Draco sighed. This was the only time in the day that he truly felt alive. That he truly felt as though there was nothing in the whole world except him. Here he could be anything that he wanted to be. He could act silly and not at all like that brat prince he claimed himself to be in front of others. There was no one here to tell him that he should act his age. No one around to give him orders. He was free to think and feel whatever he wanted to.
He often wondered what would happen to him if he one day decided that he had enough of being the perfect little son to Lucius and Narcissa, or the snobbish brat of Syltherin, or everyone's worst enemy. He wondered what it would be like if he just simply packed up all of his things and left without a word. He imagined that he would travel the world, seeing everything that he could, absorbing all that life had to offer. He would imagine that he lived in a small villa, maybe in Italy or France, near the sea on a cliff that over looked the ocean so that he could watch the sun rise and set every day.
These thoughts were like a drug to Draco, yet every drug wears out. He would open his mind back to reality and he would be the young hot headed brat again. There would be no sea side villa, no freedom. When this happened, he would become angry at the fact that he knew he didn't have the guts to up-root himself from everything. He felt like a fool. A fool that spends way too much time dreaming about his future, but never does anything to work towards it.
He didn't have anything to loose really if he left, as he had quite a large sum of money saved in a secret vault that even his father and mother didn't know about. The people that he had come to know at school, who claimed to be his friends, didn't even mean that much to him. Certainly the taunting and jokes at his expense from some of the other students he wouldn't miss. Esspecially those from Potter and his little gang.
...Potter...
Harry Potter had been the bain of Draco's existance since the moment he met the green-eyed boy the robe shop all those years ago. All he had ever wanted was to show that he wasn't nervous about leaving home for a place he had never been, and people that he didn't know. He never ment to come off a arrogant little snot who thought he was better than everyone else. It angered him that Potter thought this about him when he didn't even know him. How dare he judge Draco when all he had ever seen of him was a frightened little boy that was doing his best not to be scared shitless?
Yet for all that Draco told himself that he hated Potter, there was just something about the boy that drew him towards him. Draco found that from the begining of knowing the raven haired teen, he couldn't stop himself from following him around. He had always wanted to know what made Potter so popular and why those two friends of his went along with whatever he said.
Back in first year he had gotten into trouble himself when he had made the mistake of following Potter and his friends to Hagrid's on the edge of the Dark Forest. He remembered seeing that baby dragon on the table, it's tiny wings newly formed and it's small tail thumping against the heavy wood. Draco had secretly wished he could go inside and play with the creature, but when he was caught looking in, he had made a run for it, cursing himself that he let himself get drawn in like that. He had run to Potter's head of house, intent on getting them in trouble. What he got was punishment for following Potter and his friends. From then on, Draco had only followed Potter with his eyes.
When he had turned thirteen, Draco's eyes caught a lot more of Potter than even he cared to admit. He found himself watching the way that the Griffindor hero lifted his fork at meals, and the way that he always licked his lips after every sip of pumpkin juice. At these times, Draco would always get pulled back into the real world when one of his own friends touched his arm and asked him what he was looking at. Draco would always reef his arm away from that person and scowl, saying that it was none of their buisiness.
That same year, Potter had been attacked numerous times by Dementors, vicious creatures that guarded the wizard prison Azkaban. Truthfully, Draco had moments when he was actually worried about the Griffindor golden boy, though he covered it up with a joke at Potter's expense. His friends would laugh and taunt Potter more after Draco was finished, and Draco would watch the way that Potter's fists clentched at his sides, the way that his cheeks would flush crimson as he held back whatever it was that he wanted to say. Sometimes Draco would say things that he really never ment to say to the Griffindor, instantly regretting it. He wasn't a mean person by nature, but he did have a reputaion of being a heartless bastard towards Potter, so changing the way he acted around him would cause one too many problems for him.
The sun had now risen to the point where it cast it's warm glow on Hogwarts castle, and a gentle breeze had started. Draco knew that the sun would be shining right into the Gryffindor tower right about now, seeping past closed curtains and waking those inside the stone walls. He knew that it would be yet another ten minutes until the sun would reach Potter's own window, waking the green-eyed teen. He knew because he had more than once flew down to watch Potter wake, as the other teen never seemed to shut the curtains by his bed, or the draps around the bed he slept on. Today would be no different it seemed, as Draco guided his Firebolt to Potter's window.
