A/N: Hey everyone! It's officially the new year! I'd say happy new year, but wishing someone a year of complete happiness is cruel because it's not likely to happen. Sorry, I'm currently in a rather pessimistic mood. Anyway, this chapter's in Draco's perspective (as I said it would be last chapter), and so is the next one (and I believe I mentioned that as well). Enjoy!
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Chapter Eighteen
"I follow you, you follow me
I don't know why you lie so clean
I'll break right through the irony"
"Follow," Breaking Benjamin
Of course Harry was late again. Just because he and Draco had been through a series of revelations over the past few days didn't mean that Harry would bother to make an effort to appear somewhere on time. Startlingly enough, Draco found that he wouldn't change Harry's tendencies to be tardy or to fall behind in things for anything; it was one of the characteristics that made Harry... himself. That and his disregard for stylish clothing. And despite the fact that... Brown... had bought Harry tons of new clothes, he still chose to wear what he classified as "comfortable."
Five minutes later, Draco was pacing the hidden conference room. What was taking Harry so long? Draco ran his hand through his hair and sighed for the umpteenth time, seriously considering taking up the annoying habit of nail biting. Perhaps Harry didn't want to see him anymore? Had the Weasel gotten to him? That son of a bitch. Just when they were finally starting to make some progress... toward what? Where had they been going? All Draco knew was that, waking up next to Harry on the bed, he'd felt better than he'd ever felt before in his entire life. And that was before they'd even had sex. And, frankly, that scared the hell out of him. Yet, here he was, waiting for Harry to come to the conference room. God, he was losing it. He had to get Harry away from his fit of insanity before he was infected, too.
"Losing what?" Harry asked.
Draco yelped and spun around. "Don't fucking do that to me!" he gasped, putting a hand on his chest.
Harry frowned. "Are you okay?" he asked, moving closer.
"Yeah... I just... um..."
"You look pale," Harry commented, reaching out to feel Draco's forehead.
Draco smacked Harry's hand away. "I always look pale," he snapped. "I was just waiting for you to get here. Thanks for taking forever and a half, by the way."
"Uh, it's only been five minutes since you signaled for me to come here," Harry replied. "Oh, and Professor McGonagall almost saw you, you know." He grinned. "Actually, it helped a lot. See, she saw me looking, and I told her I saw Peeves fly by and he was acting suspicious, so she ran out and went to look for him... what?" Harry asked.
"There's something different about you today," Draco said slowly.
"Different? Me? Why? How?" Harry asked, blinking.
Draco moved closer to Harry. "You nervous about something?"
"Me?" Harry asked, his voice just a bit higher than usual. "Why would I be nervous?"
"That's what I'm wondering. Did something happen...?" Draco asked. Harry couldn't possibly be thinking of ending the deal, could he? Damn that Weasel. Damn him straight to hell, right now.
"Are you... growling?" Harry asked, leaning forward.
"What? No. What are you talking about?" Draco scoffed.
"Well, you don't have to get angry at me."
"I'm not angry at you!" And he really wasn't; he was furious with Weasley. Not Harry.
"Then maybe you might want to stop shouting!"
"Who's shouting?"
"You are!"
"I am not!"
"You could have fooled me!"
"Who couldn't?"
Harry snorted. "Right. See you later, Malfoy." He turned around and made to exit the conference room.
"Wait!" Draco yelled. What the hell was he trying to do? Here he was, contemplating what he'd do to the Weasel for attempting to pull Harry away from him, and all he was succeeding in doing was making Harry actually want to get away.
"Why? Is there any possibility that we're going to have sex within the next fifteen minutes? Because I sort of have a class right now. You know, a class that I've been skipping repeatedly for quite awhile now? A class that I just finished all ofmy make up homework for? A class that I more or less slipped out of about five minutes ago without any real permission to do so?"
"Yeah, I know that class," Draco said, stalling for time.
Harry stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. "Yeah. I'm going to get back to that class, then."
"Wait, damnit!" Draco hissed, pulling Harry away from the exit. He was supposed to be the master of tact and manipulation, and here he was making a complete ass of himself and driving the one person in the entire world he could actually tolerate... more than tolerate; actually want around... away from him. "What am I doing?" he muttered under his breath.
