even know. After she finished with her first customer, she gave me a cup of tea. And later she gave me a bowl of soup from a pot she had cooking over her fire in the back of her shop. At the end of the afternoon, she had a boy from the neighboring Chinese restaurant show me how to get back to Diagon Alley. She let me know how to get back with Floo Powder.
"My father was angry that I'd disappeared but glad that I'd kept myself occupied. He must have been content with the story I told him.
"After that I went there several times a week for years. Right up to when school began. My parents didn't care as long as I wasn't breaking something valuable at home, and I was there when they wanted me, so it was easy to get away. I was the snottiest kid every where else, but inside Madame Li's shop I acted like someone else. I was someone else."
"Like you are with me," said Harry. His words were sounded as if he was falling asleep, but Draco could see his eyes. He was wide awake and listening.
Draco smiled. "Mm-hmm," he said. "She taught me the basics of massage during those three years, and plenty of other things that she believed. I was just a small boy, so I didn't get much practice, but I did small things. Shoulders, hands and feet, mostly. I also got to know the neighbors pretty well. Got lots of free noodles. Zung-Zung Alley was a place where I could act my own way. I go back every summer for lessons." Draco fell silent, and his hands faltered.
"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly. He almost got up, but Draco pushed him back down again.
"It's nothing that bad really," he said. His voice had gone uneven, and he cursed it inside his head. He didn't want Harry to start thinking he was weak. "It's just...Madame Li predicted her death. She said we will only meet once more. I hope I will see her this summer, but...the way these things work, it might be sometime unexpected, and we won't have a chance to talk."
Harry turned his head, so he could look at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Are you sure? I'm in Divination, and I know prophecies don't always work."
Draco shook his head. "This is different. It's not quite like our magic. She knows when she's dying, and she'll only tell me that we'll meet once more. I've seen other people on that street do it." His voice caught, and he clenched his mouth together, upset with himself.
Harry said quietly, "Maybe if you wrote and asked her to tell you more?"
Draco blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. It might work. I'll try it."
"You've slowed down a lot," said Harry. "Are you done?" He sounded regretful.
"Not yet, I just got distracted. I'm going to do something harder, and then I'll finish up," Draco told him. "This bit might be a little uncomfortable, but it'll feel really good when I'm finished."
He leaned in, and began exerting himself, pressing his fists hard against Harry's back. He cracked Harry's neck, and Harry groaned comfortably. He pushed hard on Harry's shoulders, shifting them up and down. Harry groaned some more. Draco managed to work up a sweat, which meant he was doing his job properly. To finish up, Draco started at Harry's shoulders and began working his way down to Harry's hips, kneading his back like bread dough. Harry made some small, relaxed sounds.
When Draco had made it down to the small of Harry's back, Harry shifted underneath him. "Are you finished?" he faltered.
"Almost," said Draco, a little surprised. He was glad for a chance to catch his breath, but Harry had sounded like he was enjoying this. Now, from the sound of his voice, Draco wasn't sure.
"Could you finish? With this part, I mean," Harry asked hesitantly.
Draco paused with his hands on Harry's back. "Why?" he said, a bit afraid of the answer.
He could see Harry's face go red. "Well, it's just...you're hips keep grinding against my butt, and it's getting really warm here, and...." Harry was blushing madly, and Draco started laughing.
"You think it's warm? I'm the one doing this!" Draco laughed some more. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" Draco asked teasingly.
"Y-yeah," Harry stammered.
Draco grinned at him. "Very well, then. The client is always right." Draco leaned back and repositioned himself. He took a deep breath, and began simply rubbing Harry's skin. The rub-down was the last part of the massage. It calmed Draco down, and softened the rest of it for the person receiving the massage. Harry sighed contentedly, and resettled himself. Draco watched the green eyes slide closed behind the glasses.
Harry's breathing slowed down even more as Draco finished up and Draco thought he might be sleeping. It made him a bit sad because he had wanted to chat some more with Harry before they settled down. But it was beautiful as well; Draco loved to watch Harry sleep. His face smoothed out, and he got the sweetest smile on his face. His eyes were obviously closed, but Draco was willing pass up a chance to stare into them to watch him sleep.
