Disclaimer: we all know the drill… I don't own it, blah blah blah… I wish I did, blah blah blah… and so on.

WARNING! Character death in a later chapter. This story also contains SLASH! First couple chapters have moderate language. If you don't approve, don't read. That said, I hope you enjoy the story.

Kisses Were Never Meant to Hurt Ch. 1

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Rumbling thunder was heard in the distance as 17 year old Harry Potter walked back to the main grounds of Hogwarts. It was mid-September, and Harry had just paid a visit to Hagrid, telling him all about another one of his lovely summers spent with the Dursleys. 'Lovely is definitely the word for it,' thought Harry sarcastically. He had been treated better than the last summer, but still – being made a constant chef for the family wasn't exactly what Harry had expected upon returning to aunt and uncle's house. Especially when it involved hot grease being spilled on your arm while trying to master three meals at once.

The wind was now picking up as the brewing storm slowly made its way across the lake, and Harry knew he wasn't in any rush to get back. The last thing he wanted to do was to be bombarded by friends, and all the odd looks and double takes he got from the first years was getting rather old. After his godfather Sirius's death two years ago, Harry had become very quiet. He kept his thoughts to himself, and preferred to do his studying alone. However, there was one thing he was still very passionate about – quidditch. He could read about it for hours, he dreamt about it on the nights he felt lonely, and sometimes while at practice, he imagined himself winning the Quidditch World Cup. He had been made the Gryffindor team captain in sixth year, and he very much enjoyed it.

"Where has the time gone?" Harry thought aloud, with a small sigh. He couldn't believe he was already 17, in his last year at Hogwarts, and –

"Making friends with your sissy side, Potter? You know, talking to yourself is not a good sign. It makes people think you've got more problems than you already do."

Ah, the infamous voice of Draco Malfoy. Harry had learned to ignore it by now, seven years of daily insults eventually gotten used to. It was then that he realized he was walking up the path toward the castle, and Draco was sitting off to the right side of the staircase, arms leaning against the stone wall, with one leg straight out, and one bent at the knee.

"Too busy to answer me, Potter? I didn't think you considered yourself that important."

Harry made his way up the steps, and entered the gigantic castle that he called home. After setting foot inside, he shut the door, and locked it. Malfoy would have to find his own way in.

The colors projected through the window by the almost covered sun weren't as bright as they used to be. 'Nothing's as bright as it used to be,' thought Harry, 'everything's eventually going to change.' He had picked up on that theory in his first year after saving the sorcerer's stone, and it seemed to be quite true.

"Harry! Where have you been, you missed dinner, I was worried!" Hermione came dashing up to him and handed him a small napkin with something wrapped inside. "I saved it for you; I didn't think Seamus deserved a sixth helping." Harry unwrapped the package and pulled out a plump pumpkin muffin with a gold wrapper around the bottom. He wasn't really hungry, but ate it anyway because of Hermione's uneeded thoughtful gesture. She cared about everyone so much, and she had been so kind to him since they met in the first year. "Thanks, 'mione," he said.

Harry felt a light smack on his back as somebody came up behind him. He saw that it was Ron, who was just about to say hello, but saw Hermione. A now six-foot-tall Ron Weasley strode up to Hermione and snaked a freckled arm around her waist. 'I was right, everything HAS changed,' thought Harry.They had been dating since the beginning of sixth year, when they both finally realized they had feelings stronger than friendship towards each other. Harry was truly happy for them, but at the same time he felt neglected. 'I need somebody. Cho was never worth it, what a dumb idea that was.' Harry made a mental note to extend a gesture to somebody this year. 'Maybe the girls just don't like me, they probably think I'm too full of myself.' He thought. His luck with the ladies hadn't been very well; he had only briefly dated one girl, Cho, who had loved to cry about anything and everything she could think of. Or so that's how he looked at it.

"Harry, hello? Hello?" Ron prodded him in the arm and Harry realized he had been staring off somewhere.

"Oh, yeah, sorry mate. What?" Why was he so worried about this? Getting a date wasn't his top priority at the moment.

"I asked you if you wanted to play a game of chess with me. We haven't played in ages."

'Yeah, I wonder why.' Harry would have loved to laugh at this. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his friends, it was the fact that they were always so busy with eachother. He preferred not to be around them at those particular moments. Nevertheless, he wouldn't turn down a good game of chess with his best friend. He accepted the offer and the three started towards the common room.

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It was now 1am, and Harry was tired of pretending to be asleep. He needed another walk. Getting up silently and putting on a large sweatshirt, he got ready to leave, but not before checking his calendar and getting his invisibility cloak. It wasn't a full moon. The last thing he wanted was to end up like Lupin. Though Harry respected the man very much and looked up to him, he hated the horrible things Lupin had to go through once a month. He had seen him transform once, and it was one of the scariest and most disturbing things he had ever witnessed.