"I don't know. What the hell are you doing?"
"Actually, trying to come up with something to say to make you stay," Draco replied honestly.
Harry'sexpression softened visibly. Huh, maybe honesty really was the best policy... occasionally. "Well, you're doing a bloody bad job of it." Most of the malice that had been in Harry's tone had disappeared.
"Yeah, well, I usually don't have this particular problem," Draco muttered.
"What, not knowing what to say?" Harry asked, all anger now replaced by amusement.
"No, actually wanting someone to stay."
Harry froze. "Um... really?" He glanced down at Draco's hand, which was still holding onto his arm. "You really are pretty persistent..."
Draco removed his hand quickly. Great, scare the guy. Brilliant. Come on, find something to say to cover up! "So, you want to have sex within the next fifteen minutes?"
"Actually, now the limit is twelve..." Harry said, a grin playing at the corners of his lips.
"Well, then, clothes off, Potter," Draco commanded, taking on an authoritative air. When Harry hesitated, Draco waved his hand impatiently. "Come on, we haven't got all day."
Harry took off his robes. "Nope," he agreed. "Just twelve minutes."
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"That had to be the fastest we've ever had sex," Harry observed, pulling up his pants. "Twice in twelve fucking minutes..."
"And they were literally fucking minutes... because, you know, we had that amount of time to..." Draco coughed uncomfortably. "Oh, sod off!" he snapped when Harry began to laugh. "I've just had sex! I'm not thinking straight!" Draco covered Harry's mouth with his hand. "And if you tell me that I'm not straight, period, then we won't have sex for a week." He paused, going over what he just said. "Okay, not until tomorrow night, then."
Harry stepped away from Draco's hand. "You really do have a way with words, you know," he said, tugging at his T-shirt.
"I know. It getsme places."
"No kidding," Harry mumbled through the fabric of his robes, which he was currently struggling to get into.
Draco sighed and rolled his eyes, then reached out and helped Harry with his robes. "How do you think the wizarding world would feel if they knew that their hero can't even get dressed properly?"
"I'm late," Harry said shortly, turning around to leave.
Draco sighed in frustration. "You know, I really have no problem with your shrugging off your supposed 'destiny' and all that..."
"Your opinion isn't particularly paid attention to anyway..."
"But you can't just keep on pretending like it's not lurking in your future," Draco finished, raising his voice to talk over Harry.
"Don't give advice you can't follow yourself," Harry said over his shoulder.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco asked.
Harry spun around to face Draco. "What do you think it means? It means it's common knowledge that your Initiation is coming up soon. What are you going to do about it?"
"What am I going to do about it?" Draco felt annoyance bubbling up inside him.
"Yes. Are you going to uphold family tradition or are you going to shock your father and threaten your damned inheritance?"
"Don't you dare talk about my family like you know something about them!" Draco yelled.
"I know a bit about them, considering I've had a few... encounters with your father before."
"I've been fighting with Weasley for years now and you still insist that I don't know anything about him."
"That's not the same thing..."
"The hell it isn't. You don't know a damned thing about me or my life, so just drop it!"
"Then don't assume you know anything about me, got it?"
"Oh, don't worry. I'm never going to bring it up ever again."
"Fine. See you around, Malfoy." Harry exited the room, and Draco could hear him muttering under his breath as he stormed off before the portrait covered the hole in the wall again.
"What the hell happened there?" Draco asked the room. He flopped down into one of the chairs lined up along the table, rubbing his temples. "I went and fucked things up yet again. Bloody perfect. And things were starting to look up, too." He stared down at the floor for several minutes. He couldn't really blame Harry for bristling up the way he had; who wanted to be constantly reminded about having to save the world from an insane Dark Lord? But Harry's remark about the Initiation had hit a little close to home. Draco really didn't know what he was going to do. He was dreading the day when he'dbe summoned to go andget the Dark Mark burned into his skin. Would he refuse? What were his fellow Slytherins going through? He hadn't really been paying attention to much of what happened around him lately.