Draco slid his hands along Harry's neck, then down along his shoulder blades, just to be able to touch his skin. Checking Harry's face, to be sure he was sleeping, Draco leaned down, and kneeled over the length of Harry's back. He leaned in close and touched his lips to the wet tips of Harry's hair. A few drops of water stood out, and Draco sucked them off the tips, twisting the hair between his lips to get out all the water out. Then he dropped his mouth down to Harry's skin and left light kisses down to the base of his neck. At the top of his shoulders, Draco sucked harder, kissing Harry's neck the way he wanted to be kissing his mouth. To his surprise, Harry moaned and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin.
"I thought you were asleep," Draco said shakily as Harry looked up at him.
"How am I supposed to be able to sleep through all that?" Harry asked him. His smile was sleepy, but his eyes were awake. "I thought we had an agreement on rape, anyway," he said, with a grin and a glitter in his eyes.
"You laid out your terms on it; I didn't say anything," Draco retorted. Harry smiled more.
He rolled over between Draco's arms. His bare chest was almost pressed against Draco's shirt, and Draco was having a hard time controlling his breathing. "I wonder if I can still remember how to do that kiss you showed me," Harry drawled up at him.
Draco smiled a slow silky smile. "Have you been practicing?" he asked lowly, playfully.
"No," said Harry dolefully, with a grin twitching the corners of his mouth. "It'll have to be all from memory."
"Let's see how good your memory is then," Draco said. He lowered himself to his elbows to make it easier for Harry. Harry pulled up his arms to tangle his fingers into Draco's hair. He raised his head to press his lips against Draco's. The last thing Draco saw of him was Harry's full lips moving up toward him, and then Harry's green eyes engulfed everything.
Harry only hesitated for a moment in their kiss, and it made Draco so glad. Harry could accept him; Harry could love him. Then he forgot about thinking again as Harry pressed his tongue against Draco's closed lips, wanting to be the one to take the kiss further.
They kissed harder, and broke apart for air, and then kissed once more. Draco let Harry muss up his hair as he propped himself against the other. But lying on a bed instead of sitting on a window seat changed everything, and Draco wasn't surprised when Harry began pull back. Their bodies were pressing together, and they were both hot and lightheaded. To continue kissing would likely lead to something they would regret.
"Draco," said Harry, his chest raising as he caught his breath. "Draco, I'm sorry." His breath came gasping out. It shuddered as it would if he was crying; the sounds broke Draco's heart. "I can't go any further with you. Not right now. Not tonight. I'm just not ready for it."
"Hush, love, hush. I know; it's all right. I'm not asking you to," Draco said gently. He leaned his cheek against Harry's forehead. They lay still.
"I know you're not ready," said Draco, sitting up a bit. "I can see it, and it's not a problem. This went further then I meant it to. It probably would have been better if I hadn't been lying on top of you."
"I just wanted you to know that it wasn't you," Harry said despondently, as Draco rolled off to lay beside him.
"I can tell it's not that," said Draco comfortably where he was. "You've never done it before; you've only had one girlfriend before. I can respect that." He picked up the arm he had flopped across his chest, and ruffled Harry's hair fondly.
Harry smiled happily, and moved his head to kiss Draco's wrist. "Thanks, Draco." They lay quietly for a moment, looking at each other. Draco flopped his arm back onto his chest. "I managed to rumple you," Harry said.
"Yeah, you did a good job," Draco told him. He couldn't stop smiling at Harry. There was nothing to fix an argument and a long day than a snog with someone you loved.
Eventually though, Draco had to get up. Harry's eyelids were drooping, and he had some things he wanted to do before he went to bed. He laid a hand on Harry's chest. "I'm going to go take a shower, all right? I don't know about you, but I don't like going to sleep without one, and the Quidditch showers don't count."
Harry's green eyes followed him as he sat up. "So how come you get to see me in only a pair of boxers, but all I get is to see you in a shirt and trousers?" he murmured, jokingly.
"Because that's the way I want you!" said Draco raucously. He smacked Harry in the side.
And immediately regretted it when Harry flinched and went pale. Draco bent over him. "What is it, Harry?" he asked. "It can't be the bruises already."
Harry shook his head. "Something underneath," he muttered.
Draco searched his face, then sprang up from the bed. He pulled out the same tattered book, opened it and scanned a page, then went to his trunks. He came back to his desk with a heap of spell materials. "What are you doing?" Harry asked wearily.
