AN: HELLO EVERYONE! I'm SO sorry for being absent for so long! I was stuck with my thesis and then my final exam so I really didn't have much time or motivation to go further with this little story :c
Anyway, I'm back with another chapter and I really hope you're going to like it!
Btw. don't worry, I am NOT going to abandon this story! If something changes and I decide I don't want to continue anymore then I will definitely let you know in the AN :)
As always, a big thank you (!) for reading this and let me know what you think about this chapter! Enjoy! :)
Harry stirred when the first rays of sunshine illuminated the room, their glow warming the back of his neck.
His brain had barely any time to wake up before thoughts of what had happened the previous night flooded his head. The ball, the empty classroom, Firewhiskey….
Will.
His breathing quickened at the memory of calloused hands pushing him onto a dusty desk and groping at him forcefully, pulse rushing in his ears but not loud enough to drown out the harsh words that had been thrown at him last night. The memory of the Ravenclaw's low, all but purring voice whispering into his ear while his hands grabbed onto Harry's hips made the Gryffindor feel sick, and he swallowed the acid tang at the back of his throat, feeling nauseous.
And then he remembered how it all had stopped the moment the door to the classroom opened, allowing some light into the darkness.
Draco…
Harry could feel the warmth of the blond's body, the other boy pressed against him, one lean arm draped over the Gryffindor's waist still holding him close.
Slowly, Harry opened his eyes, blinking the sleep away before fixing his gaze on a pair of silver orbs that had been already watching him.
Oh. Wasn't expecting that.
They both lay still, not talking but simply breathing, until Harry's uneven heartbeat slowed to match that of Draco's. For a moment he wondered how unusual it was; for most of the times, Harry's pulse would quicken in the Slytherin's presence, be it from anger or excitement. But now, the other's company had a strangely soothing effect on the Gryffindor.
With Draco, he felt…safe.
Harry allowed his still dazed eyes to slide along Malfoy's sharp jaw, taking in his delicate features, his pink lips and prominent cheekbones before they stopped right under Draco's own half-open eye. The Gryffindor furrowed his brows slightly at the sight of a rather large, dark blue spot covering the pale skin high on his left cheekbone, spreading along his temple to one elegant eyebrow. Then, he remembered how Draco had tackled Will to the ground the previous night, and how the two of them fought, wands forgotten. Apparently, Will must have thrown quite a punch at the blond, leaving a massive bruise in the process.
Without really thinking about it, Harry brought his hand up and let it rest on the side of Draco's face. Gently, he run his thumb over the undoubtedly aching spot, caressing it lightly enough, careful not to cause the other boy pain. He looked up immediately, searching for any signs of discomfort in Malfoy's face, but found none, the blond watching him with an unreadable expression. Harry returned his gaze to the bruise, following its edges and how it turned a deeper shade of blue, almost purple, right under the silver eye.
Tilting his head slightly, Harry leaned in and grazed the dark spot with his lips, so softly that Draco barely felt it. He then placed another gentle kiss on his cheek, then lower, on the corner of Malfoy's mouth, before finally pressing their lips together in a chaste, barely-there peck.
He pulled back, just enough to fix their gazes together.
Thank you.
He didn't have to say a thing and Malfoy knew anyway.
"Hey." Draco's voice was still hoarse from sleep, and his quiet murmur sent a shiver down Harry's back.
"Hey."
To Harry's surprise, Malfoy smirked slightly at his response, although it was a new kind of smirk that the Gryffindor hadn't yet seen on his face; less of a smirk and more of a curl of the corner of his mouth.
"How are you feeling?"
Harry blinked, staring into the grey orbs. Malfoy being this nice was not a common occurrence, even if Harry had started to suspect some time ago that he wasn't a total arsehole. And yet it still took the brunet by surprise whenever Malfoy seemed to care and, what was even more incredible, allowed himself to show it.
"Better," he murmured in response, looking away. He cleared his throat to sound less vulnerable. "I'll be fine." Even if he wasn't so sure about that.
He felt a slight pressure under his chin, prompting him to lift his gaze back to the silver pools. "You will." Harry almost gasped at what he found in the other's eyes. More reassuring than the words was the look Malfoy was giving him; a look full of unwavering certainty that spoke volumes. Draco wasn't dismissing his problems like he'd always done in the past; moreover, he believed in Harry.
