Crossing the Line: by GiddyGirl15

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then in book six all of those situations in which Harry and Draco found themselves together and alone would have actually developed in the crazy, wild, kinky sex scenes they were destined to be. Unfortunately…

Warning: SLASH! YAY! Harry/Draco.

Author's Note: I'm back! I thought I'd make up for last chapter's delayed release and poor quality by giving you a really slashy, somewhat fluffy, and all around fun little chappie! I can't stress enough how wonderful it is to hear from all you fantastic reviewers. : hands out chocolate chip cookies : Anywho, I now present to you: my first ever flashback chapter! Enjoy!

Chapter Seven: De Ja Vu

: Flashback :

Harry sat in the nearly vacant common room, feverishly attempting to finish Snape's most recent form of torture in the form of an essay. He had gotten the assignment a week ago, but what with all the bothersome Draco-ness, he hadn't found the willpower to even pull out his quill and jot down anything. So, here he was, a day before the inhumanely long essay was due, and couldn't get his thoughts to focus on anything besides a certain blonde boy.

He set down his quill and sighed, rubbing his eyes. He'd just have to copy – er, I mean, look over and get some very vague and definitely not copyrighted ideas from Hermione's essay. Yeah. He glanced at the time and realized he still had about twenty minutes until the set time for the Order meeting. He packed up his quill and tauntingly empty parchment and headed down to the kitchen for a late-evening, early-bedtime, post-dinner, pre-midnight snack. He often went down to the kitchen after hours seeking nourishment, as Dobby and the other house elves were all too willing to give away spare biscuits and crumpets and such.

His stomach growled and he increased his speed, his mouth watering at the prospect of the freshly baked goods. He turned a corner rapidly and ran smack into – you guessed it…none other than the Slytherin Ice Queen, himself, Draco Malfoy. (I know, I know…)

"Potter!" said Draco sharply. "Watch where you're going!" He picked himself off the ground and sent a sneer at Harry.

"Right, sorry."

Draco simply rolled his eyes. Under normal circumstances, he would have uttered an angry retort or insulted Harry's family or something, but given his current pity-fest and the ever-growing (and more than a little disturbing) feelings for Harry, he left it to a simple "whatever," and made to walk off.

"Wait," Harry grabbed Draco's wrist.

Shit, this can't be good, thought Draco. He sighed. "What is it, Potter?" He did his best to keep his expression neutral and bored while purposefully refusing to acknowledge to jolt of electricity that coursed through his body from Harry's touch. He also made sure to ignore how Harry's emerald green eyes seemed to burn with such intensity that they almost bled into his own. But most of all, he completely disregarded the very un-Malfoy-ish leap of the heart that presented him with an intensely strong urge to sing and dance. Harry's voice brought him back to reality.

"It's just," Harry started, not even sure what he wanted. "I wanted to…er…thank you, I guess, for being civil to me and my friends. I…er, we…really appreciate it." Ugh, how lame was that! To his horror, he felt a blush begin to creep into his face. Always! This always happens! Oh shit, I hope he doesn't notice! However, the idea that Draco might notice his brightly colored cheeks caused them to turn an even deeper shade of red that would make a red hot chili pepper look pale. Draco raised an eyebrow. Oh fuck!

"Are you blushing, Potter?" Draco taunted him. Behind his smirk however, a very different emotion was taking hold. He was sure that if it had not been for his upbringing, a blush would have been dawning his own face. Could that mean…? Or is it just that he thought I might make it mean…? Or does he really…? Is he even…? Oh bloody hell.

