Special Thanks To: FF Reviewers: Caiden, Rabid vampire werewolf fangirl, lloneke, Faded Glitter, chibixholic, DW Fanatic, PlzNsertSN, Kairi099, threadsofregret, myniephonenix, and Viper-Vegeta!
HP Fandom Reviewers: Aurora Enkeli Medeis, antipyro, tesaswithadollarsign, ciaran draco, Shuga34, and Kittyfinn!
Disclaimer/Warning: 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. This is slash - male x male relationships. It also contains femmeslash - female x female relationships. If this offends you or doesn't suit your fancy in any way, then do not read below this warning and the future chapters. The concept is quite simple, and a bad review on this particular topic will only make you look like an ass. Thanks!
Author's Note: Um, about the beta-ing thing, I actually have a close friend who volunteered to look over my chapters for me if I need it, but thank all of you who offered! Here's chapter three - Enjoy!
Chapter Three - The Unexpected Meeting in the Legendary Honeydukes
The rest of Saturday morning found Harry Potter lying in his bed with the curtains closed, staring unseeingly at the canopy above it. His thoughts were wrapped around Late Night Stroll, the dreaded piece of erotica portraying some of his deepest fantasies. Since reading it earlier in the morning, his mind couldn't grasp anything else. Ron's parting words - "You just need to get shagged, mate." - only made the obsession with the sheet worse, and the truth behind the statement bothered him a lot more than he was willing to admit. What was he waiting for? Of course his being the Boy-Who-Defeated-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could get him any girl - or any guy for that matter - he wanted within hours, minutes, seconds… all it took was one letter to the person of his choice and they would floo to his dorm and just strip.
Gods knew he was a sexually frustrated seventeen-year-old boy who was…
A virgin.
Even Seamus had offered to shag nine or ten times.
Why couldn't he just…do it?
Aww...! You're saving yourself for Malfoy! How disgustingly Hufflepuff of you!
"Oh no…"
Oh yes…did you really believe that I would disappear for good? Merlin knows I wouldn't mind; I utterly detest your Gryffindor friends.
"Then sod off!"
Repeat after me: I am you, you are me. Where you go, I go…"Grrr, unbelievable!"
Did you just growl at me? The fuck kinda noise of frustration is that?Harry flipped on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow, once again trying not to give into the urge of breathing. He suddenly felt like crying.
Write…that will make you feel better.
Harry propped himself up on his elbows. "That's the best suggestion you have ever given me."
Well, it'll be an even better suggestion when I add 'write more about Draco.'
Harry decided to ignore the last part and almost against his will, his hand drifted towards the stack of blank parchment beside his bed, the Slytherin green ink, and his writing quill. He found himself thinking about Late Night Stroll, and because of his masochistic tendencies, he began writing a complementary piece in rapid succession.
Early Morning Run
The air was crisp.
Crisp, cool, unrelenting in its breeze - it was the way he liked it for his morning run. His troubles came and parted with the fickle wind, and he found himself more at peace in the brutal wind than in the calmness of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was given the opportunity to let the Ultimate Bastard mask drop, and he relished every second of the exposure.
Blasting his Muggle CD player, which no one knew he had save Blaise, Draco Malfoy closed his eyes as his favorite Muggle band, Coldplay, blocked out the surrounding sounds of nature. He was listening to his favorite song: Green Eyes. The words came with practiced familiarity, and quickly scanning the area to ensure he was alone, he let the lyrics pour from candy pink lips, silver eyes closed to the world as he sang.
But he wasn't alone.
Unbeknownst to him, a figure watched from above, raven hair tousled from the wind's constant change of direction. Green eyes widened almost comically so as the running boy adjusted his Muggle headphones, and lips parted to release a gasp as he heard the lyrics drift through the air. He recognized the song, but what got him the most was the call of--
"Harry…"
Draco opened his eyes as the song ended, face scrunching up in a disbelieving frown. He had made his feelings real; he had said the name that had been pounded through his mind for the last year aloud, and with such emotion. He guessed there was no turning back now.
Especially since said person who haunted his dreams and every waking moment landed with a soft thud in front of him.
Shocked emerald green meet shocked silver, and when shaken out of his stupor, Draco shut the CD player off as the phrase 'green eyes' drifted off into the background. He opened his mouth to speak, but for the first time since he'd attending Hogwarts and faced off against the Boy-Who-Lived, he was speechless. What was he to say? He had been using a Muggle device, listening to Muggle music, singingsaid music, and whispering the boy's name aloud.
With love.
Speechless indeed.