"I never even thought of internal injuries," said Draco fiercely, already measuring out his materials, and dumping them into the empty cauldron. He took a second to look over at Harry. "You didn't feel anything during the massage, though, did you?"
"No." Harry shook his head.
"Well, this should help," Draco said, finishing up with the ingredients. He brushed his hands off on his pants after he set the potion to brew. "It will need to brew for a while; it should be ready when I finish my shower." He rocked back on his heels, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're staying here for the night, right?"
"Yeah...yeah, I thought I would. If you don't mind," Harry said uncertainly. There was a shadow covering his face as he lay on the bed, and Draco could barely see his expression.
"No, I want you to stay," said Draco, relieved. "If you're comfortable with it, it would be great."
Harry nodded and watched Draco walk into the bathroom. The door closed behind him, leaving Harry alone for a bit. He shifted about till he got his head on the pillows, with a good view of the bathroom door. He could hear Draco moving around in the bathroom. Then a minute later, Draco came out of the bathroom. He had stripped down to his boxers. "Forgot a T- shirt," he said awkwardly. Harry just grinned at him; he nearly got Draco to blush.
"Good," Harry said. "We're almost even." Draco's face pinked but he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt. Then Harry saw his mouth quirk. He turned around to face the bed, and slung the shirt over his shoulder. He smiled like a fox, and walked the floor in front of the bed, swinging his hips and pretending to be a fashion model. Harry laughed and threw a pillow at him. Draco threw it back, catching him full in the face, then hurried to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him.
Harry propped the pillow behind him, and settled back comfortably. He could wait. A minute or two later, he heard the water start to run.
Harry blinked as the bathroom door opened again. The light that fell out of the doorway seemed very bright to him. He realized he must have been dozing. He could see Draco walk to the desk and set something on it. The old frosted goblet, Harry realized. He could see through his half- lidded eyes that Draco was now wearing his boxers and the T-shirt. He watched Draco fill up the goblet sleepily. Then the shadows obscured his silhouette. Harry felt the mattress sink a little as Draco sat down beside him. Then Draco leaned forward, and the light from the bathroom hit his face again. Draco must have seen his eyes move, for he whispered, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really," he whispered back.
"Oh good," Draco said. He held out the goblet. "You'll be able to drink this then."
Harry sat up on his elbow, and took the goblet. He took a deep breath, then drank it down. It was hot, and it didn't taste as good as the first. It wasn't awful, though, and in no time he had drank the whole thing. Draco took the goblet and walked it into the bathroom, setting it by the sink. He stuck his head out the door. "I'm going to put out this light, all right?" he said. "The others are all out." His head disappeared again, and then the light went out, leaving Harry blinking in the darkness. He heard Draco's feet padding across the floor, then felt him sit on the bed again. He could begin to see Draco's outline. He saw Draco raise his hands and reach out toward his face. "I'll set your glasses on the side table, okay?" Harry just barely felt his fingertips touch his face, and then felt his glasses lifted from it.
The weight on the bed sifted, and then Harry saw Draco's shape turn back again. The blankets tugged underneath, and so he sat up and helped Draco pull them down. He slid down inside them beside Draco. The sheets were silky and cold from the dungeon air, so he scooted up against Draco. He reached out for him and wrapped his arms around Draco's chest, and pulled them closer together. Draco scooted in too, and they curled up against each other, trying to warm up faster.
Harry snuggled his head against Draco's chest. "What time is it?" he asked.
"Not quite 10:30," Draco told him. He could feel Harry's jaw drop against his chest.
"It doesn't feel like it," Harry said quietly. Draco nodded. Harry remembered something else he had been wanting to ask. "What did you mean when you said those weren't Dark potions, but you had learned them in the same way. What did you mean?"
"They aren't Dark spells, and they don't use the same materials as Dark spells. But my father taught them too me at the same time. They're all either from memory or in little books like that. The spells have been kept within the...the full-blooded families, passed along by mouth, and occasionally written down in a collection. A long time ago, everyone knew the basics of the spells, but as some families branched out to marry Muggles, the full-blooded wizards kept the spells to themselves. Eventually, the details were lost or changed among the mixed-blood families. The original spells can work much better."
