"Potter. Get out here."

Harry's head darted up sharply, and he glared at Malfoy from behind his thick black fringe. It was getting longer and shaggier by the day, was cut unevenly, and soaked through, as were his robes. He stood there with his arms crossed, lips pressed together tightly as he observed his … enemy? Rival? Friend? Who even knew anymore?

The rain had subsided now on this humid evening, but a few minutes ago, as the pair had stood together peacefully on the balcony, it had suddenly began to pour like a tropical rainforest. Harry had run inside, but now Malfoy was insisting that Harry come back out onto the balcony, so that they could continue their earlier conversation. All Harry wanted to do was change into some dry clothes.

Draco Malfoy turned his bleached blonde head to the side and pretended not to care as Harry eventually stepped forwards through the old wooden doors, out into the hot, clammy air of the quiet summer night.

"I am not talking about this now," Harry announced firmly. He noticed Malfoy bite down on his bottom lip, then look down at his shoes, and Harry knew he would have to now prepare himself for the onslaught that was sure to follow. Typical, really. They had barely been alone two minutes, and already they were arguing.

Malfoy flicked a string of blond from his face with a quick head movement, but didn't say anything. He gave a tiny sigh, then wrapped his arms tightly around himself, clinging to his identically soaking dark robes to his torso. That was typical Malfoy for you – totally over dramatic in everything.

Harry didn't really want to talk. There were other things he wouldn't have minded doing with Malfoy on this uncomfortably warm evening – but talking, no. He was through with talking. He ran a strong hand through his full black head of hair before beginning to walk slowly across the balcony, his socks and shoes squelching together humourously with every step. Reaching the Slytherin student, he then proceeded to casually flick the emblem on Malfoy's robes, and droplets of rain flew off the soggy material.

"Mmm," Harry mused in a barely a whisper, biting his lip before his face broke into a wide, cheeky grin. "I wonder what your Dad would say?"

Malfoy's eyes widened in both interest and surprise. Harry's face was so close that Draco could see the short, dark stubble that ran across his peachy-skinned jaw line; feel every tiny vibration that came from his mouth as he spoke in his (finally broken, after getting through the few awkward ages of early adolesence) deep, throaty voice. It was a voice that was always so instantly recognisable to Malfoy, a voice that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never get out of his head.

"If we don't talk about this now," Malfoy began slowly, looking down and pretending to be interested in the cuffs of his robes, "When are we going to talk about it?"

Harry sighed, moving away from Malfoy and instead leaning his heavy arms onto the balcony. He gazed out onto the view, paused for a moment to scratch an itch on the back of his neck, then let out a small, scoffing laugh.

"You know something, Malfoy?" he turned to look at the Slytherin student through his glistening green eyes. "You talk too much."

"Me?"

"You."

Malfoy was stood facing Harry sideways on. There was silence for a few seconds, the only sound being Malfoy's shoe tapping the floor in a gentle rhythm.

"And you lie," he said simply, before slowly turning his body to lean on the balcony and look out on the scenery as Harry did. Harry himself then made a great show of throwing his arms in the air and sighing heavily with exasperation.

"Look, that thing that happened with me and Ron-" he started carefully, holding a hand to his head, but Malfoy was now fully prepared for his outburst - and out it burst indeed.

"Yes, that thing! That thing that plagues my life, makes every treacherous day so much more difficult for me!" Malfoy's voice became higher as a huge lump rose into his throat. He curled one hand into a fist and beat his chest with it, gesturing to himself. "And everybody knows about it, Harry! Everybody knows."

Fighting fiercely to hold back tears, the Slytherin student clamped his teeth down onto his bottom lip again, and averted Harry's green-eyed gaze. Meanwhile, Harry was slouched with his elbows on the balcony and his whole head in his hands, clumps of black hair poking out between his fingers, trying not to listen. But he couldn't run away from it forever.

"People are going to want to know what happened with us last night, you know," Malfoy spat bitterly. "So, are you going to tell them about it? Are you going to strut around and boast, just like you did with him?"

"Don't be like that!" Harry snapped back, then his voice became quiet. "Look, I really don't want to talk about this now, okay? Not now."

Malfoy found himself lost for words. He was sure there had been a whole stream of nasty comments and acusing questions stored in his mind, ready to unleash on the Gryffindor student – but they had all gone. He didn't know what to say next. He didn't know what to do.

"Let's just go back inside, alright?" he muttered hopelessly, shrugging slightly. Feeling defeated, he turned on his heel, but had barely taken two steps forward before a strong hand reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Not yet," Harry pleaded, gently pulling the Slytherin back towards him, coaxing him in with the most handsome, begging facial expression he could muster.

It worked.

Malfoy slowly entered the grasp of the taller black-haired boy, who was now grinning quite broadly, and Malfoy couldn't help but go along with it, despite all of Harry's mistakes, his errors, his lies.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Malfoy wondered sadly, just as Harry pulled him closer, slipping a sneaking hand through Malfoy's open robes and placing a hand on the Slytherin's hip. With Harry gazing down fondly at him with those entrancing green eyes, his hand poised in the small of his back, Malfoy suddenly felt his robes begin to tighten just around the frontal trouser area.

Oh, yeah. That's why.

"So, getting back to my earlier question," Harry smiled, swaying himself and Malfoy gently as if dancing to slow music, although there was none, "What do you think your Dad would say?"

Malfoy laughed. "God, who knows? What would Dumbledore say?"

"Ha, ha."

Harry slipped his arm further into Malfoy's robes and was now clutching the young boy around his slim waist, pulling him ever closer. Wetting his lips and taking in a small breath, Harry threw his gaze up to the sky before he spoke again.

"He'd probably say," he began quietly, before putting on his best impression of Professor Dumbledore, "'Boys, how could you! Don't you know that's breaking school rule number 246?'"

Malfoy laughed again, and was now very close to resting his head on Harry's broad chest. Eventually he gave into the temptation, leaning his soft cheek onto Harry's slightly itchy, and more than a little damp, grey pullover, while clutching at the dark outer robes with both hands. Harry continued to gaze down on his shorter companion, admiring how his heavy wet robes hung from his shoulders, and how sexy he looked with his tie off, and the top three or so buttons of his shirt undone. Harry kissed the top of his blond head.

"God, Malfoy, I want you. I want you so bad."

Not an offer. Not a question. Just a statement.

Malfoy's ears twitched, but he didn't dare move his head or say anything. What exactly was he supposed to say to something like that?

"I really need this, y'know," Harry continued whispering down to the mass of blonde that just reached his chin. "I don't care if it's wrong."

It was at this point that Malfoy finally decided it might be safe to look up. And there it was, staring down at him. The eyes, the hair, the teeth, the eyebrows, the stubble, heck, even the nose and the ears … he couldn't take it anymore.

Harry sensed what Malfoy was thinking and feeling. He let one hand creep up and around to the back of Malfoy's head, before gently directing it closer to his own. There lips were almost touching, when:

"What if someone sees?" Malfoy whispered into Harry's mouth.

"Let them see," Harry whispered back.