Firelight

Pairings: Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

A/N: Okay this just came up and bit me just as it was our lights out (Boarding school…grr.) So twas written late at night in our toilets so as not to disturb my ever patient dorm mate. Book six never happened, yes? Good! See what you think…

Warning: This is SLASH. That means boy/boy, yaoi, shonen ai or however else you want to say it. If you don't like it then press the back button and read something else. Flames will be shredded and fed to my rabid pet goldfish, Miranda and Callisto. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. If they were, the line 'He was rapidly becoming obsessed with Draco Malfoy.' from HBP would have progressed a lot further and Tonks would have died instead of Sirius.

The Room of Requirement was a wonderful place. Draco loved it. It was his hideaway, his sanctuary. When the constant bragging, backstabbing and plotting of the Slytherin common room got too much he hid away in here to unwind and to think. He was doing just this on the 18th of November in his sixth year. Pansy was off with some guy, Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering stupidly over a magazine in a corner but what had annoyed him was Nott. He'd been telling his girlfriend about his father's 'business' and 'meetings' in a loud voice for all to hear. Just daring Draco to say something. Draco had had to leave before he hexed Nott into a pile of sludge. Now he was sitting by the fire, staring moodily into space when he heard the doorknob turn and someone came in. Irritated, he turned round to tell the intruder to leave.

Harry was quite surprised to see Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. He had come there to attempt his History of Magic essay. The last thing he wanted was Malfoy. His heart sank as the boy's lip curled into a familiar sneer.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"You could but I asked first." Harry frowned angrily.

"I don't want a fight, Malfoy."

"Well then I suggest you leave."

"I've got just as much right to be here as you do!"

"I was here first, Potter!"

"Look, I just want to do some homework, okay? The common room is way too noisy."

"What about your dorm?"

"Ron and Hermione are in there." Draco pulled a face.

"Yuck." Harry rolled his eyes, strode over to a desk and set his work down.

"Go away, Potter!"

"I'm not going to disturb you! Go back to whatever you were doing before."

"Plotting to kill you and make it look like Weasley did it?" Harry shrugged.

"If you want." Draco glared and sighed loudly.

"You're really not going to leave me alone?"

"No."

"…Fine!" Draco turned back around and began to sulk.

For a while to room was filled with silence. Draco couldn't concentrate on his musings while Harry was there…but somehow he didn't want to break the truce. The Room was his place to be peaceful. He didn't feel the need to insult Harry here. However he was beginning to get bored.

"Your friends…" Harry looked up vaguely.

"Wha…?" Draco looked impatient.

"Your friends. Do they…occupy…the dorm a lot?"

"Every bloody chance they get…why?" Draco shrugged.

"Their kids are going to be seriously ugly." Harry's eyes flashed.

"Could we have one conversation where you don't insult them?"

"We're talking about us, Potter. Insults are practically required."

"But why?" Draco narrowed his eyes.

"I can't help but insult them. There's just so much to choose from."

"They're not even here! They haven't done anything."

"Yes they have. They were born."

"Shut your mouth, Malfoy!"

The fight got louder and louder until they were both standing screaming at each other. They were so caught up in the argument that neither of them heard the soft click of the lock or the quiet cackle from outside the door. Finally Harry grabbed his essay and quill.

"That's it, Malfoy! Even Ron and Hermione at their worst are better than this!" He stormed over to the door and tried to open it. Tried being the main word here. Draco's retort died on his lips as he stared in horror at Harry's struggle with the door. This time they both heard the cackle.

"Peeves! Open the door now!"

"Is Potty wee Potter stuck? Poor spotty Potty…such a pity the key is nowhere to be seen…!"

"PEEVES!" But the ghost had already gone, his maniacal laughter echoing through the deserted corridors.

Harry slammed his fist onto the door with a cry of frustration. Draco just stood there in shock.

I'm going to share a room…with Harry. Not good.

Harry shot Draco a look of dislike.

"Looks like we're staying the night."

Not good at all…

"Let's just try not to kill each other, okay?" Harry walked back over to the desk and placed his essay back onto it. Draco shook his head to clear it and hitched his blank mask back into place.

"And where do you suggest we sleep, Potter?"

"Er…well, there's the couch…and um…the floor?" Draco glared at him.

"I need to sleep in a bed, Potter."

"And what I am meant to do about it?"

"I don't know! This room gives you what you need, right? So how do we tell it we need beds?"

"Er…"

"Come on, Potter!"

"I don't know! Normally you just have to think of what you need and it appears."

"…It does not seem to be working, Potter."

"Well, the couch it is then."

"I get the couch." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Of course. I forgot. Precious Prince Malfoy needs his beauty sleep."

"You're learning, Potter." Draco sat himself down on the couch and smirked up at Harry who glowered and turned back to his essay. A few moments passed. Then…

"Potter, I'm bored."

"Amuse yourself then."

"You're boring me."

"I feel so guilty."

"Potter!"

"What?"

"I'm bored!" Harry swivelled around to face Draco, who pouted.

"Fine. What do you want to do."

"Um…I would suggest talking but we'd probably both end up dead."

"Well then how about I finish my essay while you think of something to do."

"But essays are boring."

