Author: parodee.
Type: One-shot, slash.
Rating: Mature; coarse language, older youth content, boy on boy.
Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Ron Weasely but he only shows up in one sentence.
Time frame: Set in their seventh year.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JK Rowling.
Author's note: This one-shot has nothing to do with the book. So Voldemort is not mentioned at all, and he might as well be dead. Enjoy. (:
x
He walks with a certain measure of grace, and his chin is always held high. Harry knows him so very well, so much better than others think.
Harry sees him not as a rival but a challenge because really, who better to challenge his ways than Malfoy? Harry walks the halls slowly, for once not accompanied by Ron or Hermione. But this is not strange, for Malfoy walks alone as well.
Where Crabbe and Goyle are, Harry doesn't know and he doesn't care because he is free to gaze enraptured at the back of Malfoy's head for as long as he wanted until Malfoy turns around and speaks.
"Potter."
His voice is cool and unaffected and Harry wonders how he always sounds indifferent to the world because surely it is not possible to possess so lyrical and dangerous a tone. He says nothing in response and only stares at those pale pink lips as they move in words.
"Potter."
The use of his surname repeated startles him slightly and he drags his gaze up to the Slytherin's emotionless iridescent gray-blue eyes and he is still in wonder and denial because it is not possible for there to be such physical perfection on a human body.
"For Merlin's sake, Potter, what are you staring at?"
Harry stares evenly at him and says nothing still. Malfoy sends him an irritated stare, and brushed roughly by him, and Harry almost shouts at him to stop, to come back and wait please wait but he doesn't.
He stands and says nothing and caresses the shoulder that Malfoy pushed against, hugs himself silently and bows his head in the accepting knowledge that Malfoy will forever and always be the same. So close and yet so far away because Harry can at any time approach him but he may never get any closer.
But he doesn't care and he doesn't give a fuck because he can stare at Malfoy and that alone cannot be taken away from him.
x
Draco reflects silently to himself that there is something wrong, very wrong, with Potter and he hates to admit to himself that it makes him nervous. Potter's behavior towards him of late had been disturbingly different and now Draco frowns because he is confused and he is usually not.
His eyes slide across the classroom to Snape and once he was sure that the Professor was not looking, he turned his gaze to Potter. Potter was sitting with Weasely and Granger as usual and he was obviously not paying a shred of attention to what Snape was saying.
"Mister Potter, I wonder if you could enlighten us with the properties of amethyst after it has been tarnished by the broken aura?" Snape's voice is laced with a silky intensity and Draco is unable to stop himself from smirking because though Potter looks confused, Granger's well practiced hand was already up and erect because she obviously knows the answer.
Potter jerks his head up in surprise and Draco watches the way his messy black bangs are quickly swiped to the side by a swift hand. He envies, and will never admit it, the way Potter's hands move because Potter will forever and always be a better Seeker than he.
Draco on the best broom that money could buy would never be able to win a match against Potter unless the boy had a heart attack half way through the game and had to be taken off the Pitch.
Draco smiles humorlessly as Potter's fiery green eyes burn into that famous glare that he reserved for Snape but Draco is only amused. Potter's emotions show too easily, Potter needs to learn how to shield his thoughts from others. Draco could teach him but that was out of the question for when did a Slytherin ever want to teach a Gryffindor anything?
"I said no, sir," Potter spits out venom in each of his words and Draco's smile widens a little.
"Perhaps, Mr. Potter, your attention should be focused more on me when I am teaching, and less on Mr. Weasley's despicably childish antics." Snape's voice in contrast grows softer and deadlier.
"His childish antics," Potter snarls back, "is far more interesting than your face. Let's not even talk about what you say."
The entire class goes graveyard silent and Draco feels his smile slip uneasily because what was wrong with Potter?
There is a delicately tense moment and Draco watches as the class holds their breath.
"One hundred seventy five points from Gryffindor, Potter, and detention. Be grateful that I did not take off two hundred."
Out of all the snickering Slytherins in the room Draco is the only one who did not react because he is too busy waiting for Potter's reaction and it is not long in the coming but it is not what Draco expects.
Potter doesn't sneer or glare and he doesn't look mortified and Draco is the one feeling concerned because Potter is staring at him. Draco looks back and finds himself getting lost in Potter's eyes because they are so very green and deep and if he could reach into them and comfort the broken soul then perhaps the world would be a better place.
Draco turns away and he is disgusted by his own weird analogies.
x
It's been three days since Malfoy brushed by him in the halls and Harry finds himself unconsciously trying to find the elusive Slytherin so that perhaps Malfoy could brush by him again. He strays down the dungeons and his steps are slightly unsure like he doesn't know if he should be down here at all like he knows this isn't to be but he can't help it.
