Author: Shirley
Title: Cold
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 661
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Summary: Harry needed something.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
Notes: Written for the third lyricall000 challenge livejournal.
The shoulder I've been leanin' on is the coldest place I've ever known.
Harry had come back to Hogwarts for his sixth year different. Not different in the way he had been after Sirius died. No, it was much worse than that.
He hadn't spoken to anyone on the train back to school that year. Even Ron was at a loss for what was wrong with him. Not that no one had tried to find out. They had spent the first few weeks back at school trying to get him to speak to them. Tell them what was wrong. But the more they tried, the more distant he was.
After a month even Hermione had given up hope. Harry wasn't going to talk to them. He rarely even stayed in the same room with them anymore. He rarely came to meals. He didn't stay in the common room for longer than he had to. Which meant if he wasn't in class he was in his dormitory.
When he was in Gryffindor Tower at all. His housemates had found, recently, that Harry avoided being there at all if he could. Many of them wondered where he was spending his time.
He knew they wouldn't like it if they knew. He wasn't even sure he liked the truth himself.
Harry was crouched down in a corner in an empty classroom. He shouldn't have been there. He knew that. He always knew that.
But he had started, and now he couldn't stop. Because after all he had been through in the last five years, it felt good to be doing something he knew he shouldn't be doing. Not that he had never done anything against the rules. He was quite known for it actually. But that was always some great act of bravery and heroism.
This wasn't. This was for him. This, if anyone found out, would make everyone who had seen him as this great hero look at him differently. And for some reason, that made it even better.
Harry sat and waited. He always waited. He knew it was simply because Draco liked making him wait.
He often wondered why exactly Draco was doing this. He knew his own reasons, but Draco for all Harry had always known, had wanted him dead. But he generally tossed the thoughts of why out of his head. It didn't matter why. Not really.
"You're late," he said quietly when the other boy stepped into the room.
"I'm always late, Potter," Draco replied harshly, "Were you expecting me to change my habits now?"
"No."
Harry stood and walked from the corner where he had made himself comfortable. He walked to Draco.
There was no time for small talk. In fact, they never really talked at all outside of a quick greeting, which was never really friendly and always brief.
Draco grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in, closing the small gap between them. He kissed Harry harshly. There was nothing delicate or sweet about the way they touched. It was always rough. It was always harsh.
It was easier that way. No feelings involved. Harry wanted it that way. When feelings were involved you talked. You became friends. Friends asked questions. Friends wanted to know why you were upset. They wanted you to tell them why you were distant.
Draco wasn't a friend. Draco wanted kissing. Draco wanted sex. Draco wanted to finish quickly, not say goodbye and go back to his common room. Draco wanted to pretend he didn't need Harry the way Harry needed him.
And Harry did need him. He needed something to make him feel like he didn't have to be the hero. Draco never saw him as a hero. Draco thought he was an arrogant, stupid Gryffindor. So being with Draco made him feel…he would say normal, but nothing about what was happening here was normal.
Draco made him feel something though. Even if that something was cold. At least it was something.
It was more than he felt any other time.