Beneath the Tree
Synopsis: Fluffy Slash—HP+DM. Post HBP omitting that Draco is in league with Voldemort. On the Grounds, by the Lake, two enemies reconcile…
Disclaimers: Gladly hands Malfoy back. I didn't know what crossed my mind…Alright! Alright! Slowly gives Harry up.
A/N: I've been inspired to write slash…I've read good stories of the said pairing and want to try it out myself. This is dedicated to a good friend of mine who really might appreciate this.
Through the window facing the Grounds, the boy with steel-grey eyes spotted the lone figure hunched against a tree, staring off into the lake. At first, he only smirked and turned away, but he found himself coming back to have his eyes rest on that figure. Much as he tried, he just couldn't get that boy out of his head. After all, the hatred he had nursed for him, the joy of seeing him punished, vanished in the summer after his sixth year. Draco Malfoy realized his sexual orientation. He was, gay. The enmity he held for Potter melted, to be replaced by a longing, a lust. But Potter would never have him; he rationalized, and smiled cruelly to himself, standing by that window, watching that boy, the boy who lived. And, with no rational though beforehand, he turned and exited the Common Room.
He heard boots crunching to a stop beside him, but he did not budge. A slight cough identified the owner of the boots. "What do you want Malfoy?" he sighed.
"Can't I just inquire about the wellbeing of a fellow student?" Draco's voice was mocking, but inside he cringed.
"Go away…ferret." The blonde boy winced at the nickname, but retreated a few steps nonetheless.
A silence descended, uneasy for Draco, but brooding for Harry. Taking a big sigh, he sat next to the raven-haired boy, taking in eyefuls of the unruly, jet black hair, the saturnine, yet nevertheless brilliant green eyes, framed with long lashes and a pair of glasses. His eyes lingered on his full lips, pulled down, but still beautiful. He looked down at his own pale skin and thin frame, compared to Harry's glowing, quidditch gained tan and muscular build. Delicious.
"What's wrong?" The silence fluttered to the ground.
"Why do you want to know?" Harry's voice was spiteful, filled with anger sparked by pain and anguish, swirled with a healthy measure of the usual hate.
"Potter—…Harry," here, the other boy started, hearing his name spring forth from his hated enemies lips, filled with…kindness? It caught him off guard, and he let go.
"I've lost my parents, my godfather, Dumbledore—the only man who could protect me. I've risen to be a savior, the whole wizarding world depending on me, I've made so many mistakes, have so many expectations given to me, and you ask me what's wrong! Tell me Malfoy, tell me why?" His last worlds reverberated around the grounds.
Storm-grey eyes sought the green, tear-filled, and they locked gaze. Slowly, hypnotically, Draco raised a white hand to brush away the tears coursing down the other boy's cheek. As he started to withdraw his hand, a sun-browned one caught and held it fast. "Please," Harry croaked. "Don't stop." Draco looked down, sadness, pity and love mixing in his gaze. He extracted his hand and brought both to each tanned cheek, stained with salt, leaned forward, and kissed that boy, full on lips. A kiss of an empty promise fulfilled. The receiver, stunned at first, recovered and sighed into Draco's lips. And there, beneath the tree, they kissed.
A/N: Yes! 'Tis very bad, but review anyway, pweese...for the beginner writer of slash...please! Sorry my friend.