"You'd think the other wizards would experiment to make them work better," Harry said sleepily. He stirred, stretching out closer alongside Draco, tangling his legs about him a bit. "You should write all those down in a book, and get it published anonymously." Harry yawned.
Draco blinked at the idea; it was a good one. He stretched his arm out to support Harry's head, and held Harry close with the other. Harry was clinging to him, with his head against Draco's shoulder. Draco felt himself beginning to drift off; beside him, Harry's breath was evening out.
Just before they fell asleep Harry said thickly, "Do you know what I think of when I think of snogging, Draco?"
"Mmm?" Draco murmured, on the verge of sleep.
"I think of a big rounded couch, that's fuzzy and red. And two people sitting on it, across from some big windows that look out across a big empty outdoor space. Big, fuzzy, and comfortable. That's what snogging makes me think of," Harry finished up.
It was a full minute before Draco managed to get out, "I'll be sure to wake you up in time to get back."
They both fell asleep like that.
Early the next morning, Harry woke to Draco shaking him. "You have to get up now, Harry. I think you'll have time to get back, but you'll have to leave now." Harry groaned and tried to burrow into the blankets, but Draco pulled them completely off. The dungeon air was chill after the November night and Harry shivered. Draco handed him his glasses, and Harry noticed that Draco had already dressed while Harry still slept. Draco then dropped Harry's clothes onto the bed, and helped Harry into them.
At the door, Draco watched as Harry pulled on his shoes. "Ready? Let's go, then," he said.
"You don't have to come if you don't want," Harry said quickly. Draco looked into his face and read something there. Harry let him.
"All right then," Draco said. He even managed not to look hurt by it. "When you walk up to the common room wall, it will open for you." He handed Harry's his cloak.
Harry thanked him, put it on, and left. All he wanted to worry about was how to get back without waking Ron, but he could tell he wasn't going to be that lucky.
The only time he wasted getting back was taking a moment to watch the sun come up over the lake.
A/N: let me know if you think the Zung-Zung Alley thing is completely not good and I will do my best to bury it. I'm still not certain about it.
Draco looked up and smiled at him as he walked out into the bedroom. "That looks better," he said. Harry saw that he had hung up his robes. His shoes and socks were lying on the floor.
Harry went to sit on the corner or the bed. "You know, I've realized something weird about you," Harry said.
"Oh?" said Draco, quirking an eyebrow.
"Your room is so neat. You're a teenage boy who doesn't have food or candy lying around. There's hardly any clothes out. Your homework is kept all neat in you bag and your papers and books are kept in your desk. It's unreal. It looks nothing like my dormitory."
Draco chuckled. "I can't help it, I've always been this way. I don't mind messes, I'm just not good at making them."
"White towels?" Harry asked incredulously.
"I use what they give me." Draco shrugged. "Anyway, the potion's almost done. I'm just going to let it brew for a minute or two longer. It should help the bruises, and last for several days." He put his finished homework into his bag.
Harry looked over at Draco. "Can you believe it's been a week since we met in that storage closet?" he asked.
"Exactly a week," said Draco, leaning to stretch.
"Funny," said Harry. "It seems like a lot longer. Tuesday night seems close, but last week feels like it was ages ago."
"It's all that hard Quidditch practice," Draco joked. He turned around to his little cauldron. He blew out the small flame under it, then walked to one of his chests. He pulled out a frosted glass goblet. Walking back to his desk, he ladled the entire contents into it. He walked to the bed and handed it to Harry.
Harry looked down at the pinkish-reddish liquid, and then up at Draco. Draco shrugged at him. Harry was at a loss for what else to do, so he raised his glass, said, "Cheers," and tipped the potion down his throat.
It didn't burn going down, and it tasted almost...nice. The taste made him think of bread which confused him. He looked up from the goblet to find Draco watching him. Draco raised his eyebrows as he took back the goblet. "Not too bad," said Harry.
Draco seemed to accept this because he walked into the bathroom and set the goblet beside the sink. Then he came back to the main room. "What did you think it tasted like?" he asked.
"Like bread," said Harry, rubbing his nose, embarrassed.
Draco laughed. "Interesting," he said. Then he was laughing again.
"What?!" said Harry, flustered.
"The potion tastes different to everyone. The taste is sometimes said to reflect the personality of the drinker. I'm not sure what that says about you," Draco said.
"Maybe I like sandwiches," said Harry a bit disgruntled.
