Oh! Also, this fic, and the ones that will follow (there's a sequel written, a prequel underway!) should not be read unless the fifth Harry book has been read. Then, the following fics shouldn't be read without this one being read first. This is their 6th year. Sorry, I forgot to mention it before!
Chappy 2 Midnight secretsWhat had just happened? They had kissed. They had made out in the shower room. What was it supposed to mean, and what had made Harry kiss back? How could Draco face his friends? Stupid as they were, even they could read his face and know something was up. He lay awake the next morning. That was all he had done. He couldn't sleep; all he could do was lay there and think about Harry, think about the shower, think about his—towel. How could he have a crush on a guy? He was a guy! And of all the people, Harry Potter! They'd been enemies for as long as they'd known each other. But he did have a certain cuteness to him. More of a rugged seriousness that made him (okay, let's face it,) sexy. He got up. He had class in an hour. Might as well face the music. Draco dressed quickly and drudged down to breakfast, knowing that Harry would be there. "This is going to be awkward," he thought as one of his best friends, Goyle, snorted in his sleep across the room. Goyle and Crabbe would be up in five minutes, max, never failing to miss a meal.
Harry poked at a sausage. He was tired beyond belief. No sleep all night. He just couldn't get that kiss out of his head! It was the best kiss he'd ever had (not considering that he'd only had one wet kiss with Cho Chang.) how could he feel this for a guy! Draco's hand's playing across his skin, his tongue dancing in his mouth, and his wet, slippery body pressing against his…
"Harry!" Ron interrupted.
"Huh?" Harry looked up, startled.
"What's wrong? You're all moody and distant." Ron asked. Harry's eyes traveled across the room, watching Malfoy as he took his seat at the Slytherin table. Ron turned to see what had caught his attention.
"Is it Malfoy?"
"No! UhI mean, no, nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Just tired." He looked back down at his untouched food, embarrassed. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.
"Well, uh, you've got that Quiditch match on Friday. Against Slytherin. Are you ready to kick some ass?" Hermione asked in an attempt to cheer him up. If thinking about bashing Slytherins in Quiditch couldn't cheer him, nothing could.
"Mmmhmfugsmmmhm" he mumbled. A bell rang.
"Ugh. Double potions." Ron grumbled. They picked up their school bags and slung them over their shoulders. Harry felt like screaming. The three fought through the slowly thinning crowd to the dungeons for potions.
"Today isugh—love potions." Snape snarled at the class. Love potions were clearly not his favorite.
"This potion basically tells your deepest secret. A person merely has to look into the potion. A heart made of the potions mist will float up and then disappear after a few seconds if the looker is in love. Another heart will join it if they are loved back. A useless potion if you ask me. Now, copy the ingredients!"
"Aww, love potions!" Hermione cooed. Harry was worried. This was going to tell all. If anything were going on, now would be the deciding moment. Everyone busied themselves with their potions, and each cauldron's contents turned pink. Harry hated pink.
Then, across the room, a thin, pink vapor rose from Malfoy's cauldron. It formed a heart above his head. A second heart followed, and joined it. They hovered there for a moment, and then disappeared.
Malfoy's face turned redder than Ron's hair. Everyone was gigging and asking about who it could possibly be. No one would even expect the truth. When the class had settled down and other hearts were appearing around the room, Draco threw a glance at Harry. He was leaned over his potion, obviously nervous, waiting for a reaction. He looked up for a moment, straight into Draco's eyes.
Then, a heart emerged from the potion and floated over his head, and another behind it. It was his turn to be embarrassed, people twittering around the room, his friends taunting.
"Oh really Harry? I never knew!" Hermione called.
"Go Harry, Lady Killer!" Ron thumped him on the back. "Anyone we know?"
"Uh, no…" Harry's voice was small.
There was no doubt about it; there was definitely feelings between the two. They didn't know how, or why, but they were there. On the way out of the classroom, they fell even, shoulder to shoulder. Both glanced at each other, and neither noticed the books in the hall. They simultaneously tripped, yelling out and landing in a heap on the floor. Snape stepped from the classroom.
"Fighting are we? Detention, both of you. Trophy room at midnight." They looked at each other. Detention with Malfoy!
"See you there." Harry muttered, pulling himself to his feet. He ambled off, thinking of what lie ahead.
"I can't believe Snape gave you a detention! You tripped! And Malfoy probably planned it all." Ron raged in the Gryffindor common room.
"No, it wasn't Dra—uh—Malfoy's fault. We really just tripped." Why was Harry defending him?
"Why have you been acting so weird lately? Has it got to do with Malfoy?" Ron questioned.
"No! —Uh, I don't know. I haven't been acting weird."
"Harry, we know when something's wrong. I'll bet it's got to do with being in love!" Hermione spoke up.
"It's nothing, just help me with this transfigurations essay." He changed the subject.
They passed the time until midnight doing homework in front of the fire.
"11:"55, Harry, might as well go." Hermione informed him, closing her book and stretching. He reluctantly said his goodbyes and set off. He was so nervous. What was going to happen? He finally understood the meaning of having butterflies in your stomach.
He reached the trophy room. It was dark, as usual, for Peeves always stole the candles. He pushed open the door and found only Malfoy, lighting some of the spare candles that had been hidden from peeves.
"Where's Snape?" Harry called out in a shaky voice. Draco turned, startled. He took a deep breath.
"He left a note saying he couldn't make it. Dumbledor needs him to help with a potion." He handed Harry the note. Harry gazed at Draco. He looked at his soft blonde hair with bits hanging around his face. His blue eyes dancing in the candle light, also confused and scared, but reassuring. Harry's own eyes traveled across his neck, his strong shoulders and arms, his hands, his lean frame and athletic legs. Harry noticed the way he stood, confident and sure. And suddenly they were moving closer and closer, until Harry could count every lash above his eyes. He could smell Draco's breath sweet and warm, and almost taste his tongue, tangy and playful. His lips, cherry red, and warm as Harry's own pressed against them, soft and firm. The kiss was intense, and passion flowed between them, sending sparks through his body.
The temperature seemed to rise as their tongues intertwined, lips locked. Harry's hand was on Draco's neck, the other shyly exploring his waistline, pushing aside his robes and safely saying, going were no man had gone before. Draco's hands slipped over Harry's shoulders and pushed his school robe off. Harrry, without knowing why, let it drop.
Now Draco's hands were untucking Harry's shirt, pushing it up. He let him remove it, let his hands play over his chest and down his stomach to his fly. There was a moment of hesitation. This was all so new to both of them, neither knew if they wanted to proceed, and if so, they didn't know what to do. There hadn't actually been any exchange of words. Harry knew, and Draco as well, that if they proceeded they could never go back; they would both have to face the change. Their lips pressed together once more and the passion again rose. Harry leaned in with an encouraging moan. Draco's hands continued, and Harry's pants and boxers dropped to the floor. He suddenly felt very exposed and he didn't care. He was living for the moment, for the thrill and excitement of this so-called God-shaming pursuit. It just felt so risqué and so sensual. He felt he was understood. Loved…wanted…
Draco's skin was warm and soft against his; Draco was being undressed by an eager Harry, an exploring Harry. Hands and lips wandered. Parts of them that never been exposed to prying eyes were now caressed and explored by the unthinkable…
The candlelight was dieing low as Harry and Draco lay on the floor, entwined in the clothes they'd shed an hour ago. Caresses had grown long and passionate, sweet and tender. Slowly heating up again, the two each silently contemplated the possibilities of what lay ahead. The new carefree Harry didn't mind, he just wanted to feel like this forever. This closeness made him feel a resolve like never before. This rush of emotion was making him do things he never thought possible.
Draco was moving behind him, shaking slightly, unbelieving that he was even thinking of doing what he was about to do. He waited for some sort of signal that it was okay. When Harry didn't protest, Draco continued. There was a moment when both drew in a sharp breath, shuddering slightly, easing into this intimacy. They went slow at first, awkward and undecided. Then, they caught the hang of it, easing into a rhythmic pattern, a dance of their own, moving to their own beat. Heartbeats. Their hearts beat as one, rapidly increasing as did their tempo as they went steadily faster and faster, experiencing pain and ecstasy like never before.
Finally, Draco peaked and gave one final stroke before pulling out. Houston, we have landed. He lay next to Harry on the clothes and slowed his breathing, wiping his sweaty brow. Harry lay tenderly on his back, ignoring the pain and only concentrating on the pleasure running through him. Each lay in the last remnants of light, not speaking, until Harry broke the silence.
"M—Draco? What's happening between us?" he asked hesitantly.
"I'm not sure. I don't know what to make of…of everything." Draco responded.
"Well, it's definitely something. You know as well as I that you can't just ignore…that." Harry was becoming uneasy.
"Okay, Harry, I want to see you again, I'll just come right out and say it. But secretly, because our friends would go nuts. I mean, uh, if you want to see me, that is." He went from headstrong to uneasy, as did Harry. Harry sat up.
"Yes I do, amazingly," he scoffed, "but I think we should take it slow. I mean, yesterday we hated each other's guts. Today we're…uh, well, you were there." Harry hinted.
They worked out a plan to meet at the Hogs Head on the next Hogs mead trip on Saturday, in three days.
"Oh, hey, we have that Quiditch game tomorrow. We're gona smash you!" Harry joked, punching him playfully in the ribs.
"Not if we murder you first!" Draco tried to grab him but Harry dashed off, running to the other side of the trophy room. Draco caught him, tackling him to the floor, pecking him quickly on the lips smiling, before letting him up and each returning to their own dormitories.
A/N: Well, the second chappy is on! I'm really lovin' the relationship that's budding here, don't know about you readers. But I would like to know how you feel, thoughts and opinions. Random comments. Anything. LoL, so R&R please! Or I'll type the next chappy completely in French, LoL! Tres embetant, n'est pas?