Title: Everything I'm Not
Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.
Authors Note: My apologies for how long this has taken to get out (and for being so short). I'm working on chapter six, however writer's block is a pain. Instead I decide to write a short interlude from Draco's POV, with the lightest touching of smut. (Note: I really don't do too well writing smut. L) In any event, I'm about 2/3s of the way through writing chapter five and it should be up and out soon I would hope. Oh, and currently I don't have a beta reader, so if anyone would be interested please e-mail me or review and drop me a note. Thanks!Chapter Five: After the Kiss
After kissing Harry, Draco was stunned. There had always been an attraction there, however mild. After all, he knew from an early age that he was attracted to both sexes. As he grew older and the females... developed, he found that the attraction he felt for them dwindled. By fifth year he knew he was gay, and found that his eyes would follow after one Harry Potter if he didn't control himself. When they fought on the Quidditch pitch he found himself hard; a combination of the pain and the writhing mass of furious teenager. But to kiss Harry now? He knew it was not a Slytherin thing to do, yet he pulled himself away from the slim body in front of him and left the room, not seeing the look of pain and rejection that passed over the other youths face.
Merlin knew he wanted Harry, but Draco also knew that Harry would need time to recover after everything he noticed. And after listening to a drunken Harry for that week he also knew that Harry had a very low self-esteem. When Draco claimed him he wanted it to be forever, not some one-off they had because Harry needed someone to love him. Sighing, he ran his hand through perfect blond hair and sat on the couch, his eyes wandering over the few belongings of Harry's that he had brought. Somehow he was beginning to regret not packing clothing; although he had a feeling they would be able to pick something up in Diagon Alley.
It was funny, in a way. Both youths were being hunted by a crazed mad man, but Harry could (and would) go out in public without fear, and Draco found himself hoping that he would be somewhere safe. It wasn't that he wanted to hide away from the war so much as he wanted to remain safe. Self-preservation, at least, was a Slytherin trait, and one that Draco was quite proud to have. He laid his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He could still smell Harry here, and a slight smile crossed his lips as his head lolled. Breathing evened as Draco fell into the peaceful confines of sleep, for the first time confident in the safety of the young Gryffindor.
He was in his bed room at the Manor. His familiar four poster bed stood in the middle, silver carved dragons stretching up to the canopy, curtains of emerald green silk hanging down to hide the view within. Hips swaying with a preternatural grace, Draco stalked towards the bed, his toes curling in the thick black pile of carpet beneath his feet. As he tore at the curtains his eyes were met with a green the same as the curtains. "Harry," he breathed, swaying against the bed as he caught himself on one of the dragons.
Harry was laying spread out on the bed, seeker slim body naked and shining gold on the black silk sheets, velvet comforter shoved to the foot of the bed. A low moan escaped Draco's lips as he kneeled reverently, crawling towards the boy who had captured his heart. He wanted to taste those lips, that neck, his chest… Groaning, he grasped Harry's arms and lips crashed, tongues tangling in the wet heat of their mouths. It was wet, and messy, and arousing. Draco slid his length against Harry's thigh, groaning as hands gripped his hips, pulling him up to straddle the youth beneath him.
When they broke apart for air, Draco kissed along Harry's jaw, one hand fisting in Harry's hair to twist his head this way and that, allowing him further access to the golden skin beneath his lips. The other hand gripped Harry's hip, holding him down so he could not buck up and rub his length along Draco's. Moaning filled the air with its sweet music as Draco continued to savour, and love the Gryffindor beneath him, taking his time.
"Draco, love…" Harry moaned into Draco's ear, hands pulling Draco down against his body. "Make love to me." Groaning, Draco nudged his length along Harry's entrance and pushed slowly. The moans turned to screams, and Harry's voice filled his ears, no longer loving, but filled with terror. "No. No, no, no, no... This isn't happening; this is just a dream..."
His eyes flared open, and Draco pushed off the couch and was in the guest room without conscious thought. He crossed the room, and shook Harry's shoulder, sinking onto the bed beside him. "Harry? Potter, are you alright?" When the boy's emerald eyes opened he heaved a silent sigh of relief. It was just a dream. But somehow he found himself wishing that his own dream had been a reality.