But Draco felt he was still justified in pointing out that Harry didn't know anything about him or his family. Because his family was probably worse than Harry imagined. And Harry didn't really know much about Draco at all. Sure, he knew what he liked best when they were having sex, and he knew what he liked the least. Harry also knew how to piss Draco off to no end. And he'd just recently discovered that they could actually have a civil conversation. Together. For awhile, anyway. But, other than that, Harry didn't know anything about who Draco really was. And Draco found he didn't know anything about Harry. He knew some of Harry's favorite bands. He knew that he loved to dance. He knew he had friends. He knew how to make Harry scream when they were having sex. What did he really know about Harry as a person? He'd tried to find out before. But Harry'd made a valid point when he'd said that Draco didn't say anything about himself as well. Maybe Draco would just have to open up.
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"Draco? Are you even listening to me?" Pansy asked, waving her hand in front of Draco's eyes.
"Um, yeah," Draco replied, tearing his gaze away from Harry and forcing himself to look at Pansy.
"You were not," she said, a grin playing at her lips. She leaned closer. "You were staring at Potter."
"I was not!" Draco protested.
"Yes, you were." Pansy nodded, glancing at Harry. "And if you weren't trying so hard to get his attention you'd notice that he's staring right back at you every time you stop looking at him. Don't look!" she exclaimed, clamping her hand on Draco's shoulder. "Just trust me, okay?" She shook her head. "Really, if you want whatever you two have going on to stay a secret..."
"Just shut up!" Draco hissed.
"So, did you have a fight or something?"
"What makes you say that?" Draco asked, looking down at their Potions assignment.
"Well, you look completely miserable, now that I've brought it up... and don't try to deny it because I know you too well." Pansy laughed when Draco scowled and slumped his shoulders. "But don't worry. Nobody else has noticed."
"Yes, we fought."
"What about?"
"None of your damn business," Draco retorted.
"All right, fair enough." Pansy nodded. "But can I make a suggestion?" Draco grunted and crossed his arms. Pansy smiled. "Make the first move, Draco. Don't wait for Harry to come around first."
"Since when did you start calling him Harry?" Draco asked.
"Since we started talking awhile ago."
"Really?" A pang of jealousy coursed through Draco's veins. Draco had never really actually addressed Harryas anything other than Potter. Or some sort of insulting "pet" name designed exclusively to piss him off.
"Yeah. It's oddly relieving to talk to him, you know? Like he's the only person in the world that you know is really going to listen to you. And even if he doesn't have any advice to give you or anything... you still feel better because you know he's at least trying to understand you." Pansy shrugged. "Don't tell him I said that, though. In fact, don't tell anyone I said that." She stood up. "Actually, if you could forget I just told you that, I'd really appreciate it."
"Where are you going?"
"Taking my own advice," Pansy said under her breath. She glanced at Draco. "I'm going to go talk to Millie," she explained. "Oh, and you do know that Harry tends to go to the library later at night to do his homework, right?" She winked at Draco and left the Great Hall.
Dracoleaned back in his chair, not really wanting to think about how the hell Pansy knew Harry's schedule so well. So he'd be in the library. Well, Draco could pay him a visit. He watched Harry talk to his friends for another ten minutes, then excuse himself from the table and exit the Great Hall. Draco nodded when he saw Harry head off in the direction of the library. Right, then. He'd give Harry a few minutes to actually do homework, then he'd go and talk to him.
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"My mother's a controlling, possessive bitch, and my father barely ever notices I'm even around," Draco said quietly, sitting down next to Harry in the library.
"What?" Harry asked, looking up from his book.
"I said..."
"No, I heard you. I was just wondering why you just said that."
"Because you made a good point today." Draco shrugged. "Why should you tell me anything about yourself if you don't know anything about me?"
"Er... right..." Harry said uncertainly. "You don't expect me to tell you anything about my parents in return, do you? Because I really don't know all that much about them..."
"No. But you have guardians or something, right?" Draco glared at the people sitting nearby that were trying to get them to shut up and eavesdrop at the same time.
"...Yeah," Harry replied, disgust evident in his tone.
Draco's eyebrows raised. "I gather you don't like them all that much. Why? I'd thought they'd worship you or something. Or at least be pretty lenient, considering what happened to you and your parents."
Harry snorted. "You couldn't be any further from the truth," he said quietly. "Anyway, I'd love to talk about my... family... and whatever else you're willing to discuss, but I sort of have work to do still..."
