PLEASE READ: Hey guys. Before you eagerly dive into the long-awaited chapter, there are a few things I wanna say first.
1). I wanna thank each and every one of you guys for the love. I just checked the stats and I'm once again blown again. The story has reached over 12,000 views. 12,000! Not only that, but one reader actually added the story onto a community. I'm blown away from the love, guys, and hope it continues
2) I start my junior year of college next week so I won't be able to post as easily as I did during the summer. However, even though I won't be able to update as quickly, I promise I'll update as soon as I can.
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Okay. Now that I've said what I had to say, onto the story. Hope the wait was worth it and that you enjoy it.
Chapter 12: Curious Experimentation, Searing Sensations
If they were friends instead of best friends, then there would be questions. Particularly about how a certain movie-night came to an unexpected close, just like their game with Slyther had gone in an unexpected direction. If Hogwarts was a simple school, then maybe there'd be time for questions and possibly more.
It proved, though, that was the difference between a friend and a best friend. A friend questioned boundaries and which ones were safer to cross, what questions were safer to ask. A best friend already knew the boundaries and understood there was a certain time and place for questions.
He didn't know how Harry felt about that unexpected closing. He was half-asleep when Draco did…well, what he did. But Harry might have remembered how flustered and shocked Draco was by he did, so he never brought up. It was something Draco was both grateful for and a bit disappointed. The ending of the movie-night may have not have been brought up, but it was always there in the back of his mind, recalling the softness of those pink lips, how they tasted just like the chocolate they've been eating, how bolts of heat practically exploded from the brief contact.
Which brought Hogwarts to mind. If the school was a simple school, where they didn't have worry anything other than keeping up with homework and friends and Quidditch, then maybe the two would have talked about what happened. Questions would have been brought up sooner.
But, as Draco came to learn, Hogwarts was no ordinary school, even for a magical one. Danger always seemed to be lurking around, danger which was drawn to Harry.
Last year, it was a crazed lunatic who was trying to prove himself to his master. This year, it was the mysterious Heir of Slytherin. And just as there was a new featured danger for second year, there were also surprises that came with it. Surprises which fell under three categories: bad surprise, good surprise, and unexpected surprise.
Bad surprise: the field incident-which Draco will forever refer to that morning as-involving him calling Granger a mudblood, causing Harry to pull away from him. The incident was a taste of the possible reality Draco had always feared and had no desire to return to. There was also the fact shortly after the second student was petrified, Draco was roped into helping Harry and the imbeciles solve the mystery of the Heir of Slytherin. Normally, Draco was all for helping his best friend, but he also had to work with the weasel and insect, spending more time with them than he ever wanted.
Good surprise: his admittance of his fear of abandonment getting the opposite response he thought it would. He was positive once the confession was out, Harry would pull away from him. To his amazement, that didn't happen. If anything, his confession brought them closer. Even though Harry was still friends with the Gryffindorks (sadly that was the one thing his confession didn't change), he did better manage his time between his old friends and his new ones, balancing them out equally. Not to mention the delicious conversation he had with Granger Draco was proud to say he was a witness to.
Unexpected surprise: puberty. The talks he had with his parents and the brief summary Severus had given him on the subject hadn't prepared him for the painful process. Talking hadn't prepared him for the bouts of warmth that fired across his stomach whenever his wandering eyes took notice of curves and soft skin and lips. It hadn't prepared him for the awkward flustering that burnt his face whenever the focus of his wandering eyes turned around, seeing he was staring at them. When Pansy noticed him watching her adjust her skirt, drawing attention to her thighs, she simply shrugged it off. Course, her focus quickly turned to Theo, who made a comment about her thighs jiggling a bit, which earned him a face-dunk straight into his mushroom soup. When Wood stood up after retrieving his spare broom and noticed Draco staring, the Gryffindor looked as puzzled as disgusted and mortified the Slytherin felt. When Harry caught his wandering eye, he'd stare right back, increasing the temperature of his blushing-hot face. It also didn't explain that while he'd be introduced to new emotions, current ones would be enhanced. Like anger and jealously.
Both which fired in his veins when Granger burst into the Great Hall during the end of the year banquet and ran straight into Harry's arms, nearly knocking him off his feet. She hugged him tightly and Harry beamed brightly while holding her just as tight.
To say that Draco was ticked off would be a vast understatement. Envious hit the mark. Murderous would have played a role if Harry hadn't pulled back. A full minute later.
Harry was given a hug for defeating the basilisk and breaking its spell. Weasley, a head-nod that reeked of awkwardness. When it was Draco's turn, it was just like the troll-rescue all over again. She was stunned he played a part in the rescue, and it looked like it almost hurt her to say "Thank you, Draco."
Just like last time, her words left him unmoved and were returned with a scowl. A scowl that eased a bit, turning into a ghost of a smirk as he thought back to the delicious conversation he walked in on at the library days before she had been petrified.
"You told Draco you hoped I'd stop being his friend?"
It was only a matter of pure coincidence he was searching for a book at the exact shelf where the golden trio were doing their homework on the other side. He pulled out a book and stuck his head out, making sure he wasn't seen, getting a clear view of Harry with the imbeciles. He couldn't contain the smile that spread across his face when he heard the question. One that widened as he watched the blood rushing to insect's face.
"I…he…"
"Mate, I'm sure the ferret is making it-"
"No," Whatever the weasel was about to say, Harry cut him off. He was focused on Granger, who avoided his eyes. "I want to hear it from her."
"I…" She turned to him. Whatever she saw in Harry's eyes made her flinch and look away, needing a minute to compose herself. "Well-"
"Yes or no, Hermione." Draco knew the no was thrown in for show. Harry already knew the truth. Granger's hesitation said it all. He just wanted to see if Granger would be a noble little Gryffindor and admit to what she did or try to talk her way out of it.
"I…not in those exact words."
"But close enough."
She swallowed, looking away. This was even better than watching her get knocked off her high-horse at the field. She was being strangled with her own words.
Weasley, though, decided to dampen the sweet moment, coming to the insect's defense. "Come on, Harry. Malfoy's a prat. Everyone knows it."
Granger nodded. "Which is why I said what I said. You're an incredible person. You can do so much better than him. I simply don't understand why you'd want to be friends with someone like him. It makes no sense-"
Harry was already standing up, gathering his things. Draco may be far but even he could see the unmistakable flare of anger firing in those vivid emeralds.
Seeing that flare caused one to come alive in his lower region, causing his knees to weaken. Draco leaned against the shelf for support.
"There's nothing hard to understand, Hermione. Draco may have crossed a line, but so did you. And you did so first. You had absolutely no right to say that to him," Harry said. "Yes, he may be a prat but he's my prat. He's my best friend and he's not going away. You're going to have to deal with that. And if not…"
Harry didn't finish the sentence. He was that upset. He looked at them both, shook his head, and left the library.
Weasley looked baffled. Stunned was the only word to describe the look on Granger's face.
Not so smug now, Little Miss Know-it-all. Draco smirked.
Almost as if the girl could read his thoughts, her lips were fixed into a tight frown.
Second year started off odd and ended strange. Thankfully the summer made up for it. First and foremost, Lupin didn't request another summer-long visit to his Moscow farmhouse, which meant Harry stayed with him. Second, instead of spending the summer at home, they were spending it in Florence, Italy at their vacation villa.
Though they met Mother and Father for breakfast and dinner, the boys were left to their own devices. The boys made sure not to waste a single minute of it. Exploring the city on foot and on those death-machine Vespas Harry insisted were a must. Checking out all the sights such as the breathtaking sights and art. Going to the beach where they swam till they were prunes and tanned under the sun. Filling their stomachs with Gelatos and other delicious food from the various vendors they passed during their exploring. And last night, they snuck into a club and shared their first bottle of Firewhiskey, dancing until their feet ached. Or in Harry's case, until he dropped into a sleepy dead heap, and Draco had to carry him back home.
Thank Merlin, the whiskey was only a small bottle and not a huge one otherwise they'd be hangover. And with neither one knowing the ingredients to an anti-hangover potion, they'd be screwed.
"So what do you boys have planned for the day?" Mother asked after the house-elf brought in breakfast.
Draco looked over at Harry. "Beach day?"
"Beach day." Harry confirmed with a grin.
After the house-elf packed up their things, the two headed out. If there was one thing Draco loved most about private beaches, it was in the name itself: private. Absolute privacy with no intruders. Meaning they didn't have to worry about searching for the right spot to lay out their stuff in the overpopulated sea of beach-goers. They didn't have to worry about people watching them or being exposed to cringe-worthy sights his mind would have a hard time erasing. And having a glorious ocean all to themselves.
One of the many perks to being a Malfoy.
After two straight hours of swimming, splashing each other with gigantic waves, and dunking each other deep into the water, Draco exchanged fun in the water for a nice tan under the sun.
His eyes cracked opened when the sun was being momentarily blocked. He looked up. Harry smiled down at him as he moved across the towel.
"Hope I'm not blocking your view, old man." Harry sent a quick smile his way as he settled beside him, lying down on the towel.
His birthday had recently been a few days ago, making him officially a teenager. "I'm only older than you by a month."
"Still an old man." Harry smiled.
"Git." He lightly kicked his ankle.
Smiling, Harry laid his head on his hands and closed his eyes. Drips of water rolled down his body like sweat. Each drop that fell glistened and made Draco's stomach tumble.
The school year may be over, but the strangeness of it still followed him.
At thirteen, Draco decided there was nothing more horrendous than puberty. It was more horrible than the mountains of homework teachers assigned them during the school-year. It was something he was sure rivaled He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in villainy
He hated how powerless he was to the changes that plagued his body. How they changed things such as his perception of the world.
Before things were simple. Now? Everything was so weird.
Like now. His eyes decided to wander and now they were stuck, watching the beads of water roll off his best friend's body, heart pounding. When the last drop disappeared, his eyes traveled up, noticing Harry's lean frame, his collarbone, over his face that sharpened to early maturity but still had traces of childhood innocence, and finally to his lips that looked soft and colored a light shade of pink.
Draco had no idea how long he was staring until it occurred to him his name was being called for the third time in a row. His eyes were still watching the boy's pink lips. "Huh? What?"
Harry propped himself up with his elbows. Concern shone in those familiar green eyes. Draco forced himself to remain calm, despite the weird sensations stirring uneasily in his stomach as Harry's eyes narrowed a bit. "I said, are you alright? You look flustered."
The moment the word "flustered" left his best friend's fascinating lips, Draco felt the blood rushing to his face, coloring his cheeks. For the millionth time he wished his skin color wasn't so fair. "I'm fine," he said, though the words sounded weak even to his ears. He cleared his throat and pasted a smile on his face, one that became more genuine as Harry returned it. "Just glad second year's over."
Harry grinned. Draco wasn't surprised. The year may have been strange for him but for Harry, it was rough and hectic. Most of the students thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin after the snake incident, treating him like some kind of leaper. "Me, too."
He reached over for the cooler they've brought along with them, pulling out a green apple. Draco felt his stomach drop all the way down to his feet before pushing itself back up to its' rightful place as those pink lips curved around the apple, sharp teeth biting into the fruit. Pressure built down south of his body from hearing the soft but unmistakable moan that buzzed from Harry's lips as he swallowed the bite, watching the fruit slide down his slender throat.
Good God. Draco forced himself to remain calm, as if watching Harry eat an apple didn't make him jumpy.
Harry took another bite of the apple, one which produced the same soft moan, and offered it to Draco.
His left hand clutched tightly onto the towel. "No thank you."
Harry seemed surprised for a moment, but didn't question the refusal, shrugging it off easily and continuing to eat. All while his best friend was struggling with himself. Struggling with his eyes that continued to watch Harry's lips move, his face that continued to burn against his better judgment, his body that continued to churn the strange prickling feeling.
The awkwardness of puberty extended over to their friendship. Everything was the same but at the same time it wasn't. Yes, they were still best friends. Yes, Harry was still his and vice versa. And thanks to his confession, they were closer than they were before. Yet the relationship was tinged with a tense, rocky edge. Moments like this were proof of that. Since last summer, Draco had noticed the sudden shift in the air. A shift that commenced the second he caught sight of Harry's pale, bare skin while he was peeling away his layers of shirts. Since then, a war has been waged between his mind and his body for control whenever their hands brushed against each other and Draco felt that pull in his stomach. Whenever they hugged and a part of him wanted the moment to last longer, feeling so cold and almost empty when Harry broke the contact. Whenever their eyes met and that strange prick grew stronger in both volume and warmth.
This is ridiculous. Draco scowled. It's only hormones. Stupid, evil little buggers.
Severus' words resurfaced in his mind.
"The best cure for dealing with puberty is simply that: dealing. Accept the fact your body is changing. That you're changing. I assure you you'll only make matters worse if you try to fight it."
At the time Draco scoffed at the words, finding them useless. And now? He was beginning to see some logic in his words.
Puberty was an evil that couldn't be defeated. He was smart enough to realize there was no point in fighting against it, not when it already took over. He accepted the fact there was nothing he could do other than let Mother Nature have its' evil way with him. He could even accept the possibility that he was attracted to both sexes. However, what exactly should he do about the strangeness between him and Harry?
He stared at those pink lips, noticing their nice shape and soft appearance. He remembered how soft they were when…that thing happened. Course, it happened so fast, it was hard to decide whether it actually happened or if it was all in his head.
Suddenly, an idea came to him.
"Hey, Harry?"
"Yeah?" He took another bite of his apple, one that was bigger than the last one.
Draco, watching this, felt his cheeks warming up. He cleared his throat, trying to appear as casual as he could be. "Have you ever thought about experimenting?"
If Draco wasn't focused on going an answer, he could have taken a picture of how flushed Harry looked, those captivating greens widening at the question. He stopped at mid-bite, his eyes darting over to Draco. "You mean kissing?"
Heart pounding, Draco nodded. "With both sexes."
Warmth that had absolutely nothing to do with the sun flooded the boy's face, coloring his cheeks a bright shade of red. The color seemed to intensify when he looked up at Draco and quickly looked down at his apple, determined to keep his gaze there. Draco was pleased to see he wasn't the only flustered one. He was pleased more at the fact he was the cause behind Harry's flustering. "Well..sometimes."
A wave of pleasure washed over Draco. Casual, he reminded himself. Remain casual. "We could do it. Right now."
"You mean with each other?"
"No, with Uncle Sev," Draco ducked away from the apple-core Harry tossed at his head. "Yes, with each other, you silly git. We're all alone. It's not like anyone will see us."
The more Draco thought of the idea, the more he liked it. Since puberty struck him, thoughts of Harry with his pale skin and soft lips had been swimming across his mind. Maybe if he finally gave into curiosity, the strange thoughts would end and things would go back to normal.
Or as normal as things could be for two best friends just entering adolescence.
"Won't it be weird though?"
Harry's words stopped him cold like bucket of ice-water poured over his head.
Of all the questions Harry had to ask, that was one question Draco wasn't prepared for. Or one he expected to sting as much. "Why would it be weird?"
"Well…aren't we too close for that?" At the confusion written across Draco's usually mischievous face, Harry further explained. "Well, we've been best friends for a long time. Your parents treat me like a second son. And people say we act more like brothers than friends."
Brothers? Draco was amazed with how a simple name could cause such a deflation in his body, an odd, almost-annoying deflation.
It wasn't the first time the word have been thrown at them. Madame Malkin used the word both times they visited her shop for new robes, asking Harry to keep his "brother" under control. McGonagall had thrown word around, too, along with Granger and even their friends. Yes, they were close. Possibly even closer than normal best friends were. It was simply the way they were. Wherever one went, the other usually followed. They were rarely apart, and if they were they were quick to change that. And he suppose, given their close bond and what Harry said, with all intents and purposes they were like brothers.
Still, Draco hated the word. At least when it came to them. It sounded off. Not just off but wrong. Like a pair of shoes that were your exact size, in the right style, but still you felt uncomfortable when you slipped them on and had to walk in them.
"It's not like we're blood-related. It would only be weird if we were." Not that they were actual brothers if you asked him. "Besides," he added. "Like you said, we're best friends. Who better to practice something new with than someone you already know and trust?"
"True," Harry agreed, though a bit warily. "And we have kissed before."
Twice actually, an unwanted voice chimed in. Perhaps the peck should be counted as a half, but it had happened so fast Draco felt that it shouldn't. "Which is why it would be perfect. Even if you do have a girly-mouth, Potter."
"Shove it, Malfoy. At least I don't carry around a pocket-mirror to check my reflection thirty times a day."
"Git." Draco socked him in the arm. Harry laughed, returning the favor to him.
Harry decided to satisfy curiosity. With a slight nod, he sat up. Draco followed his example, facing him. He stood still and waited patiently for Draco to make the next move.
Draco swallowed a nervous lump that lodged itself in his dry throat.
Come on, Malfoy, he told himself. Don't be such a puss. This was his best friend, someone he trusted above all others. Someone, his subconscious reminded him, had kissed already. Twice. So why was this time so difficult? Why was he hesitating? Why, for the love of Merlin, couldn't he move already and put an end to his annoying hormones instead of thinking?
Goddamn puberty! They made things difficult. They made no sense. They-
Draco's stream of thoughts came to a halt as Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against his.
Great. Merlin.
Draco closed his wide eyes, lulled by the familiar sensation that flooded through their joint lips, spreading throughout their bodies, wrapping around them protectively like a warm cocoon. Just as he suspected, Harry's lips were still soft. Incredibly soft. Warm, too, like a nice cup of hot chocolate on a cold day. And they tasted like apples. For a few moments, the two friends stayed like this, upper bare bodies pressed close together, lips entwined, sharing breath with one another as they took their time with the kiss. Almost as if they needed to familiarize themselves with the taste that felt entirely and painstakingly new, despite the fact this wasn't the first time they were in this position.
Mine.
Harry was the first one to break the contact, easing back slightly to catch his breath. A sound emerged from Draco from the loss, almost like a whimper. Dazed, he leaned forward to the other boy as if there was an electric current between them, drawing him to Harry.
When their lips reconnected, both sighed as if they could breathe easier now. Whenever Harry pushed forward, Draco welcomed it, feeling like he was falling and flying at once. Whenever Harry pulled back, Draco followed him, not wanting the moment to end just yet. Harry kept leaning back and Draco followed him. It wasn't long before Harry was laid flat on the towel with Draco on top, their bodies pressed, curves and angles fitting easily into each other like pieces to a puzzle.
If either one felt discomfort, they didn't show it, falling deep under the spell of their joint lips. Harry laid his hand against Draco's cheek. Draco's fingers found a new home in Harry's hair, brushing against the wild, still-damp curls that were smooth to the touch.
Mine.
A noise, a moan of all things, broke through the silence. Where it came from, Draco had no idea. It could have been either one of them, or maybe they moaned at the same time. It didn't matter. It wasn't important. Nothing was more important than this moment, this feeling, this warmth. Delicious, addicting warmth.
Warmth that quickly exploded into flames as Harry's tongue slipped through his mouth and brushed against his tongue, igniting a fire that traveled down to Draco's center, uncontrollable and scorching fire.
MINE! The shriek was as wild, as desperate as the flames that licked every cell in his body, practically eating him alive.
With a gasp, Draco pulled back, mouth taking in needed gulps of air, mind spinning from what had just happened.
He certainly didn't remember anything like that when they were younger.
"Well," Harry said after a painfully long minute passed between them, the taint of awkwardness looming over them. "That was interesting."
Unable to trust his loose, burnt tongue from slipping, Draco nodded.
It took almost five whole seconds for Harry to look at him. His cheeks were two bright splotches of red. As bad was it, Draco was happy to see he wasn't the only one suffering. "So…"
"Yea…"
The looming awkwardness grew while the silence lengthen, stretching from seconds into minutes. Draco didn't remember anything close to that when they were younger. Back then, after they've kissed, they would stare at each other for a moment or two before they laugh and continue to where they left off. Now, it was hard to look each other in the eye without their faces burning up.
Draco wondered if Harry was right. Maybe it wasn't a good idea for them to try it. After all, when they were kids, they didn't realize what they were doing. To them, it was just another thing for them to do. Now evil puberty came by and made one more thing complicated.
"For what it's worth," Harry said, breaking the silence. "You…did well."
"Thank you," Draco nodded stiffly. "You, too."
"And it could have been worse."
Draco arched a confused brow. "How so?"
"Well, for one, you could have snogged Ron."
WHAT!?
Ron? Ron as in Ronald Weasley? The weasel?
It was the second time in a row Harry's words hit him like a douse of ice-water. Only this time, the water was disgusting as it was cold.
Stunned, Draco met his friend's eye, watching the glimmer of mischief dance across those emerald greens, his shock morphing to murderous anger. Harry saw the emotions shift in his eyes and wisely used the time to rise from his spot and ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
Unfortunately for Harry, Draco was the faster runner. "You better run, Potter, because I'm going to kill you when I get my hands on you."
Harry's laughter tore through the air, and, Draco, despite his anger at the joke and the disgusting image that joke caused, smiled.