"NO!" said Harry defiantly. "I just am, er, getting bloody pissed off at you! Yeah! But, um, I'm better now, and I just wanted to let you know, that if you ever need, um, someone to talk to or anything, I'm here. I guess I kinda pity you a little or something. I guess I sort of feel your pain…'cause I know what it's like not to have a mum and a dad, and I think I might know what your going through, and - "

"You have no idea what the bloody hell I'm going through, Potter!" Draco was suddenly furious. All the emotions that he had pent up inside him seemed to suddenly erupt. "You think you 'know what it's like'? You haven't the slightest clue what I've been dealing with. You…you never even knew your parents! Mine have been there my entire life…you have no idea what it's like to have them so suddenly ripped away from me. I feel lost and scared and completely alone. But you're Harry Potter. You don't know what it's like to be alone. You have friends who will gladly lend you a hand, help you out when you need them, say 'no worries, I've got your back', and you take it all for fucking granted," his voice got softer, his eyes filled with tears. "You take it for granted. You have no idea what it's like to be me, Potter. You don't even have a clue." He blinked back the tears and turned away, enraged at Harry for making him feel so terribly weak. Hurting, because his soul had just been cut open and its contents freely spilled. He wanted to cry. He wanted to weep for his pathetic waste of a life. He wanted someone to hold him and never let go – but he was a Malfoy. And Malfoys were cold, heartless beings that lived in sin and never looked back. They stood alone and didn't complain. And he was a Malfoy. And he could never change that. Never.

Now Harry was angry. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, that lashing out at Draco would do nothing to help his cause, but he couldn't help himself. All the injustice of his childhood that never was and the loss of Sirius, not to mention that horrible ridicule and slander he'd received from the Ministry, welled up inside him and came bursting out in another of his infamous tantrums. "You think you know everything, don't you!" Harry practically screamed. "You and the rest of the idiots in the Wizarding world have always thought that I had it oh-so great and dandy…I grew up with a family of the most fucking uptight, fun-sucking, abusive muggles you could ever imagine! I slept in a fucking cupboard and if I 'misbehaved', or made it so my hippopotamus of a cousin was in the least bit unhappy, I wouldn't eat for a week! I just lost the only semblance of a father I'd ever known, the fucking wizarding world thinks I'm like this immortal God that has come to free them from the fucking epitome of evil and they don't realize that I'm only human, and I have a bloody psychotic madman out to destroy me! I'm sorry you lost your parents and I'm sorry you had to live in a cave but you've got to pick up that pretty little head of yours and notice that your NOT the only one with problems!" Harry finished, seething. He knew he was overreacting and he knew that he should be sympathizing with Draco, not making him wrong, but his temper had gotten the better of him, as usual. Way to go, genius.

Somewhat humbled, Draco had taken to staring at his shoes…then something Harry had said clicked in his brain. "How did you know I stayed in a cave over the summer?" His eyes were suspicious. He hadn't failed to notice the recent absence of his private diary.

Harry suddenly looked very uncomfortable. "Er…I…Dumbledore told me," he said quickly, praying that Draco bought it.

" 'Dumbledore told you,'" Draco repeated. "And why would he tell you such a thing, might I ask?" He bit back a smirk as Harry glanced around, acting very fidgety.

"Er…I…er…um…that's just…I…he…" Harry stuttered.

"Potter," Draco stepped forward, now unable to hold back the smirk. "I don't think you're telling me the truth here," he taunted, "I mean, while Dumbledork is a righteous pain in my ass, he is known to keep his word, and he promised me he wouldn't tell anyone. Now, there's only one way you could have found that out…I've been missing a certain item of mine lately, and I think that maybe, just maybe, you might have found it?"

"…maybe…" Harry was backing down slightly. There was just something about that Slytherin drawl that just made you tell the truth.

"So you admit that you stole my diary," Draco started, slightly incredulous, "and then you read my diary? Is that right?" He forced calm into his voice.

"Er…it might be," said Harry sheepishly. Draco was getting pissed.

"That's low, Potter. Even for you," Draco didn't feel like getting into another row with Harry, so he figured he'd just curse him next chance he got. He started to walk away again.

Harry stepped in front of him.

"So maybe I did read your diary, Malfoy, but at least now someone knows the pain and suffering you've gone through! I can help you! No one, not even a slimy git like yourself, deserves to have their life chewed up and spit back out like that…you can't go through it alone." Harry prayed that Draco understood what he was trying to say.