"Right," Draco said. "That looks like Potions homework. You should definitely do that since Snape always looks like he's one step away from killing you as it is." He leaned forward in order to make eye contact with Harry. "But we're going to talk. Tonight."
Harry gulped and nodded. "Wh...when?"
"What time do you think you'll be finished with all of this?" Draco asked, gesturing at the pile of books and parchment that Harry had spread across the entire length of the table.
"I'm probably going to be here until closing time," Harry replied, glancing longingly at the clock.
"Well, if you'd pay more attention in your classes and use your time more productively..."
"Please," Harry cut in, holding up his hand and grimacing. "You sound too much like Hermione when you talk like that."
Draco shrugged. "She's right, too. Well, when the library closes, meet me in my common room." And with that, he left. And he knew Harry would have said "thanks for asking me" if they hadn't been in a library.
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Draco made his way over to the portrait when he heard Harry scratching on the canvas. He opened it slowly so it wouldn't squeak, then stepped away so Harry could enter. Harry closed the portrait behind him and looked around.
"Any different from the last time you were in here?" Draco asked.
"Nope." Harry shivered. "And still as cold as ever."
Draco groaned. "Here," he said, taking off his sweatshirt. "Put this on." He handed it to Harry.
Harry took it and slipped into it quickly. After a few minutes, he was still rubbing his arms.
"You're still cold?" Draco asked incredulously. Harry only glared at him. Draco rolled his eyes, hiding his grin effectively. "I'll be right back," he said, hurrying over to the stairs. He more or less sprinted to his dorm and retrieved the warm comforter from his bed, then rushed back down to the common room, partially afraid that Harry wouldn't be there when he got back. But he was still there. "Over here," Draco instructed, motioning to the armchair in front of the fire.
Harry moved toward him slowly, still rubbing his arms. "There's only enough room for one," he pointed out, teeth chattering slightly.
"Which is why," Draco said, sitting down in the armchair, "you're going to sit on my lap." He looked up at Harry. Noticing the reluctant look on Harry's face, he patted his thighs and grinned mischievously.
Harry snorted. "Forget it," he said, turning to leave.
Draco jumped out of the chair. "Wait," he said, grabbing Harry's arm. "It'll make you warm," he coaxed, wrapping his arms around Harry.
Harry looked at Draco skeptically. "Okay..."
"It will, I promise," Draco said, moving backward toward the chair and leading Harry along with him. He sat down in the armchair and pulled Harry down on top of him, then spread out the comforter so it was covering them both. Harry sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth spread through his body. He leaned against Draco so his head was resting in the crook of Draco's neck. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry. "So, back to what we were talking about earlier," he said softly, not wanting to scare Harry away like he had before.
"...Uh-huh...?"
"I asked you about your guardians...?"
"Yeah, you did." Harry sighed. "Is this going to be a back and forth question, answer thing?"
"Pretty much." He was relieved when Harry didn't even tense up.
"...Okay."
"Right. So, who do you live with?"
"My uncle Vernon, my aunt Petunia, and my cousin Dudley."
"Dudley?" Draco asked, smiling.
"Yeah," Harry replied, his lips twisting into a half-grin.
"And what are they like?" Draco inquired. When Harry hesitated, Draco began moving his hand up and down Harry's arm. "Come on, I told you a little about what my parents are like. It's your turn now."
Harry sighed. "Right. Okay, Vernon only seems to be happy when he's yelling at me and telling me how much trouble I am, Petunia can't seem to get through the day without ordering me about and making me do a bunch of pointless chores, and Dudley really likes beating me up and stealing my things."
"Sounds like fun," Draco commented, already not really admiring Harry's family.
"Huh, you don't know the half of it."
"My favorite color is blue because it favors my eyes when I wear it," Draco said, changing the subject.
"My favorite color's black." Draco raised an eyebrow. "It makes me more inconspicuous," Harry explained. "Besides, I think I look sort of good in it."
"You do," Draco agreed.
Harry looked up at Draco. "You think so?" he asked, grinning.
"I just said so, didn't I?"
"Yeah."
"So I guess that means I do."
"Huh." Harry was still smiling.
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "I've only served to expand the Golden Boy's ego."