Draco stopped laughing eventually, and walked to the bed. "Now that you had a shower, it's time for your massage. Is that potion working yet? I don't want to prod your bruises."
"I think so; how can we tell?" Harry said.
"Well, I could hit you," Draco said facetiously; Harry rolled his eyes. "But I don't think I need to. Just poke your sides a bit, tell me if it hurts."
Harry did so, then shook his head. "Like normal," he said.
"Good," said Draco. "Now I can begin. Take off your T-shirt." Harry pulled it off, and Draco took it and dropped it on the floor beside the bed. "Lay down on the bed, and stretch out on your stomach."
"What should I do with my arms?" Harry asked.
"Keep them a little ways out from your sides," Draco said. He scooted up beside Harry. "Some people would have you lay on your back, but I think this will be easier. Do you mind if I kneel over you?"
"Um," said Harry.
"I'll just sit on your back with a leg on either side. I'll be able to reach all of your back that way."
"Okay," Harry said.
Draco kneeled on top of Harry, and shook out his arms to limber up. It wasn't that he was stiff, but he was so damn nervous. And for no good reason. He knew what he was doing, and Harry was expecting him to do it. So Draco leaned forward, and began working on Harry's shoulders.
As he worked his way down Harry's back, Harry spoke up. "Where did you learn how to do this? I don't think that most people can just do this out of the blue."
"They can't," said Draco, pounding a little bit. "I learned this," here Draco grunted and had to catch his breath as he gave a large twist with his fist, "from an old woman in London."
Harry waited a minute, then said, "And?" Draco noticed happily that Harry's words were slow and becoming a little slurred.
Draco stretched, then leaned down again. "Off of Diagon Alley is another small wizarding alley that I know of. It's called Zung-Zung Alley. It's smaller, so it's not as well known, and it has a lot of eastern shops in it. One was a massage house that I wandered into when I was...eight. I was sort of lost and I ended up watching this old woman pound away on a few customers. I was fascinated. She was so strong, but she could make them feel wonderful, and only the magic she used was the healing music and candles that made up the background.
"She let me stay in her shop that afternoon; some eight year old, stuck up kid that she didn't even know. After she finished with her first customer, she gave me a cup of tea. And later she gave me a bowl of soup from a pot she had cooking over her fire in the back of her shop. At the end of the afternoon, she had a boy from the neighboring Chinese restaurant show me how to get back to Diagon Alley. She let me know how to get back with Floo Powder.
"My father was angry that I'd disappeared but glad that I'd kept myself occupied. He must have been content with the story I told him.
"After that I went there several times a week for years. Right up to when school began. My parents didn't care as long as I wasn't breaking something valuable at home, and I was there when they wanted me, so it was easy to get away. I was the snottiest kid every where else, but inside Madame Li's shop I acted like someone else. I was someone else."
"Like you are with me," said Harry. His words were sounded as if he was falling asleep, but Draco could see his eyes. He was wide awake and listening.
Draco smiled. "Mm-hmm," he said. "She taught me the basics of massage during those three years, and plenty of other things that she believed. I was just a small boy, so I didn't get much practice, but I did small things. Shoulders, hands and feet, mostly. I also got to know the neighbors pretty well. Got lots of free noodles. Zung-Zung Alley was a place where I could act my own way. I go back every summer for lessons." Draco fell silent, and his hands faltered.
"What is it?" Harry asked worriedly. He almost got up, but Draco pushed him back down again.
"It's nothing that bad really," he said. His voice had gone uneven, and he cursed it inside his head. He didn't want Harry to start thinking he was weak. "It's just...Madame Li predicted her death. She said we will only meet once more. I hope I will see her this summer, but...the way these things work, it might be sometime unexpected, and we won't have a chance to talk."
Harry turned his head, so he could look at Draco out of the corner of his eye. "Are you sure? I'm in Divination, and I know prophecies don't always work."
Draco shook his head. "This is different. It's not quite like our magic. She knows when she's dying, and she'll only tell me that we'll meet once more. I've seen other people on that street do it." His voice caught, and he clenched his mouth together, upset with himself.
Harry said quietly, "Maybe if you wrote and asked her to tell you more?"
Draco blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. It might work. I'll try it."
"You've slowed down a lot," said Harry. "Are you done?" He sounded regretful.