He left the common room and silently started down the grand staircase toward the door that lead to the main grounds. He would then take the route to the lake, it was always so pretty at night. Before he knew it, Harry was already on the grounds, and the lake was coming into sight. He stopped for a moment, breathed in deeply, and looked out at the black water shimmering in the moonlight. This was the same lake where he had defended himself and Sirius against hundreds of dementors in his third year. 'Sirius,' he thought, 'I wonder where you are now. I wonder if you think about what you had to leave behind. You didn't deserve it, I hope you know that.' Harry sat down and touched the cool water, for he was now at the bank of it. "And I want to thank you for saving my life." He was incredibly appreciative that Sirius would risk his life for his own, though he hadn't been all that thankful right after it happened. He spent a lot of time angry at his godfather for doing such a stupid, reckless thing. Harry sighed. He missed Sirius so much.

Just then, he heard footsteps walking down the path behind him. Harry immediately started praying that it wasn't Filch and his ugly cat Mrs. Norris. Though he was under his invisibility cloak, Harry knew that Mrs. Norris could sense anything. He dared himself to look back, and prepare to run if need be. The footsteps became closer, but slower, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a taller figure dressed in all black walk up the lake. He knew it wasn't a dementor, because right after the figure pulled off its hat, Harry saw very clearly an immediate flash of silver-blonde hair. He knew who that was. Harry dug up a gigantic dirt clod that filled the palm of his hand, and pitched it at the side of the blonde's head. "What the fuck!" He couldn't help laughing out loud at the angry and possibly even scared response. "Who's over there? Show yourself!" demanded Draco Malfoy, who was now shaking his head and trying to dust off the dirt from the side of his face. Harry admired how Draco's hair flipped evenly around his face, and wished his would do the same. Even if it were in the condition of Draco's, it was very unlikely that his hair would do what he wanted it to do. It was very like his fathers unruly mess.

Draco now looked utterly confused, and had pulled out his wand just in case. It was amusing Harry to see him like this, so nervous and confused. Draco was rarely ever nervous, or confused. Harry pulled up another dirt clod, slightly smaller, and threw it again at Draco. It hit him square in the chest, and Draco responded by finding his own and throwing it back. "Whoever you are, STOP THROWING THE DAMNED DIRT!" He couldn't tell whether Draco thought it was funny, or if he was really angry with his mystery attacker. After all, he did have a half-grin on his face. "I'll have you know I JUST took a shower, and the purpose of that was to be CLEAN."

"Thanks for sharing, I'll keep that in mind next time I need somewhere to go and something to amuse myself with." Harry yelled back at Draco, and unfortunately he recognized his voice. "Potter!" Draco was very confused now. "Where ARE you? And really, stop throwing dirt!" Malfoy was now about 4 ft from Harry, searching for him and trying to make sure he would not get hammered again.

"Damn," said Harry under his breath. Game over. He pulled off his cloak and put it on the ground beside him. Draco saw him and immediately swung another clod in his direction. It got him in the shoulder. "Why so worried about dirt? You don't see me scared of it." Harry got up and brushed his shoulder off.

"Well I don't believe you take showers, whenever I pass by something smells. Or maybe it's Weasley; he probably isn't used to showering in such nice bathrooms. I hear his family uses a bucket." Draco and insults. What more can you expect?

"Whatever, Malfoy."

"Not going to stick up for your special friend Potter? I've never seen a day where you two aren't together." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "Ahh.. I see. They're tired of being the Golden Boy's little playthings! Always being dragged along to witness his amazing powers…"

Harry rolled his eyes. At this point, he wouldn't even try to correct Malfoy on this. It might cause more harassment from him on Ron and Hermione's part.

Malfoy coughed a little, choked, and coughed again. Then he did something a Malfoy never does in public – he laughed a little. "Damn cold air. Does nothing for my health."

"Then why are you out here?" Harry asked, truthfully wondering.

"Why are YOU out here?" Malfoy responded, not accusingly.

"To think."

"About what?"

"None of your concern."

"Fine." Malfoy's voice grew cold again, the same way it was when they had classes together.

"You know Malfoy, why do you try to put on such a tough exterior? You're not so bad one on one." Harry was trying to make small talk, and possibly find out the cause of Malfoy's eternal cruelness.

Malfoy made a "hmph" that was barely audible, and then said, "Why do you care?"

Harry shrugged. "Just wondering. And you've still got dirt in your hair by the way."

Harry made the motion to brush it off, but Malfoy caught his hand and put it down.

"Don't touch me."

"Sorry."

"You damn well should be. And you've still got dirt on your sleeve too; but I bet you'd want to make it out to be that you got dirty trying to finish off a dementor all in the line of duty." Though Malfoy said this rather harshly, he made to brush the dirt off Harry's sleeve. Harry let him, and for some odd reason, it sent chills down his spine. And Harry liked it.

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A/N: FEEDBACK TIME! So…. The story's FINALLY been beta'd and checked over. I changed some of the dialogue too. You won't have to wait months for the next chapter, don't worry. This isn't going to turn out to be some sappy 'together forever in love' slash fic, nor will it be fluff.

PS. I like reviews.