"Yes, pretty soon no one will be good enough for me." Harry laughed. "Come on, get on with it, then."
"I love the rain."
"I love the snow."
"I hate the snow. I've spent too much time around it."
"Snow's just frozen rain."
"Yeah. Key word being frozen." Draco smiled. "And considering your dislike of being cold..."
"Oh, shut up."
"You're strange."
"I said shut up."
"I like the sunrise. Means there's a new day ahead of me. New possibilities."
"I like the sunset. It means the day's over and I have the whole night to do... whatever."
"Whatever?"
"Yeah. Whatever."
"My favorite song is R.E.M.'s 'Losing My Religion.'"
"That's a nice song." Harry snuggled closer to Draco.
"So what's your favorite?" Draco asked.
"Don't have one. My favorite type of music is rock."
"That's close enough."
"I'll compensate by saying my favorite type of movie is horror. House On Haunted Hill, Thirteen Ghosts, Jeepers Creepers, Jeepers Creepers Two,Final Destination, Final Destination Two... oh, and The Butterfly Effect is pretty good. That's not really horror, though."
"Movies?"
Harry looked up at Draco. "You're telling me you've never seen a single movie?"
"I passed a TV in a Muggle shopping mall once..."
Harry laughed. "I'll have to get something set up in here so we can watch movies all night or something."
"So, you just like horror?"
"Well, comedy, too. We'll have to watch Rat Race or It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World sometime."
"Okay. So we're set for a movie night, then," Draco said, oddly pleased about having a simple plan for the future with Harry that didn't involve sex... directly. "My favorite class is Potions."
"Surprise," Harry said sarcastically. "Mine's... uh... Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Surprise," Draco commented, mimicking Harry's tone. And then his expression became more serious. "I have no idea what I'm going to do after school's over."
Harry hesitated for a few seconds, then said, "Neither do I."
"Really? All of the professors keep saying you have major potential."
"Yeah, but for what?" Harry shrugged. "What's the good of having major potential if you don't know what to do with it?"
"Good point." Draco and Harry were silent for awhile, then Draco said, "I don't completely agree with... Voldemort's... beliefs."
"Completely?" Harry asked, not realizing he was holding his breath.
"I don't believe in killing people right and left. Especially if there isn't any real reason to do so. Sure, I may not like mudbloods all that much, but I don't want to kill them. I don't think I'll be able to accept the Dark Mark."
"Really?" Harry had ceased moving altogether.
"Yeah. Because, aside from the fact thatI just mentioned, I don't feel comfortable signing myself over to some aging reptile man whose power isn't as strong as it was years ago."
"So this is a power thing?"
"No, I just think his ideas are dying with the times. There are too many mudbloods today. He'll never be able to get rid of all of them without eventually wiping out all of the wizarding population as well."
"Voldemort sort of reminds me of Hitler."
"Who?"
"Muggle guy. Just like Voldemort's trying to get rid of mudbloods, Hitler tried to get rid of the Jews. He also thought the ideal human being had blonde hair and blue eyes." Draco smirked at Harry, who scowled at him in return. "You don't have blue eyes," he said, sticking out his tongue. Draco caught it between his lips and kissed him.
And they continued to kiss for several minutes before Draco pulled away. "So Hitler reminds you of Voldemort because he tried to kill off... Jews?"
"Well, he also didn't like anyone who didn't fit his view of the perfect human being. He reminds me of Voldemort because Hitler was had brown hair and eyes, and he was a Jew."
"You mean, how Voldemort's not a pureblood?"
"Yeah." Harry closed his eyes. "You already know how I feel about Voldemort." He opened his eyes and looked up at Draco again. "Does this mean you're not going to be a Death Eater? You're not going to be fighting against... well, whoever opposes Voldemort?"
"You mean you?"
"...Yeah."
"I don't know," Draco replied honestly. "I keep envisioning this scenario where I refuse to join him and he kills me."
"Yes, death does tend to influence people's decisions." Harry's voice was toneless.
Draco sighed. "If you weren't the Boy Who Lived, would you still be so against Voldemort?"
"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation.
"How can you be so sure?"
Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just am."