Harry, on the other hand, had plenty of things to say, questions to ask. But they were coming at him with such rapidity and in such a confusing jumble, he couldn't decipher which questions to ask, let alone what comments to say. All the preconceived notions he had about Draco Malfoy were stripped from him within seconds, and he was at a lost on what to do. Maybe he should give into the impulse to fall towards the other, wrap him in his arms, kiss those delicious lips…maybe that was what he needed to do. For the both of them.
So he did.
Taking a giant step forward and dropping his Firebolt, Harry ignored the surprised gasp from Draco and pressed his lips to the other boy's, arms swung tightly around his neck.
That was the catalyst.
Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist just as tightly, kissed him with just as much fervor, and explored his body with wandering hands just as Harry was doing. Words were meaningless here; the union transpiring was laced with so much fragility that words would only serve to break it - shatter it so that it would no longer be able to be put together. There was only one phrase that could describe it:
It. Was. Right.
In every sense of the word.
The kiss broke from the need of oxygen, but immediately joined again with more fervor than the last. Draco hooked his leg around Harry's calf and brought the two tumbling to the ground. Rolling so that he topped, Draco tore at Harry's robes with shaky fingers, all the while keeping his lips attached to those of Harry's.
"Harry?"
Harry just gave in; he knew that the Slytherin needed that power, that control that came with being dominant. The Slytherins had so many things spiraling out of control this year that it was a wonder they lasted this long.
"Mate?"
Draco was at his navel now, plunging into it wildly as he rocked his hips against Harry's legs. Feeling the burgeoning erection pressed against his leg caused Harry to moan Draco's name loudly, unashamed and unrepentantly, and twine his fingers into Draco's long white gold locks. He could feel the pressure at the pit of his stomach, the tightening of his muscles--
"HARRY!"
The curtain was ripped open to reveal a flustered Hermione and a disgruntled Ron. Harry stopped writing immediately and clutched the two sheets of parchment to his chest like a protective mother over her child. "What?" he snapped, breathing as if he had run a marathon.
Ron glared at him for his rudeness while Hermione brushed it off. "Don't you remember? It's Hogsmeade weekend! The twins' birthday is in a couple of weeks so we wanted to get them something now. Are you coming?"
With an ill-veiled sigh, Harry eyed Hermione and Ron with annoyance as he turned to stack up the blank sheets of parchment and cap the inkpot. "Alright, I'll...be ready in a few. Meet me in the Entrance Hall, and we'll walk together, ok?"
The two nodded briefly as they stood there watching Harry pack up. Sensing their eyes on him, Harry added, "and no, I'm not going to let you read what I was writing."
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione breathed out as she stomped out the room. Ron was close behind her, a scowl adorning his features, and with a slam of the door, Harry was finally alone.
Instantly he was back on the bed, trembling as he read over Early Morning Run again and again. It was by far the most emotional piece he had written that actually included he himself, and he found that he wanted this scene to happen more than ever. Taking out Late Night Stroll - which he kept under Early Morning Run - he skimmed over its contents once more before taking a deep, shaky breath, locking it into his trunk, and heading to the bathroom to take a quick cold shower.
---
As he said he would, Harry met the rest of the Golden Trio in the Entrance Hall. An evergreen fall cloak was draped across his shoulders, slightly covering tight black jeans and a button down evergreen shirt to match the cloak. For some reason, he felt compelled to dress extra nicely, just in case he ran into someone special.
He had to keep telling himself that he did not dress extra special for Malfoy, no matter what the voice in his head - his Inner Slytherin - said.
He also had to keep telling himself that the only reason why he stuffed Late Night Stroll and Early Morning Run into his cloak pocket was for research purposes - inspiration for more Heath/David short stories if you will.
He sighed.
He truly was a pitiful, little sod.
"Ron, Hermione."
While Hermione cast him a stiff glare and went off with her head held high, Ron eyed him in exasperation before catching up with Hermione and falling into step beside her. The two began to whisper ferociously then, but Harry didn't care too much because he was lost in his jumbled thoughts.
While Late Night Stroll had been a representation of the physical aspect of the relationship, Early Morning Run had stayed true to being its complement; it had definitely been the representation of the emotional aspect of the relationship. Looking back on how he wrote each piece, he realized many things – for one, Late Night Stroll – being the physical representation that it is – portrayed Draco making the first move, allowing the two of them to delve into the physical desire emitting between the two. EMR, however, portrayed Harry making the first move, allowing them to accept and recognize that something more was there.
It was amazing and terrifying.