And standing right at the door of an empty classroom is Malfoy and Harry must not stop and gasp in delight because that would give the game away.
Malfoy's pale, slender hand is resting on the door handle and Harry knows that he is contemplating whether or not he should enter. Harry doesn't care either way but he hopes that Malfoy won't go in because he, Harry, will follow and that would lead to questions that he wouldn't want to answer…
Malfoy enters the room.
Harry wants to cry out for him to stop but he doesn't. He follows him, and Malfoy spins around, startled, and he gives him a strange look and he snaps,
"Potter, what you doing here?" and his words are a hiss that makes Harry want to squirm in pleasure but he doesn't because then the game wouldn't be so very fun.
"I – nothing," is Harry's answer and it sounds clumsy and dumb because his voice is hoarse and wavering.
Malfoy is confused and Harry can see that but he doesn't care he doesn't care he just wants to move forward and claim the prey as his prey and so he does.
x
Draco is confused because Potter isn't trying to hex him and Draco has a grip on his own wand, hidden in his pocket, because he doesn't understand Potter.
Potter takes a step towards him and then another and another and Draco doesn't stop him because he admits that he is curious.
And in three fast strides Potter is right in front of him and Potter is rubbing against him and Draco lets out a husky sort of grunt because for Merlin's sake, Potter is hard and Potter is hard for him.
x
Harry is pleased, so very pleased, because Malfoy hasn't pushed him away yet and he thinks maybe Malfoy is pleased too. So he pushes his hips against Malfoy's and he is rewarded with another aroused moan from him and he bares his teeth in a triumphant smile because Malfoy is now his and even Malfoy couldn't deny it.
Harry doesn't want to wait any longer but he figures that a kiss should be made before he starts ripping off Malfoy's clothes but it turns out that Harry isn't the one who does the kissing because
x
Draco jerks forward and his hands twine in Potter's hair and suddenly his lips are on his and he sticks his tongue in Potter's mouth and takes an experimental lick. Potter lets out this curious mewling sound but it is drowned between their rushed, sloppy kisses.
Potter tastes like everything Draco's ever hated and Potter's mouth is bitter and sweet and hot and warm and Draco hates him. He hates him because he is Potter, and he hates Potter but somehow that doesn't matter because
x
Harry doesn't give a fuck for Malfoy either and somehow that doesn't matter either because
x
Draco and Harry are pawing frantically at each other and hating the feel of clothes between them even more than they hate each other and in the few seconds before they are completely naked they find that they just – don't – care.
And they rub against each other and they let their wandering hands wander and Draco rips off Harry's glasses and throws them to God knows where and Harry's choking out Draco's name like a flute choking out its last melodies.
And Draco loves it and he loves how Harry arches his back when he licks his neck and Harry forcefully rakes a tongue down Draco's collarbone, seeking those sensitive spots.
"Fuck – you –" Draco pants as he shoves Harry unceremoniously against a desk and Harry only grins back and says, "with pleasure" and then Draco is buried against him and it hurts oh fuck it hurts but it hurts so good and it's one big world of black pain and sex and sex and pain.
Harry's coming and Draco's coming and they're both coming – coming going coming going comingcomingcoming –
Gone.
x
And they're worn out and sweating and still entangled in each other's arms and Harry's too curious and inquisitive of Draco's bare body to lie still. Draco is lying still enough, panting slightly and letting Harry explore his body with his tongue and he can't stop himself from purring because Harry is sucking innocently on his neck.
"Stop being so fucking cute," he exhales raggedly and Harry's head is shoved down between Draco's legs and he laughs throatily and they're at it again.
x
The next morning is no different from the million other mornings and Harry searches the Great Hall idly and he notices that Malfoy is staring back at him. He smirks and his smirk is mirrored on Malfoy's face and they both stand simultaneously and Ron asks, startled,
"Harry? Where are you going?"
"Out for a walk," is Harry's short reply and he hurries towards the door because Malfoy is already out.
He finds the Slytherin and they stare at each for a while until Malfoy breaks the silence.
x
"Fuck you, Potter," he hisses in malice.
"Same to you, Malfoy," are the vehement words in response.
x
And it's a hate – hate relationship but neither of them care because they're beyond the point of right and wrong.
Harry doesn't care because he can see the lust in Draco's eyes and he moves forward quickly and their lips are pressed against each other's once more, tongue seeking tongue, and they don't care.
They just don't care.
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Review please? (: