Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author: Penguin

Title: LIKE GLASS

Part 9 ¾

Despite the fantastic, melting warmth of the kiss, they were chilled to the bone and had to get out of the water. Harry felt shy now and couldn't understand how he had dared say what he had said, do what he had done. He glanced at Draco's moonlit, preoccupied profile as the other boy put his clothes back on, and he had to smile in wonder at what had happened a few minutes back. Glinting eyes, glittering water, cold skin, warm breath… Draco Malfoy, letting himself be kissed; responding gently but without hesitation... Arms sliding around bodies to hold, to press closer and not let go... Harry's breath caught and warmth rushed through him. He had wanted to touch Draco again ever since that time they woke up together in Diagon Alley – he had known it, but not known how much.

His clothes felt rough against his skin after the silky water. He kept glancing at Draco, incredulous, but Draco's face was calm and serene and impossible to read, and he didn't look back. Harry's heart was pounding; insecurity raging. Was he placing too much importance on the kiss, reading too much into it? Was he expecting too much and seeing things that weren't there because he wanted to see them so badly? What if this was just a one time thing, a drunk impulse, one of those things that happened in a second and then were gone?

But Draco had said he would stay.

Heat uncoiled in Harry's stomach. He reached out a hand and touched Draco's shoulder, wanting to know it was all real. Draco started and turned towards him, and Harry thought he could detect a blush.

"What is it?" Draco's voice was husky.

Harry wasn't sure. It was nothing; it was everything.

"You look fantastic," he said, and it must be true, it must be possible even in the moonlight to see Draco's face turn two shades darker.

That mouth. He just had to kiss it again. So he did, and it was a better kiss this time, when they weren't shivering with cold. And if he had doubted Draco's willingness, he stopped doubting it now. Draco's hands came up over his shoulders; one went into his hair and the other cupped the back of his neck, Draco's tongue was in his mouth and he was gasping and clutching at Draco's cloak to press him closer.

Strange how hot his skin could be in the chilly air. It must be glowing in the dark. Draco's was no cooler; there must be sparks bouncing off them, to be extinguished with a hiss by the drops of water shaken from the trees by the wind.

Harry's hands slid in under Draco's cloak, under the robes, and touched bare skin at his midriff. Draco made a little noise somewhere in between a moan and a whimper, and Harry thought he had never heard anything so wonderful in his life. It was very clear to him what he wanted to do, and judging from the signs, Draco wanted just the same.

Draco's mouth moved away from Harry's and began to wander down his neck, and Harry threw his head back and buried his fingers in Draco's impossibly soft hair.

The last of the chalky rags of cloud had been swept away by the wind, and the sky was clear and full of stars. Harry closed his eyes and moaned.