Draco closed his eyes and willed himself to stay calm. "You're sure there's no possibility that you would have sided with Voldemort if what he's done to you never happened?"
Harry straightened and turned to face Draco completely. "Why are you so intent on getting me to say that I might have become a Death Eater?"
"I'm not," Draco protested.
"Sounded like it to me," Harry muttered.
Draco could feel annoyance building up inside him. "So you'd turn down Voldemort, even if he threatened you with death?"
"Yeah."
"You really think it's that simple?" Harry only shrugged in reply. "Damnit, Harry, don't you value your life at all?" Draco snapped.
"Yes, but I also value the lives of the people I love!"
"Oh, that's touchy. A sentiment worthy of a Gryffindor, I'm sure," Draco mocked.
"Of course you wouldn't understand," Harry said through clenched teeth. "You probably don't care about anyone enough."
"It has to do with caring about someone? Oh, so, to show how much you value friendship, you let yourself get killed?" Draco snorted. "Right, so when I 'sacrifice' myself, who will care?" When Harry attempted to stand up, Draco tightened his hold on him. "No, I really want to know. Who's going to even notice I'm gone?"
"Let go of me," Harry demanded, struggling to get away from Draco.
"Answer the question," Draco retorted, not loosening his hold.
"You're hurting me!" Harry shouted.
"I'll let go of you when you give me an answer!" Draco yelled back. "Now, who do you think is really going to give a damn when I defy Voldemort and get myself killed?"
Harry glared at Draco for a few moments, then spat out, "Right now, nobody."
Draco felt a stab of pain jolt through him and he let go of Harry, who stood up and shot across the room instantly. He stopped in front of the portrait hole, turning enough so Draco could hear him clearly, but not enough so Draco could see the expression on his face. "This is exactly why we shouldn't talk," he said quietly. "It's also why this can't go on when school's over. We're just too different." He sighed and exited the room.
Had Harry sounded sad about the deal's end, or had Draco just imagined it?
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"Draco? Draco, honey?" Pansy's voice broke into Draco's self-deprecating thoughts. She reached out and took the bottle of vodka out of his hand. "Take it easy on the alcohol this time, baby, okay?" She set the bottle down on the floor and sat down on the arm of the soft, leather chair.
Millicent sat on the other arm of the chair and ruffled Draco's hair. "You look like shit, sweetie."
Draco scowled. "Thanks."
"What happened?" Pansy asked, wrapping her arm around Draco's shoulders.
Draco sighed. Pansy knew about Harry anyway. "Harry and I fought again."
"Um, Drake, when I told you to make the first move, I didn't want you to instigate another fight."
"I know. We were talking, and we were actually getting along." Draco shook his head in confusion. "Then we're in the middle of this argument, and the next thing I know, Harry's leaving." He closed his eyes and leaned against Pansy. "And he said we couldn't see each other after Hogwarts."
"Oh, baby," Pansy said, resting her head on top of Draco's. "It was just a fight. You two have them all the time."
"Did I miss something here?" Millicent asked, scratching her head in confusion. "Harry who? Not Harry Potter... damn! Why didn't anybody tell me?" she asked, smacking Pansy's arm reproachfully.
"Ow!" Pansy exclaimed, rubbing her shoulder. "Because it was a secret!" she hissed. "Now shut up before someone else hears you!"
Millicent narrowed her eyes at Pansy. "Fine. But we'll be talking later."
"Yeah," Pansy said, her tone implying that she was dreading the event.
"So, I take it you two made up," Draco said.
"That remains to be seen," Millicent said slowly.
"Oh, come on, Millie!" Pansy whined. "I'm stupid, you know that!"
Millicent shrugged. "I guess so. But you're going to tell me things from now on, right?"
Pansy nodded vigorously. "Promise."
Draco sighed. "Great, now that that's settled..."
"Oh, right. What did you fight about, anyway?" Pansy asked.
"So it is Harry Potter, correct?" Millicent asked. When both Pansy and Draco glared at her, she held up her hands. "What? Just getting the facts, that's all. Carry on."
"We were talking about stuff we like. Then we started talking about Vold... Him" he said, correcting himself when he noticed Millicent's grimace, "and what we would end up doing eventually."