"Not yet, I just got distracted. I'm going to do something harder, and then I'll finish up," Draco told him. "This bit might be a little uncomfortable, but it'll feel really good when I'm finished."
He leaned in, and began exerting himself, pressing his fists hard against Harry's back. He cracked Harry's neck, and Harry groaned comfortably. He pushed hard on Harry's shoulders, shifting them up and down. Harry groaned some more. Draco managed to work up a sweat, which meant he was doing his job properly. To finish up, Draco started at Harry's shoulders and began working his way down to Harry's hips, kneading his back like bread dough. Harry made some small, relaxed sounds.
When Draco had made it down to the small of Harry's back, Harry shifted underneath him. "Are you finished?" he faltered.
"Almost," said Draco, a little surprised. He was glad for a chance to catch his breath, but Harry had sounded like he was enjoying this. Now, from the sound of his voice, Draco wasn't sure.
"Could you finish? With this part, I mean," Harry asked hesitantly.
Draco paused with his hands on Harry's back. "Why?" he said, a bit afraid of the answer.
He could see Harry's face go red. "Well, it's just...you're hips keep grinding against my butt, and it's getting really warm here, and...." Harry was blushing madly, and Draco started laughing.
"You think it's warm? I'm the one doing this!" Draco laughed some more. "Does it make you uncomfortable?" Draco asked teasingly.
"Y-yeah," Harry stammered.
Draco grinned at him. "Very well, then. The client is always right." Draco leaned back and repositioned himself. He took a deep breath, and began simply rubbing Harry's skin. The rub-down was the last part of the massage. It calmed Draco down, and softened the rest of it for the person receiving the massage. Harry sighed contentedly, and resettled himself. Draco watched the green eyes slide closed behind the glasses.
Harry's breathing slowed down even more as Draco finished up and Draco thought he might be sleeping. It made him a bit sad because he had wanted to chat some more with Harry before they settled down. But it was beautiful as well; Draco loved to watch Harry sleep. His face smoothed out, and he got the sweetest smile on his face. His eyes were obviously closed, but Draco was willing pass up a chance to stare into them to watch him sleep.
Draco slid his hands along Harry's neck, then down along his shoulder blades, just to be able to touch his skin. Checking Harry's face, to be sure he was sleeping, Draco leaned down, and kneeled over the length of Harry's back. He leaned in close and touched his lips to the wet tips of Harry's hair. A few drops of water stood out, and Draco sucked them off the tips, twisting the hair between his lips to get out all the water out. Then he dropped his mouth down to Harry's skin and left light kisses down to the base of his neck. At the top of his shoulders, Draco sucked harder, kissing Harry's neck the way he wanted to be kissing his mouth. To his surprise, Harry moaned and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin.
"I thought you were asleep," Draco said shakily as Harry looked up at him.
"How am I supposed to be able to sleep through all that?" Harry asked him. His smile was sleepy, but his eyes were awake. "I thought we had an agreement on rape, anyway," he said, with a grin and a glitter in his eyes.
"You laid out your terms on it; I didn't say anything," Draco retorted. Harry smiled more.
He rolled over between Draco's arms. His bare chest was almost pressed against Draco's shirt, and Draco was having a hard time controlling his breathing. "I wonder if I can still remember how to do that kiss you showed me," Harry drawled up at him.
Draco smiled a slow silky smile. "Have you been practicing?" he asked lowly, playfully.
"No," said Harry dolefully, with a grin twitching the corners of his mouth. "It'll have to be all from memory."
"Let's see how good your memory is then," Draco said. He lowered himself to his elbows to make it easier for Harry. Harry pulled up his arms to tangle his fingers into Draco's hair. He raised his head to press his lips against Draco's. The last thing Draco saw of him was Harry's full lips moving up toward him, and then Harry's green eyes engulfed everything.
Harry only hesitated for a moment in their kiss, and it made Draco so glad. Harry could accept him; Harry could love him. Then he forgot about thinking again as Harry pressed his tongue against Draco's closed lips, wanting to be the one to take the kiss further.
They kissed harder, and broke apart for air, and then kissed once more. Draco let Harry muss up his hair as he propped himself against the other. But lying on a bed instead of sitting on a window seat changed everything, and Draco wasn't surprised when Harry began pull back. Their bodies were pressing together, and they were both hot and lightheaded. To continue kissing would likely lead to something they would regret.