The scene before him was always the same. Potter laying haphazardly on his back, the blankets rumpled around his waist or hips, his T-shirt pulled up to reveal his tanned abdomen from a nights restlessness. His hair would always be more tousled than usual, and his lips would be parted slightly. Draco often wondered why he watched Potter like this, in secret. But he had yet to come up with an answer.
Suddenly one of Potter's arms rose lazily as he scratched his stomach, the other coming up to rube his face. Draco held his breath as his heart began to race. Surely he wasn't waking up right now? He always tended to sleep for the twenty minutes or so that Draco watched him in the mornings.
Draco had never watched Potter wake up before, having always left before that happened, lest he get caught. But today seemed to be full of surprises. While part of his mind told him to get the hell out of there before Potter woke, the other part wanted more than anything to stay. He was never one to do what he was told, so he stayed.
Potter's eyes were opening now, and he licked his lips before yawning widely. Draco wondered absently if Potter had really bad morning breath. Wondered what it would be like to wake up beside him and have that same breath on his skin as he himself woke. Not only that, but Draco began to wonder what it would feel like to have those strong arms wrap around him as the sun warmed their bodies. Would Potter's skin be chilled from a night with thrown back covers? Or would he be warm? Draco thought that the most probable answer would be the latter of the two, as Potter never seemed to him to be cold. This lead him to think that if Potter's body was warm, would his lips be as well?
Draco stopped his thought pattern suddenly. Oh Merlin! He thought to himself, what am I thinking? But of course he knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of what it would be like to be loved by Harry bloody Potter. And just as suddenly, he knew why he would never just up and leave this place. It was like a ton of bricks hitting him square in the chest, knocking the air out of his lungs. He loved Potter. He bloody LOVED him!
Unexpectedly Draco felt sick. How could he let himself fall in love with the one person that he knew hated his guts? What the hell was he going to do now? It wasn't as if he could anounce his feelings to the other teen, and he certainly couldn't tell the other people in his house.
Draco's mind reeled. Shit, shit, shit, SHIT! He thought furiously, completely forgetting that he was right outside Potter's window as he slammed his fist into the glass, waking said teen right up.
Draco caught his breath as he looked straight into Potter's eyes. Eyes that seemed to be more green than ever now that he wasn't wearing his glasses. He sat there hovering on his Firebolt as Harry kicked off his blankets and crossed the tree foot distance between the bed and the glass of the window, where he tilted his head and gazed at Draco. Manuvering out of the way as Potter unlocked the window and pushed it open, Draco felt as though his heart was going to beat out of his chest.
"...M-Malfoy?" Potter asked, his voice as tired as he looked.
Draco swallowed, but said nothing.
"What are you doing?" Potter asked.
Again, Draco said nothing.
Potter sighed. "Malfoy, I'm not in the mood for another one of your pranks, so please leave." He made to shut the window after that, and Draco's mind screamed at him to say something.
"Wait!" He all but begged, wincing at the whimpishness of his voice.
Potter eyed him but didn't shut the window, for which Draco was glad. "...Why?"
Draco swallowed once more and searched for the right words. "Umm... I-I...want you to come flying with me." He finished.
Frowning, Potter replied, "Why would I want to do that?"
"Because I asked nicely and I want company." Draco retorted.
"You think that's a good enough reason?" Potter questioned, his arms crossing over his chest. "For all I know you have those lackies of yours somewhere near here planning to attack me just as soon as I get on my broom, and I really don't feel like being attacked today."
"Who said anything about attacking yo-"
Potter cut him off with a curious gaze and a simple question. "How did you know which window was nearest to my bed?"
Draco blinked. "I...umm..."
"Nevermind," Potter interuppted him again, "just tell me why I should want to go flying with you."
Getting annoyed with being cut off all the time, Draco crossed his own arms and replied, "I have something important to tell you and I can't do it with all your little pals sleeping not ten feet from where we're standing."
"You're flying." Potter corrected him smugly.
"Whatever," Draco said off-handidly, "just come with me. Please?"
Potter eyed him again with a curious look, then to Draco's surprise, nodded once. "Give me five minutes to get dressed and I'll be out."
Draco bit his bottom lip and nodded quickly as he moved around so his back was to the open window. True to his word, Potter was out in five minutes dressed in loose jeans and a long sleeved black shirt. He left the window open behind him as he flew over to where Draco was waiting.
"So... where to?" The Gryffindor asked.
Draco thought for a moment, then replied, "How about the lake?"