"So, basically, you went from comfortable territory into dangerous waters without much warning at all?" Pansy asked. "You just don't do that, Draco. Especially when you're dealing with Harry."
Draco frowned at her. "How would you know this?"
"I've talked to him," Pansy explained. "Haven't you ever heard of tact?"
"Are you kidding me? Of course I have."
"So why are you so blunt with Harry, then?" Millicent asked.
"Because when I'm around him, I can't think straight. I get nervous."
Pansy and Millicent looked at each other, then nodded.
"What?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. When the girls' only response was to smile secretively, he sighed in annoyance and rose to his feet. "Fine, don't tell me. I'm going to bed." He left the room, muttering under his breath about idiotic, twittering, teenage girls who didn't know a damned thing about him or his relationship troubles.
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Draco was drinking coffee at an alarming rate, waiting for Blaise's hangover potion to take effect. Which was why everyone within four seats of him was suddenly sprayed with bitter, hot coffee when Harry signaled for them to meet in the room next to the suit of armor. Instead of waiting the usual fifteen minutes, Draco left the Great Hall after an agonizingly slow five minutes had crawled by. When he entered the room, Harry held out a bundle of clothing that Draco realized was the sweatshirt he'd given to him the night before. "Uh, no, you keep it," he said. "I have too many of them anyway." He also thought it was sexy when Harry wore his clothes. Strange. Harry shrugged and tossed the sweatshirt into a corner of the room. His own clothes followed shortly afterward. Draco, remembering what he'd come to do, stripped as well. "So..."
Harry dropped to his knees and pulled Draco down next to him. And then they were kissing. And then Harry was pushing Draco back onto the floor and doing everything Draco wanted him to do. And then Harry was kissing Draco again and driving into him, and Draco was screaming incoherently. This was what he could sacrifice himself for. Not sex. He realized he could give his life up for Harry. And it didn't scare him at all. It wasn't a revelation, it was an acknowledgement; something that he had denied but had been there all along.
When it was over, Harry collapsed on top of Draco. And Draco found that he enjoyed Harry's weight on top of him. He made a mental note to make sure Harry ate more; he was too light, even for his short height. And Draco realized that he liked being able to worry, to care about someone other than himself.
Harry groaned, then lifted himself up just enough to flop onto the floor beside Draco. "Damn," he whispered. "Every time we have sex, I think it can't get any better. Then it does get better." He rolled over onto his back. "Seriously, if it gets much better than this, I don't think I'll be able to handle it."
Draco laughed. "Can you imagine the headlines?" Harry simply exhaled and closed his eyes. Draco shook his head, smiling. "'Boy Who Lived Driven Insane by Mindblowing Sex with Death Eater's Son.'"
Harry grinned, his eyes still closed, not bothering to reply.
Draco grinned up at the ceiling. He knew what he wanted now. And he knew that Harry wanted it, too. He just had to realize it first. Even if they were different... no, it was because they were so different that they were, ultimately, meant to be together. They'd always challenge each other, give each other something to strive for. When Draco was with Harry, he felt alive. He didn't care about what anyone would think about their being together. Because he loved Harry Potter.
Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes before rising to his feet, hobbling over to his clothes. "Hard surfaces... I hate hard surfaces," he grumbled.
"What about the cold?" Draco asked, sitting up slowly and stretching, wincing slightly.
"Yeah, that, too," Harry said, pouting.
Draco repressed a burst of laughter. "Even though you love the snow."
"Shut up, you," Harry scowled. "See you later." And he left the room.
Draco stood up and began to get dressed. No, he couldn't tell Harry the way he felt yet; he'd scare him off. Harry had to come to terms with his own feelings first. Draco sighed and straightened his tie. "I just hope he realizes how he feels soon," he said to the empty room, "or I'm going to go crazy."
A/N: Okay, I thought the last section was not as good as it could have been. Let me explain: I had the perfect ending typed out. I'm serious, the last section was probably the best thing I've written so far. Then, guess what happened? My sister DELTED THE WHOLE DAMNED THING! I was so pissed I almost... ooh. Just... ooh. So I had to re-type the last section, and I couldn't remember specifially what I'd done. Once again, ooh. Anyway, next chapter's going to be in Draco's perspective again. And don't think things are really looking up for them just yet...