"Draco," said Harry, his chest raising as he caught his breath. "Draco, I'm sorry." His breath came gasping out. It shuddered as it would if he was crying; the sounds broke Draco's heart. "I can't go any further with you. Not right now. Not tonight. I'm just not ready for it."
"Hush, love, hush. I know; it's all right. I'm not asking you to," Draco said gently. He leaned his cheek against Harry's forehead. They lay still.
"I know you're not ready," said Draco, sitting up a bit. "I can see it, and it's not a problem. This went further then I meant it to. It probably would have been better if I hadn't been lying on top of you."
"I just wanted you to know that it wasn't you," Harry said despondently, as Draco rolled off to lay beside him.
"I can tell it's not that," said Draco comfortably where he was. "You've never done it before; you've only had one girlfriend before. I can respect that." He picked up the arm he had flopped across his chest, and ruffled Harry's hair fondly.
Harry smiled happily, and moved his head to kiss Draco's wrist. "Thanks, Draco." They lay quietly for a moment, looking at each other. Draco flopped his arm back onto his chest. "I managed to rumple you," Harry said.
"Yeah, you did a good job," Draco told him. He couldn't stop smiling at Harry. There was nothing to fix an argument and a long day than a snog with someone you loved.
Eventually though, Draco had to get up. Harry's eyelids were drooping, and he had some things he wanted to do before he went to bed. He laid a hand on Harry's chest. "I'm going to go take a shower, all right? I don't know about you, but I don't like going to sleep without one, and the Quidditch showers don't count."
Harry's green eyes followed him as he sat up. "So how come you get to see me in only a pair of boxers, but all I get is to see you in a shirt and trousers?" he murmured, jokingly.
"Because that's the way I want you!" said Draco raucously. He smacked Harry in the side.
And immediately regretted it when Harry flinched and went pale. Draco bent over him. "What is it, Harry?" he asked. "It can't be the bruises already."
Harry shook his head. "Something underneath," he muttered.
Draco searched his face, then sprang up from the bed. He pulled out the same tattered book, opened it and scanned a page, then went to his trunks. He came back to his desk with a heap of spell materials. "What are you doing?" Harry asked wearily.
"I never even thought of internal injuries," said Draco fiercely, already measuring out his materials, and dumping them into the empty cauldron. He took a second to look over at Harry. "You didn't feel anything during the massage, though, did you?"
"No." Harry shook his head.
"Well, this should help," Draco said, finishing up with the ingredients. He brushed his hands off on his pants after he set the potion to brew. "It will need to brew for a while; it should be ready when I finish my shower." He rocked back on his heels, and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're staying here for the night, right?"
"Yeah...yeah, I thought I would. If you don't mind," Harry said uncertainly. There was a shadow covering his face as he lay on the bed, and Draco could barely see his expression.
"No, I want you to stay," said Draco, relieved. "If you're comfortable with it, it would be great."
Harry nodded and watched Draco walk into the bathroom. The door closed behind him, leaving Harry alone for a bit. He shifted about till he got his head on the pillows, with a good view of the bathroom door. He could hear Draco moving around in the bathroom. Then a minute later, Draco came out of the bathroom. He had stripped down to his boxers. "Forgot a T- shirt," he said awkwardly. Harry just grinned at him; he nearly got Draco to blush.
"Good," Harry said. "We're almost even." Draco's face pinked but he opened the wardrobe and pulled out a shirt. Then Harry saw his mouth quirk. He turned around to face the bed, and slung the shirt over his shoulder. He smiled like a fox, and walked the floor in front of the bed, swinging his hips and pretending to be a fashion model. Harry laughed and threw a pillow at him. Draco threw it back, catching him full in the face, then hurried to the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind him.
Harry propped the pillow behind him, and settled back comfortably. He could wait. A minute or two later, he heard the water start to run.
Harry blinked as the bathroom door opened again. The light that fell out of the doorway seemed very bright to him. He realized he must have been dozing. He could see Draco walk to the desk and set something on it. The old frosted goblet, Harry realized. He could see through his half- lidded eyes that Draco was now wearing his boxers and the T-shirt. He watched Draco fill up the goblet sleepily. Then the shadows obscured his silhouette. Harry felt the mattress sink a little as Draco sat down beside him. Then Draco leaned forward, and the light from the bathroom hit his face again. Draco must have seen his eyes move, for he whispered, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
Harry shook his head. "Not really," he whispered back.