"Wow," he said, almost laughing, "so the St. Potter finally shows his true colors. Look, contrary to popular belief, I am not an emotionally unstable, pansy Gryffindor that needs someone to mop up my tears. And no, I bloody well do not need your help. We're enemies, remember?" He tried to sidestep Harry.

"Nice try," said Harry, blocking Draco's way, "but I know what it's like to fall and try to lick your own wounds. It's a hell of a lot easier to have someone do it for you. Figuratively speaking of course,"

"Right," said Draco, restraining an eye roll, "well when I need someone to come lick my wounds, I'll give you a call." He successfully stepped around Harry and began to walk off, willing himself not to turn around. Don't do it, Draco. You know that nothing good could ever come from this…no matter how tempting that licking metaphor sounded…be a Malfoy, Draco…be strong…be cold…malicious…stand alone, like you were born to do – but what if I don't want to? Draco questioned himself. What if I'd like Harry to lick my wounds, and maybe a couple other places while he's at it? He grinned. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have a friend. To trust someone, to love someone. To be all sentimental once in awhile. It couldn't hurt…

He turned around.

Harry was scowling at his shoes. What had he been thinking? Poison toadstools never changed their spots, which meant that Draco would always be the cold, heartless asshole that he was born to be. But he was hurting. Anyone could see that. And Harry would be damned if he was going to let one more innocent person fall victim to Lord Voldemort. Okay, so maybe Draco Malfoy wasn't entirely 'innocent' in all matter of speaking, but he certainly was the victim here. Besides, he had really nice hair.

Harry looked up to find Draco coming back down the hallway towards him. He decided to cut him off before he could utter whatever Dark curse he had up his sleeve. "Look, Draco, just listen for a second, okay? I'm just trying to help and, frankly, you are not being very grateful! I think you should be happy that I'm even making an effort here. Because you're right…we are enemies, and you have been nothing but horrible to me ever since we met. But at least I'm willing to put that behind me and - "

" – oh give me a break!" Draco said, exasperated. "You are just jumping at the chance to be the hero…dammit, Harry, you don't even give a shit what I'm going through! It just kills you to see that someone isn't happy because of you! Just leave me alone if you know what's good for you." All of his previous resolution had dissipated with Harry's little speech – he actually blamed him for their animosity toward each other! Harry was the one who refused Draco's friendship in the first place. Ha! His fault indeed.

Harry let out an aggravated growl. "You are so infuriating sometimes!"

"I could say the same, you bloody wanker!"

They just stood there, as eternity seemed to stretch out before them, seething. Their thoughts echoed each other: Why can't I just make him understand!

Oh well done, Harry. Brilliant. Look at that hurt in his eyes…you did that. He's right, you are a bloody wanker. Harry sighed. Why did his temper always have to get the better of him? Why? He stared into Draco's masked eyes. The twin blue-gray orbs held so many emotions; fear, sadness, confusion, hate, and…something else. Completely unidentifiable. Harry could feel it too. Draco's pink lips trembled slightly, his blonde hair all tousled about his face, his perfect skin barely stretched across his magnificent cheek bones. Then Harry did something he would've never done had he been in his right mind. Without even a passing thought, he leaned in and touched his lips to Draco's. Softly at first, then gradually picking up intensity as he realized Draco wasn't going to push him away. He grabbed Draco's cheeks and leaned in, deepening the kiss, elated in a moment of pure joy. He suddenly realized that Draco was kissing him back. Everything seemed so surreal…he wanted it to last forever. The feeling of Draco's warm lips against his own, the tentative hands becoming entwined in his messy black hair. Draco's baby-soft skin against his own hands –

: End Flashback :

A/N: Squee! Slash! Omgsh, I loved writing this chapter! I really hope I didn't ramble too horribly. Sorry about the slight delay…school has officially started back up again. Ugh. So, unfortunately, updates are probably going to be coming on more of a biweekly schedule. Sorry! Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this flashback chapter…tune in next week to find out what dear little Hermione does with this new revelation! ;) Review!