Disclaimer: I own no part of Harry Potter. So... don't sue or anything.
First fanfic! Yay!
Warning: If you skipped over the description, this is a Harry/Draco slash. And rated M for a reason. Don't like, don't continue.
Trip to the Moon
It seemed so strange, just having him sit there. Like there was nothing strange going on. Maybe there wasn't anything going on. Maybe, just maybe, it was all in my head.
I didn't want it to all be in my head, but there it rested anyways. I could stare at the back of his blonde, tousle-haired skull, and not pay attention to anything else, and while this was happening, nobody else would notice. Nobody else would see this electricity flowing from one body to the next. Of course, half of the class didn't even know what electricity was, but even so, they wouldn't be able to see it. This blue sparkle glowing in my eyes. My mind would scream "It's so wrong," and yet - somehow - everything felt so right.
My best friends didn't even know. They wouldn't understand, really. Ron was too busy thinking about Hermione, even though he wouldn't ever admit to it, and Hermione was too busy thinking about schoolwork (and she would always admit to it). This was just something I had to deal with on my own.
I'd known something was up when he'd just stopped looking at me all together. He loved taunting me, he loved spinning that web of delusion. I'd been stuck in it for years. Maybe he didn't really hate me. Maybe it was just a cover up.
That's what I was thinking when we were dismissed. But I was too damn busy staring at his perfect hair that I didn't notice. Ron had to kick my shin to get me to snap out of it, and I blushed. Normally, he would've said something mocking, something that would sting now and bruise later. But he was already gone, his two Neanderthal minions stalking off behind him.
My steps echoed through the stone halls along with every other student scuttling off to their next class. I had a free afternoon from then on, and I told Ron and Hermione I'd meet up with them later. They exchanged awkward, worrisome glances. "What?" I asked, my voice a little bit hoarse. I wasn't sure why - maybe it was nerves. Having him around me seemed to grow more and more nervewracking.
"Harry..." Hermione began. She swallowed deeply, and her eyes grew a little bit wider. She glanced over at Ron, who shrugged her onward. "Ron and I... we're a little bit worried about you. You've been walking around in a complete daze for the past week - you don't seem to hear anything anyone says anymore. You're falling behind on your work - you always want to be alone." She paused and cleared her throat. "Are you alright?"
"I'm great," I said, not a moment too soon. "I feel fine. Just... tired lately. Lots of work." Hermione didn't fall for it. "Really, Hermione. I'm okay. I'm going to go take a nap for a little bit, catch up on some sleep. I'll be even better when I wake up." I pushed a smile at her - as sincerely as possible (I can be a great actor if I want to be), and she smiled weakly back. She nodded and then said a quiet good-bye, as she was almost late for her next class. Ron turned to me, grinning, as soon as Hermione was out of sight. His red hair was fluttering around his head like flames. "So... who's the lucky lady?" he asked under his breath. We started walking down the formerly clogged, stone covered halls.
"No lady. Just sleep," I muttered. Ron thought he knew - but he had no idea. He could never know whose face it was that haunted me day in and day out for the past week. Ron rolled his eyes, big and blue, in his thick skull. "Am I really supposed to believe that? You get this way whenever there's a girl - so who is it this time?"
"I'm not kidding around, Ron. I really just want to go and get a little bit of sleep, alright?" I snapped, halfway up the impending staircase. My companion stopped dead in his tracks.
"Fine, mate. See you at dinner." Ron skulked off into the shadows. I sighed deeply, not wanting to fight with Ron, but knowing that this sickness of mine would have to remain a secret. I turned into the brightly lit halls, and ran smack into a body standing at the top of the staircase. "Sorry," I apologized quickly, brushing myself off. I looked up to see a scouring glare pointed down at me. I immediately froze and a stiff flush ran through my entire body. "Malfoy," came a grunt through tightened teeth. He smirked at me, and shook his head.
"Watch where you're going, Potter," he snarled behind his daring smile. "What's the rush? Got a helpless baby to save?" I felt my face heating, crimson curling up from where my chin met my throat.
So I had been imagining it all. Draco Malfoy - you were not changed. You were not anything. I had gotten my hopes up for nothing. So, I guess you can just slip back into the shadows of my dreams and I can suppress everything I've been feeling - every wrong look, every small smile, every glazed gaze. I gripped my fingers tightly into my palm. "Yes, plus a few blind, helpless old ladies as well," I snarled right back at him. The words curled and boiled right off of my lips. They felt hot and heavy, like they were burning.
"What's the matter?" Draco said, trying, but failing, so mask slight concern. He quickly recovered by adding, "you eat something bad this morning? I can see it written all over your face." He smirked again, and I just glared at him. So maybe I wasn't imagining it.
"Buzz off," I said, burshing by him and down the hall. I didn't look back - I wanted to, but didn't. I knew he was standing there, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Something strange really was going on.
As soon as I turned round a corner, I mimicked his actions. My lower half was heated to the point of a strangely comforting discomfort, and my top half felt drained and dead. My eye sockets ached, and I couldn't figure out why.
This was all so strange.