"Oh good," Draco said. He held out the goblet. "You'll be able to drink this then."
Harry sat up on his elbow, and took the goblet. He took a deep breath, then drank it down. It was hot, and it didn't taste as good as the first. It wasn't awful, though, and in no time he had drank the whole thing. Draco took the goblet and walked it into the bathroom, setting it by the sink. He stuck his head out the door. "I'm going to put out this light, all right?" he said. "The others are all out." His head disappeared again, and then the light went out, leaving Harry blinking in the darkness. He heard Draco's feet padding across the floor, then felt him sit on the bed again. He could begin to see Draco's outline. He saw Draco raise his hands and reach out toward his face. "I'll set your glasses on the side table, okay?" Harry just barely felt his fingertips touch his face, and then felt his glasses lifted from it.
The weight on the bed sifted, and then Harry saw Draco's shape turn back again. The blankets tugged underneath, and so he sat up and helped Draco pull them down. He slid down inside them beside Draco. The sheets were silky and cold from the dungeon air, so he scooted up against Draco. He reached out for him and wrapped his arms around Draco's chest, and pulled them closer together. Draco scooted in too, and they curled up against each other, trying to warm up faster.
Harry snuggled his head against Draco's chest. "What time is it?" he asked.
"Not quite 10:30," Draco told him. He could feel Harry's jaw drop against his chest.
"It doesn't feel like it," Harry said quietly. Draco nodded. Harry remembered something else he had been wanting to ask. "What did you mean when you said those weren't Dark potions, but you had learned them in the same way. What did you mean?"
"They aren't Dark spells, and they don't use the same materials as Dark spells. But my father taught them too me at the same time. They're all either from memory or in little books like that. The spells have been kept within the...the full-blooded families, passed along by mouth, and occasionally written down in a collection. A long time ago, everyone knew the basics of the spells, but as some families branched out to marry Muggles, the full-blooded wizards kept the spells to themselves. Eventually, the details were lost or changed among the mixed-blood families. The original spells can work much better."
"You'd think the other wizards would experiment to make them work better," Harry said sleepily. He stirred, stretching out closer alongside Draco, tangling his legs about him a bit. "You should write all those down in a book, and get it published anonymously." Harry yawned.
Draco blinked at the idea; it was a good one. He stretched his arm out to support Harry's head, and held Harry close with the other. Harry was clinging to him, with his head against Draco's shoulder. Draco felt himself beginning to drift off; beside him, Harry's breath was evening out.
Just before they fell asleep Harry said thickly, "Do you know what I think of when I think of snogging, Draco?"
"Mmm?" Draco murmured, on the verge of sleep.
"I think of a big rounded couch, that's fuzzy and red. And two people sitting on it, across from some big windows that look out across a big empty outdoor space. Big, fuzzy, and comfortable. That's what snogging makes me think of," Harry finished up.
It was a full minute before Draco managed to get out, "I'll be sure to wake you up in time to get back."
They both fell asleep like that.
Early the next morning, Harry woke to Draco shaking him. "You have to get up now, Harry. I think you'll have time to get back, but you'll have to leave now." Harry groaned and tried to burrow into the blankets, but Draco pulled them completely off. The dungeon air was chill after the November night and Harry shivered. Draco handed him his glasses, and Harry noticed that Draco had already dressed while Harry still slept. Draco then dropped Harry's clothes onto the bed, and helped Harry into them.
At the door, Draco watched as Harry pulled on his shoes. "Ready? Let's go, then," he said.
"You don't have to come if you don't want," Harry said quickly. Draco looked into his face and read something there. Harry let him.
"All right then," Draco said. He even managed not to look hurt by it. "When you walk up to the common room wall, it will open for you." He handed Harry's his cloak.
Harry thanked him, put it on, and left. All he wanted to worry about was how to get back without waking Ron, but he could tell he wasn't going to be that lucky.
The only time he wasted getting back was taking a moment to watch the sun come up over the lake.
A/N: let me know if you think the Zung-Zung Alley thing is completely not good and I will do my best to bury it. I'm still not certain about it.