He hadn't even realized he wrote the two pieces this way, let alone create the startling symbolism behind them.
But.
Since he had, even unconsciously doing so, was it an indication that he should take to heart? A sign from Fate that would lead him in the right direction of fulfilling destiny?
Or was it just wishful thinking to the extreme, something as real as visions of death and destruction from soggy tealeaves?
"Harry!"
He didn't know, and his best friends wouldn't leave him the fuck alone long enough for him to find out.
"Harry, c'mon we have to hurry!"
"O-ok…"
Harry didn't quite know where he was hurrying to since he was lost in his thoughts for the entire way to Hogsmeade, but a quick yank into a tightly packed place full of jostling third and fourth years immediately notified him that he was in Honeydukes. The place was well stocked as always, filled to the brim with Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, and Every Flavor Beans. He almost felt like the third years here when entering; the place – with its excitement, shouts of glee, and mini brawls over candy – made him feel like bouncing on his heels and grabbing at every open piece of candy.
A delighted smile adorned his features when he spotted his new obsession – besides Draco Malfoy of course – and weaving through the crowd with practiced grace, he arrived at the jug of Gasmati Gumballs, little tiny honey-covered gumballs with an explosion of cinnamon-sugar in its center. Three-fourths of the gallon jug was already emptied, much to Harry's dismay. Usually half would suffice until the next Hogsmeade Weekend, but seeing as there was only a quarter left, Harry reached for the handle of the jug—
—to brush against the soft, silky smooth skin of Draco Malfoy.
The touch was electric; it felt as if he had stuck his hand in water, then touched an open Muggle outlet, only without the pain. It shocked him to the very core so much so that he jerked as if burned and crashed into a group of Slytherin third years who sneered at him and stared dreamily at Draco. Nevertheless, he didn't notice, simply because he couldn't take his eyes off of the god who was Draco.
He wore all black – skin-tight leather trousers that clung sinfully to his powerful legs and delectable ass with a silk button down shirt open at the collar to reveal a long strip of toned pale flesh. The black was of the purest form, giving him an otherworldly look that had presence and commanded attention. His white golden locks were a stark contrast against the black as they rested confined upon his shoulder by a matching ribbon. And on top of all that: his eyes.
Gorgeous, amazing, wonderful, marvelous, fascinating, and all of the other cliché words to describe those silver depths that made him fall hard for Draco.
He realized with a start that he didn't do Draco's eyes justice when describing them in his pieces. He just put 'gray,' maybe 'silver' a few times, but his eyes…no…they were so much more than just 'silver.'
And they were scanning his form with the barest hint of desire in their depths.
"Potter," the god stated coolly, his rich tenor – just shy of baritone – taut with huskiness.
Was it possible to be hit with an amazing orgasm just from having your name called?
"Mal—" Harry cleared his throat. "Malfoy."
The two of them stared at each other a bit longer before Harry let out a nervous chuckle and turned to eye the Gasmati Gumballs sitting innocently between them. "Aren't these good?" he asked while rubbing the back of his head. "I swear to Merlin they're addictive."
Feeling Draco's eyes still pinned on his form, Harry looked up to meet his gaze once more before adding with a sheepish smile, "at least I think so."
He saw Draco's eyes widened almost imperceptibly from the smile directed his way and decided right then and there that surprising Draco Malfoy was something he had to do more often. But he decided to scratch that thought when Draco returned the favor with a cute upturn of the corners of his mouth - a small, but impish smile of his own.
Harry felt his heart trip, roll, and tumble some place out of his body just then.
"I can't live without having at least a third of this jug between Hogsmeade weekends," Draco commented amicably, "and I usually bite the person who tries to deplete my supply. But—"
With a Snitch-quick grab and a flick of his wand, Draco cradled the large jug in his hands and poured half of the contents of the jug into an emerald velvet bag. He shook the jug once to confirm he had been even with the measurements, handing a dazed Harry the bag. "—I guess we'll just have to share."
Then he was gone, but not without a parting smirk that left Harry oxygen-deprived.
"Harry, mate?"
Ron appeared in his line of vision – seeing as he couldn't breathe, let alone move – and cast him a slightly worried look at the lack of response from his best friend. Apparently, he hadn't seen Draco. "Hey, where'd you get the bag from?"
The question shook Harry from his stupor, and with speed he had no clue he possessed, he pushed through the crowd to the counter, paid, and ran back to the school with one thought in mind.
I have to write!
---
To Be Continued…
Remember: leave your email if you want to be on the mailing list! This is the last reminder!
-MercuryGoddess-