Potter nodded his agreement. The flight over was a quiet one, and Draco found his eyes wandering over to Potter, who flew just a few feet away from him. He had never actually believed that the other teen would join him, and he didn't even know yet why he had asked Potter to come. All he knew was that at this moment, he was happy. Very happy.
Once they neared the lake, Draco signaled Potter that he was decending, and recieved a nod in response. They landed on the opposite shore that Hogwarts lay, where there was a small stream that came out of the woods and joined with the main body of the lake. Draco held his broom in one hand as he walked a little ways away from the boy with him, setting it carefully down on the grass before sitting down, pulling his knees up to his chest. Moments later he heard Potter doing the same, though the other teen crossed his legs and rested his elbows on his knees.
"So... what did you want to tell me?" Potter asked.
Draco bit the inside of his cheek. "What do think about me?" He asked, not knowing that he was going to say that, but not regretting it.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what do you think of me. Do you think that I'm a heartless priq who would kill you as soon as to look at you?" Draco asked, tension filling his body.
Potter seemed to consider this, then answered in an unsually soft voice. "I think that you are a very private person who doesn't like it when others pry into his life. I think that there is more to you than meets the eye. You're more than just a snobbish seventeen year old that wants his way all the time," Potter paused, then added. "I think that all you have ever showed, at least to me, is a mask of who you truly are."
Draco held his breath. "Is that all?"
Potter laughed suddenly, "Maybe. But I don't have the guts to tell you the rest."
"Why?" Draco asked, looking sideways at the boy to his right.
Potter shrugged. "You wouldn't like it."
"That isn't a good enough reason. I tell you all the time things that you don't like or want to hear." Draco retorted, making Potter look at him out of the corner of his eye.
"That's because you're missing that little filter in your head that keeps those thoughts in Draco," Potter said.
Draco didn't miss the fact that Potter had just called him by his first name. "I have no idea what your on about Potter, but don't call me that." He replied instantly.
"Call you what? Draco? It is your name."
Draco glared at him. "Only those people who know me or are worthy of knowing me may call me by my first name."
Potter blinked. "Then why did you bring me here?"
"What?"
"Why did you bring me here to talk then if I'm not worthy of knowing you?" Potter asked, his voice betraying a part of him that was hurt.
Draco could have kicked himself. Here he was, sitting in a picturesque setting with the one person that he despised yet loved, and he was basically telling him off. Maybe he was missing that little filter...
"Listen, if you're just going to sit there and glare at me, I'm leaving. You can sit here until you die of old age for all I care." Potter spat as he made to get up.
Draco's mind screamed at him for the second time that morning as his hand flashed out and grabbed onto Potter's sleeve. "Harry wait. I didn't mean to get all pissy with you."
Potter stopped. "Only people I know or are worthy of knowing me may call me by my first name."
Draco laughed weakly. "I guess that I deserved that."
"Yeah, you do." Harry answered, for Draco couldn't force himself to call him Potter anymore.
"Please sit?" Draco asked. "I really do have to tell you something important."
Complying after a moment, Harry resumed his previous position and tilted his head. "Go on."
Taking a deep breath, Draco threw caution to the winds and let all his feelings out. "From the moment I met you, Harry, I wanted to be your friend. But you threw it back into my face. I thought that I would never be able to forgive you for that. I thought that I would hate you forever. But... things changed. I don't hate you, and I probably never will."
"...You... don't hate me?" Harry asked.
Draco shook his head and laughed weakly once more. "I wish I could. It would make everything so much simpler. But no, I don't hate you Harry."
"...Why?" Harry questioned.
"...Because... I-I..." Draco trailed off, unable to force the words out of his mouth.
Harry sat there and looked at him, the wind ruffling his hair and lifting it off his forehead. Draco glanced at him, his eyes traveling up to the famous lightening bolt scar. Without thinking, he reached out his hand and let one long pale finger trace the mark. He could feel Harry shiver beneath his touch and he smiled suddenly.
"...Why?" Harry asked once more, his voice suddenly hoarse.
"You know, I've never really hated the fact that you are The-Boy-Who-Lived." Draco said, ignoring the question. "In fact, I've always admired the fact that you control yourself as much as you do. If I were you, I would be screaming at the top of my lungs everytime some little piece of shit brought it up."
Harry shrugged. "You get used to it. Though to tell you the truth, I always want to hit those people."
Draco laughed, letting his hand fall away from Harry's forehead. "I guess that makes two of us. I've always wanted to hit those people that make you uncomfortable."
"...But, Draco...you are one of those people."
"...And I've always wanted to hit myself when I did it." Draco replied.
Harry looked at him with interest and curiousness. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it?" he all but demanded.
"I guess there's no way of getting around it," Draco sighed.
"No way of getting around what?"
"The fact that I... the fact that I love you." Draco said. "There. It's out in the open for the whole world to see. Draco Malfoy has fallen for Harry Potter."
Draco closed his eyes and waited for the laughter that oddly enough, never came. He didn't dare open his eyes, lest he die of embarssment. He didn't know if Harry was still there, or if he had left him to sit there on the bank of the lake. He didn't know if Harry had been shocked into an early grave himself. He wrapped his arms tighter around his knees and buried his face. Suddenly, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, a hand that trailed it's way up towards Draco's cheek.
"...Draco?"
Draco didn't answer.
"...Are you still alive?"
Draco twitched.
"...Come on, I can see you breathing Draco."
Draco bit his bottom lip.
"...If you don't look at me right now I swear to God that I'll find a way to make you."
Again Draco twitched.
Then it hit him. Harry's fingers had found his sides where Draco was most ticklish. Draco tried to keep his laughter in, but it was no good. Falling backwards, Draco laughed silently as Harry's leaned next to him, ruthlessly attacking him with his fingers. Draco had his eyes shut, yet he could tell that Harry was grinning like a madman.
"Stop! I give in! I GIVE IN!" Draco cried out as he tried to catch his breath.
"Then look at me." Harry told him.
For once in his life, Draco listened to what he was told, opening his eyes slowly. Harry was indeed grinning like a madman, his eyes alight with amusement.
"You...suck..." Draco panted as he lay there on the grass.
"You know, that's the first time that I've ever heard you laugh." Harry stated as he sat back on his heels.
Draco narrowed his eyes in mock anger as his pursed his lips. "Enjoy it while you can. You'll never hear it again."
"Oh really?" Harry asked mischeiviously as he reached out for Draco's sides again.
Not having time to get away, Draco found himself laughing once more as his hands rose to try and fend off Harry, griping the stronger teens forearms. Harry himself was laughing as well, as Draco looked every bit the complete opposite that he seemed to be, his always immaculate hair rumpled with bits of grass stuck in it, his cheeks flushed.
"Give up?" Harry asked.
Draco gasped. "Never!"
Harry shrugged. "You asked for it."
Draco prepared himself for another onslaut of tickling, but was surprised and confused when Harry's face lowered towards his.
"What are you doing?" Draco squeaked.
"Say it again." Was the response.
Draco frowned. "Say what again."
"Tell me that you love me." Harry said.
Draco swallowed, and whispered, "I love you."
Harry's face softened and he whispered back. "Thank-you."
"For what?" Draco asked, his breathing still rapid.
"For loving me." Harry replied, then closed the gap between them.
Draco had been wondering what Harry Potter's lips would feel like, and now he got his answer. His lips were soft and warm against his own, and tasted like mint. Draco didn't even notice that Harry had went to brush his teeth earlier when he was waiting for him. He felt his arms rise from their position on Harry's forearms until they were locked loosely around the raven haired teens neck. At the same time, Harry's own hands went under Draco's back and pulled him up into a sitting position, locking themselves behind Draco's body.
Draco Malfoy had never really kissed anyone before, but his body seemed to know exactly what to do. He twined his fingers with the hair at the base of Harry's neck as he pushed himself into the kiss more fully, his tongue swiping at Harry's bottom lip. Harry answered by opening his mouth and letting Draco's questioning tongue explore, melting it with his own short moments later. Draco could feel Harry's heart beating against him as they held tightly to each other, as if they were afraid to let go.
When the kiss ended, they still held onto one another.
"...Why?" Draco asked, fearing the answer but needing to know.
"I guess it's because I love you." Harry said, brushing Draco's hair from his eyes. "I think on some level I always have."
Draco's heart soared with those few words. "Thank-you then." He replied warmly.
"For what?"
Draco smiled and kissed Harry lightly. "For loving me."
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Author's Note:
AWWW! Isn't that just so cute! I just want to eat those two up! (coughs) Well... what did you think, am I getting good at this fluffy writing thang? I need feed back, no I CRAVE feed back. Please let me know what you thought about this wonderful fluffy little fic.
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