The light snores of Ron and the other boys in our dorm were soothing, rhythmic. I couldn't sleep, my body was throbbing. Maybe I really was sick. Hermione had asked me earlier if I was feeling any better and I told her yes, even though I felt worse. I just felt like I was slime, slurping against the cold stones of Hogwarts halls. So, everything was dark and a chilled calm had kind of come over everything. Everyone else was asleep, as far as I knew, when I slipped down the stairs in my pajamas and into the common room. The fire was dim and low, just embers now. There was a body that had fallen asleep at her books in one of the overstuffed armchairs. A cat was lurking around, and another was asleep in front of the fire. It opened one green eye to meet mine, and then closed it again. I smiled at it, and picked up a blanket to throw over the sleeping girl. Everything was so calm.
The painting creaked to a close as I slid out, the fat lady sound asleep and snoring. I shivered and wished I had brought a cloak on this pointless journey. I tread lightly on the stone floors in my stocking feet, and a very faint echo followed me as I wandered.
Turning a dark corner, staring at me feet, I bumped into a familiar body. He made a quiet "oomph" sound and, but the look of his stocking feet, he was having as difficult a time of finding sleep as I was. "Sorry," I muttered, trying to be as quiet as possible. "What are you doing up?' I said through a clenched jaw to the blonde, ghostly boy in front of me.
"Couldn't sleep," he said quietly. "Now I definitely won't sleep," he added, disgustedly. My eyes rolled. However, we both snapped out of our slight daze quickly. A growing light was forming at the opposite end of the hall, and a clattering limp sounded along with it. Draco looked around quickly, grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the broomcloset across from us. The space was small and dark, but we avoided being seen by Filch and his damnable cat. Draco was breathing heavy, and unneccessarily close to me. "Why'd you do that? Pull me in with you? You could've easily left me out there to get eaten up by Filch," I stated under my breath as soon as I was sure they were gone.
"If I'd left you out there, you would've ratted me out," he muttered, matter-of-factly.
"How do you know?" In the darkness, Malfoy raised a pale eyebrow at me, as far as I could tell. It was very dark, and very close quarters. "I probably would have," I said, just to cover myself up.
I could feel his heated breath against my cheek, and his hand was awkwardly trying to find the door handle. His other one brushed my leg, and we both quickly recoiled. "I can't find the doorknob," he said quietly, panicked. I gripled around the door, trying to find my escape. My fingertips brushed the back of his hand, and neither of us recoiled this time. I just slowly pulled my hand back. "Sorry," I muttered. I could hear his heaving breath; I could feel his chest rising steadily up and down and I knew something was boiling up in him. My mouth was about to open and ask what was going on with him when suddenly, my face was being held lightly in the cool palms of his hands, his soft, pale pink lips pushing against mine. My back jerked directly into the wall behind me. That would sting tomorrow. His lips felt surprisingly pillowy soft against mine, pressing ever so slightly. My fingers wrested his hands away from my face, and he pulled away as quickly as he had advanced. Before he could say anything, do anything, I grabbed his waist and pulled him toward me, pushing my lips against his. I teased his mouth open with my dry tongue, searching for restitution. He grabbed my dusky hair between his stick-like fingers and pulled me into him, letting out a slight moan.
Slipping down past the elastic waistband of his pajama bottoms, under the similar line of his boxers, and letting my hand rest on his bare hips, I felt the warm rays of his white, snowy skin - smoother than stone, warmer than any fire I'd every felt. I pushed the two cloth layers down past his perfectly formed ass. His hipbones jutted out into my palms, and he was fully exposed to me. His lips, however, were still eagerly searching the chasm of my mouth, and I could taste that delicious want on his tongue. I pulled back and he held onto my neck like it was a rock on the cliff from which he'd fallen. I could feel my pulse pounding between my legs, heating me up in a way I'd never felt before. He looked deeply into my eyes - his looked almost crimson in the lack of light.
With all his might, he pushed my head down to his groin. He was rising slowly. I placed seemingly well practiced kisses around the affected area, and he grasped my hair shockingly. He pulled me up to meet him and kissed me deeply. My hands gripped his stoney erection, stroking lightly. Pulled away and breathed heavily into my neck, stifling a yell with my throat. His hands went down my shirt and quickly unbuttoned each and every button as quickly as he possibly could. My flannel shirt fell away to the stoney ground and created a warm cocoon over our feet. He ran his hands over my slight muscle, and my chest glowed. He pulled his own shirt off, and there he stood, naked as the day his was born in front of me. He flipped me around so that my chest rammed into the stone wall, knocking the wind out of me.
Behind me, he pulled my pants down to my ankles and shoved himself into my ass. It hurt for a moment, but as I took a sharp breath in, my own erection growing against the cold wall of the broomcloset, everything seemed to go pleasantly numb. His kissed graced the side of my neck, and my wrists grasped his hands around my waist as he pulsed inside me. My eyes fluttered and rolled inside my head.
He pulled away quickly, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward him. I landed against his body firmly and we kissed, long and hard. Spurts of joy welled up inside me and I gave in completely. He muttered into my closed mouth, "This wasn't supposed to happen." I nestled my chin on his head and smiled at the darkness, letting his breath form a moist blanket around my pounding chest.
"It doesn't matter now," I said quietly, my eyes closed.