A/N: Not many notes here… just that here's the next update. And thanks so much to all you who reviewed! You guys are awesome! -lovelovelove-
A/N 2: OhEmGee! Didn't you all love the Harry/Draco-ness in the HBP? I know I did. It sorta explains the lateness of this update.
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Harry didn't look back once, just searching for Draco. He paused when he came to a fork in the hallway, unsure of where the blonde Slytherin may have gone. Then he heard it; muffled sobs down the corridor to his left, and he walked slowly towards the heart of the sound.
"Draco?" he asked lightly, trying to locate where the boy was.
Then he saw the Slytherin boy half crouched, half collapsed on the cold floor, hiding beside a statue of some wizard. Upon his pale cheeks, there were wet streaks, his steel eyes misty with tears.
"What do you want, Potter?" Draco attempted to sneer, but failed terribly due to the fact that he was just crying.
You. He couldn't say it. "Why are you crying?"
"I'm not, Potter. Malfoys do not cry."
Obviously, very much so, he was lying. "Why are you crying?" he simply repeated.
"If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you," replied Draco.
"Well that's mature," Harry rolled his eyes. "What's next? I am rubber, you are glue?"
Harry had meant it to be a little bit of a joke, but Draco just glared. "Fuck you, Potter. It's none of your business anyway."
"Are you sure?" Harry asked, in slight whisper.
Draco looked like he was going to say something, but abruptly changed his mind. "Why would I not be?" he asked back, voice wavering.
Harry sighed. "Look, Draco. I know that we have had our differences in the past," big understatement there, "but…" he trailed off, not really knowing where he wanted to go with it.
"But what?" Draco looked up, his silvery orbs wet with tears.
"I don't know."
Draco sighed, furiously wiping his tears, and got up off the ground. "Well let me know when you do," Draco only partly snarled because he was partly telling the truth.
With that, Draco fled, to where Harry didn't know. Though if he had stopped to listen, he might have heard the raven-haired Gryffindor whispering, "I will. I do," his own emerald eyes flooding with tears.
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Draco tore through the school until he got to his room. Once inside, he fell onto his bed, another wave of tears coming. Damn Potter.
Draco stayed curled up in his bed before he realised how ridiculous he was being, and got up. Checking his watch, he determined that it was dinnertime, but instead grabbed his quidditch robes and his Firebolt (he would not let Harry upstage him, and got it in his sixth year) and headed towards the quidditch pitch.
"Bloody Potter," he muttered to himself once he had successfully made it to the pitch without running into any other student. He mounted his broom and kicked off hard, soaring toward nowhere in particular. Even on his broom, his adrenaline rushing, racing the pitch, Draco felt miserable. He just wanted to be wit Harry, was that really so much to ask?
Why couldn't I have fallen head over heals with someone I have a chance with; someone from Slytherin? Draco knew the answer to that, though. First of all, the only real decent looking person in his year was Blaise, and was a real bugger. Secondly, there was something about Harry. They had 'hated' each other since day one at Hogwarts, and there really was a fine line between love and hate. They were both obsessions, really, and both involved many, many emotions.
Which, when you thought of it, was kind of ironic for the Malfoys. Here was Draco's father, as well as other death eaters, saying that to love was to have and show emotions, and was a deadly weakness. But why did they feel it was alright to hate?
Draco would never understand the way the minds of dark wizards worked, at least not that well. Which reminded him, he was supposed to take the Dark Mark sometime after the year, if not during. The thought both sickened and frightened Draco to no-ends. He would certainly have to go to Dumbledore sometime about it, but was just procrastinating about it.
As thoughts of his upcoming fate, as well as Harry swam through his mind, he didn't notice the sun setting until it was dark. He checked his watch and sure enough it was just after curfew. How long had he been out there? Hours, at least. It was roughly around dinnertime that he had come outside to fly his emotions away.
Sighing, he flew down towards the field, and headed towards the Slytherin change rooms. He didn't care if he was caught out this late- Draco needed a shower.
He carefully placed his Firebolt on the floor, before stripping out of his clothes. Grabbing a green town, with his name written in silver just below the Slytherin symbol, he trudged towards the farthest shower stall and went in.
Immediately, Draco turned the water to hot, which was a stupid, or brilliant (depends on how you look at it) idea, as he was starting to get hard. The blonde didn't even try to stop himself, before his hands found his familiar, hardening flesh.
His thoughts were back on Harry. Draco closed his eyes, leaning slightly against the stall wall. His grip tightened and he imagined his was inside Harry, thrusting himself into the Gryffindor. Hard. He could see it all in his mind. Face to face, looking deeply into one another's eyes, panting, sweating, kissing, touching. It didn't take long for Draco to come, arching his back against the cold wall as he half moaned half whispered the name of a certain Gryffindor boy, with gorgeous raven hair and incredibly green eyes.
After that, Draco washed and rinsed himself off thoroughly, before turning off the taps. He froze when he heard footsteps, but when he peered out of the stall, no one could be found. Draco shrugged it off; walking out of the shower stall with is towel loosely around his waist. Taking the towel away from his waist (there was a noise that sounded almost like someone's breath catching, which he waved off again), Draco pulled on his clothes. After muttering a quick drying spell on his hair, he checked his appearance in the mirror. He discovered that he was quick flushed in the face, but he didn't care- it's not like many students were out at this time of night.
With that he sneaked back into the castle and then down to the cold and lonely dungeons.
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Morning came all too early for Harry. He groaned when the rays of light peaked through his hangings.
"Come on, Harry. Wake up, mate," came the sound of his best friend's voice from behind his curtains.
"I'm up, I'm up," Harry yawned, opening his hangings. He opened his trunk, selecting his robes for the day.
They got dressed in silence, before heading down to the common room to meet Hermione. Ron greeted her with his usual 'good-morning kiss', and they headed towards the Great Hall.
"Harry," Hermione said at last. "Harry, where were you last night? You weren't in your bed. Please don't tell me you were doing something to yourself over the whole Draco thing yesterday." She looked at him with great concern.
"Yeah, mate, I noticed that too," Ron added.
"I wasn't cutting, if that's what you mean Hermione," he said darkly to her, knowing that that is precisely what she meant. "I, er, went for a walk. That's all." He paused, before realising something. "Hey! How would you know that I wasn't in my bed until late last night, Hermione?" He asked her accusingly.
Harry noticed both her and Ron's flushed and embarrassed faces, and knew immediately that he didn't want to know. "I- we- Ron- we-" Hermione stuttered.
"Come to think of it, I don't want to know." They both gave him thankful looks, before taking their seats. Harry's eyes shot up towards the Slytherin table, but did not stay long- Draco was not there yet.
Last night, after the Slytherin had failed to show up for dinner, Harry started to worry. So after he had excused himself from Ron and Hermione's presence, Harry ran upstairs to grab the marauder's map to check out where Draco was. He then grabbed his cloak and watched the Slytherin Prince fly around, before following him to showers. God, that was hot. Especially when he heard Draco say his name when he came. He almost came right there, but used all the will power he had to restrain himself and wait until he was in the safety of his bed. He didn't want Draco to think him to be a pathetic little perverse boy, who got off at watching people getting changed.
Damn, he was starting to get hard right there. But Harry couldn't go around the morning with a hard on. No way. Especially as he had potions with Draco today. Damn, no more thinking about that sexy blonde, or the way his arse looked when he walked, or bent over to dry his perfect legs, or the way his long, hard-
Damn! Think unsexy thoughts! Think unsexy thoughts! Harry repeated in his mind, settling for thinking about Dumbledore and McGonagall buck naked and doing the nasty. Well, that did it, as well as making him nearly vomit his entire breakfast.
Time for classes came all too soon, and the three of them were heading towards the Potions room. They were the first ones there, other than someone who was standing, no hiding, in the shadows. Harry had a pretty good idea of who it was.
Shortly after their arrival, a crowd of students bustled outside the door, until Snape opened the doors. Harry moved quickly into the room, and into a seat at the table where he and Draco worked. A guilty feeling swept over him when he saw the potion, made and ready.
When he felt Draco's presence beside him, he turned. "Look, Draco-"
"Potter," Draco cut him off, "no need to explain anything. Let's just get this over and done with, alright?"
Harry looked slightly putout. "Actually, I was going to thank you for finishing up our potion by yourself and apologise for not being here to help."
Oh. "It's nothing, Potter, really. T'was far easier without you here to bugger everything up," he smirked.
"Draco, why do you keep calling me 'Potter?' My name is Harry. Har-ry. You know, H-A-R-R-Y."
Draco hit him playfully, then realising what he had just done, looked away quickly. "Tell you what, Harry, since I brewed this, you drink it, alright?"
"Okay," Harry replied. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Snape was standing at the front, trying to get their attention.
"Now, I hope that everyone remembers what I said prior to this week. Good," he said, not waiting for a reply. "So, would you kindly decide which of you and your partner will be brave enough to sample the concoction you have been brewing since last week. I will call up, one by one, each partnership to mark the effects. Meanwhile, the rest of you can chat amongst yourselves. Quietly."
Snape's first marking was with Hermione and Pansy. "Now, who will be the tester?" At the same time, both girls said the other's name, to which Snape arched an eyebrow. "Now, now. Surely we can come to an agreement?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, I'll take it," said Hermione, realising there was no way Pansy Parkinson was going to cave.
"Very well," Snape replied, pulling out his quill, ready to mark. Hermione took a sip, nothing out-of-the-ordinary happening, and so the greasy haired potions master continued to ask her a few standard questions. "What is your full name?"
"Hermione Jane Granger."
"Have you ever stolen supplies from my ingredients cupboard?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
"To create the polyjuice potion for Harry, Ronald and myself to find out if Draco Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin."
Snape wrote something down on his parchment, before turning to Pansy. "You may ask one question, Miss Parkinson."
Nodding, Pansy turned to back to the bushy haired girl beside her. "How far have you and the Weasel gone, Granger?" Pansy smirked.
"Shagging," Hermione replied, blushing as she did so. She got up quickly and walked back to her desk.
"I didn't need that image in my head, Miss Parkinson," Snape told her, looking nauseated. "Oh, and Miss Granger?" the man called out, loud enough for the class to hear. "Ten points from Gryffindor for sleeping with Weasley," he sneered, causing the two to go quite red in the face.
As the other partners went up, Harry and Draco sat there in an uncomfortable silence, until Harry couldn't take it. "What are you planning on asking me, Draco?"
The blonde smirked at that. "Why Pot- er- Harry, that would be giving away the fun of surprise."
To this, Harry pouted, which Draco thought was incredibly sweet. However, Snape calling their names pulled them both out of their drifting thoughts. "Mr Malfoy, Potter. Who is going to be the tester?"
"I am, sir," replied Harry, taking the vial of their potion and swallowing in indicated amount.
"Now, what is your full name?"
"Harry James Potter, sir."
"Good. Have you ever stolen gillyweed from my ingredients cupboard?"
"No." This had Snape taken back a bit.
"No? Then how, pray tell, did you acquire it for the second task of the Tri-wizard tournament?"
"Dobby heard Crouch and McGonagal discussing the possibility of it in the staff room, and so he stole it. Without my knowledge, I might add."
Dobby? As in the filthy house-elf my family used to own? The one Potter lost from us? Interesting, thought Draco.
"Very well. Mr Malfoy, your question now."
Draco shook himself mentally, before asking his question. "What is your biggest and deepest secret?"
Biting his lip, Harry revealed something he didn't want let out. "I- I'm gay."
"That's it? Everyone has most likely guess that by now, Potter," sneered Draco, disappointed slightly.
"There's more. Over the two years I had known him, I fell inlove with my godfather, Sirius Black."
The room, which had gone silent upon hearing Harry outing himself, broke out in gasps and whispers about what they had just been witnesses to hear. Realising what he had just said, Harry grabbed his things and quite hastily sprinted out of the dungeons, not daring to look back.
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A/N: Thar you go, m'dears. Ever notice how most of my chappies end in someone generally Harry runs away? -Total cliché hog- xD Sorry for the lateness-ish… HBP just took up a lot of time. And be patient, Harry and Draco /will/ get together one of these chapters… actually, most likely the next one. And Thankies so much to my reviewers. -Happy- Love you guys! I write for you, so please review. Make me smile.