"For God's Sake! Alright then, here's a question for you. Why do you hate Ron and Hermione so much?" Draco froze.

"Go back to your essay."

"But you said…"

"I just do. Essay." He turned away and stared at the fire. He heard Harry sigh again and scowled. Potter's stupid friends. Stupid Weasley and his stupid bloody loyalty. Stupid mudblood Granger who was so bloody clever. Screw them and their perfect lives.

There was more silence. Harry carried on writing but couldn't stop himself shooting glances at Draco brooding on the couch. The firelight played over his features, softening them, and shone gently through wisps of hair that had been ruffled by the wind outside. His figure against the flames looked like something out of a painting.

Suddenly Draco shifted slightly and the light now threw shadows under his eyes and cheekbones. His silver eyes burned but he looked gaunt and ghostlike. Strangely this only seemed to accent his almost haunting beauty even more…wait, haunting beauty? Harry's eyes widened and he turned quickly back to face the wall above his desk. Beauty? Since when did he think about Draco Malfoy's beauty? Draco Malfoy, his hated rival. Draco Malfoy, his male hated rival who tormented Harry and his friends for no apparent reason at all. This was not normal…

Completely unaware of Harry's inner monologue, Draco himself leaned back and stretched his legs out luxuriously along the couch. Sleepily he opened one eye and looked over at Harry who was looking intently at a patch of blank wall as though it would write his essay for him. Idiotic Gryffindors.

"I'm going to sleep." Harry didn't move. Draco's eyes narrowed. He did not like being ignored. He glared fiercely at Harry, his irritation growing, willing the other boy to react. Finally he couldn't bare the silence anymore.

"You want to know why I hate them?" he blurted out. Startled green eyes met angry silver ones.

"What…why?"

"Because it's the only thing I know how to do." Harry blinked.

"I don't…understand." Draco looked away.

"Neither do I." He said quietly.

"I…"

"Just listen. Please?"

"Um…o…okay…" Draco closed his eyes.

"I hate them because I've been taught to hate. For as long as I can remember. Compassion is weakness. Everyone except the Dark Lord are beneath you therefore no one except the Dark Lord is worthy of respect. Malfoys do not love. Sadness is weakness. Crying merely shows weakness. Channel sadness into anger and hate. Always anger and hate. These will prevent you from becoming weak. Malfoys are never weak." Draco shivered. Harry felt the urge to hug him. What? No! This was…but Draco was talking again so Harry pushed the strange thoughts aside and listened.

"Mother and Father never loved, so neither did I. I don't know how. That's another reason why I hate your friends. They've got so much love. It's so easy for them. But they see me and turn away. Even people who are overflowing with love won't give any to me. Not that I really expected them to." Draco laughed bitterly. "Everyone knows Malfoys are cold, cruel, heartless and obsessed with power and money. Only fellow high status Slytherins are associated with Malfoys…you have no idea how lonely that is." Draco frowned and looked into the flames again. He had told Potter that, why? All he meant to do was get his attention. But it had just all come pouring out…well Harry definitely wasn't ignoring him now.

Suddenly he heard the couch creak and realised Harry had sat down beside him. Uncomfortable, he carried on staring determinedly at the floor while Harry talked softly.

"I often feel lonely too. Like I can be in a big crowd but still no one really knows me or hears what I say. Everyone sees me as they want me to be. A tragic orphan. A brave hero. A wannabe. An attention seeking airhead. A saviour. An obvious target. Whatever. I think even Ron and Hermione have images for themselves of me. People expect me to lead them all to victory and defeat Voldemort. But I don't know if I can. I'm…I'm scared." Draco looked sharply at Harry. The astonishing eyes were fixed on him. Draco dropped his gaze again.

"I…I'm not very good at…comfort either." The boyish charm returned with a small smile.

"It's alright…I just needed to tell someone." Draco hesitantly raised his eyes.

"And…what…what about me?" Harry now looked very nervous and his eyes dropped to Draco's lips.

"Um…" For a moment nothing moved.

Then Harry lent forwards and touched his lips to Draco's. Draco eagerly pushed forwards, burying his hands into Harry's soft hair. Harry however, had no idea what to do. His head was screaming abuse at him. This was wrong, it was bad, he should not like this, this was Malfoy! But somehow he couldn't sever the contact from those soft lips, couldn't pull back from those hands, those arms, that embrace…and when he felt the gentle nudge of Draco's tongue, he couldn't help but open his mouth, craving the touch on his own tongue. Finally his mind left him alone, allowing him to concentrate on Draco and only Draco.

Eventually they broke apart. Draco found himself locked in another powerful stare.

"Maybe I could try and show you what love is."

"I think that's a very good idea." But as Draco leaned in to drown himself in more sweet kisses he knew deep down that love was nothing more than messy black hair, round emerald eyes and a trusting lopsided grin.

A/N: Well that turned out completely different from how I'd planned it in my mind. Ah well. I like this ending better

Please review! Unless you are going to make a nasty comment on slash. Then just don't bother. (By the way it's spelt 'gross' not 'gros' sweet.filo.chik. At least try to spell insults right otherwise it doesn't really have the same effect, now does it?)

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