"Yeah," the Gryffindor allowed himself a small smile. "I will."
This time it was Draco who leaned in, closing the almost non-existing gap between their faces right before capturing Harry's lips. He kept the kiss slow and gentle, not entirely sure if the brunet would respond at all, but he relaxed instantly when the Gryffindor tilted his head, silently asking to deepen the kiss. Draco obliged right away, swiping his tongue along parted lips before sliding inside the waiting mouth.
Harry let out a soft, contented sigh at the familiarity of the action, welcoming the intrusion and answering the caress. The hand he still kept on the side of Malfoy's face started to move on its own, fingers stroking the tender skin for a moment before dipping into silky, blond locks.
Suddenly, there was a loud sound of door being slammed, followed by an even louder yell.
"Honey, I'm home!" Zabini called, his voice as annoyingly cheerful as always.
Harry and Draco jumped in their spot, taken by surprise by the sudden noise, Malfoy's eyes rolling instantly at the remark made by his dorm mate.
"You here, Dray?"
Even though Harry's eyes were still wide from shock, he all but smirked at the Slytherin next to him, raising one eyebrow in question. 'Dray?' he mouthed, to which the blond squinted his eyes threateningly and gave a low growl.
"Where else would I be, idiot?" he called back, irritation apparent in his voice. Harry was impressed at how collected his voice sounded, considering that the Gryffindor himself was still fighting with his uneven breathing caused by the kiss they'd just shared.
"Oi, no need to be so rude, Draco," Zabini replied with amusement from somewhere behind the curtain. Harry heard rustling of clothes, and instantly thought he must have been changing form his Yule ball tux. "Haven't seen you all that much in the Great Hall," he mused, a cheeky note to his tone. For a moment, Harry wondered where Zabini had been the whole night.
Draco's voice brough him back to reality. "Yes, I've been busy."
"Oh, I don't doubt that." More shuffling somewhere on the other side of the room and then his overly satisfied voice reached them again. "How are you, Potter?"
Harry's eyes went wide, his pulse quickening at being caught. Again.
He looked at Malfoy, searching for advice as to how to proceed; with a sigh, he decided there was no point in pretending he wasn't there as Zabini sounded rather confident in his remark.
"How did you–"
"Oh please. One look at your Gryffindors searching for you for the last hour of the ball told me everything I needed to know."
Harry cursed under his nose. "Shit. I forgot. I should get back before they go to McGonagall and report me missing or something," he only half-joked.
"Easy. I told the Red Hair Witch they won't be seeing you till morning, probably. And here I am, infallible as always."
The Gryffindor frowned. "You talked to Ginny?"
"Well, talked is a big word. I caught her eye when the rest was asking some Hufflepuff about you, and from the look she gave me I gathered she knows about the two of you. So there, I gave her a rather knowing smirk and judging by her reply, she figured it out just fine."
Dammit.
"I'm pretty sure she's covering for you," Zabini said, and only then did Harry realize his voice was closer than before. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see how the Slytherin's face appear from behind the dark green curtain. "Anyway…" he paused when his gaze settled on Draco and frowned deeply. "Hey, what the hell happened to your face?"
Suddenly, Harry remembered the very reason he was there in the first place. He turned to look at Malfoy, who in turn shrugged, dismissing the question.
"Nothing."
"Like hell. What is it?"
"It's a bruise, idiot."
"I can see that, asshole. I'm asking about where you got that."
"None of your business, is it?" Draco muttered, a warning note in his voice.
Harry observed the two of them with strange fascination. He'd never seen them interact much, and to see that Zabini was just as aggressive as Malfoy when worried about his friend was…well, unexpected.
And then Zabini smirked, the glint of concern gone from his eye. "Did Potter finally punch you in that stupid face?"
Harry barely stopped himself from snorting before he remembered the actual cause of the painfully-looking bruise.
"I slipped under the shower, there. Now shut up and get gone."
Zabini raised a single eyebrow. "Like I'd believe that." When Malfoy remained silent – and pissed off – he sighed eventually. "Whatever," he dismissed in his usual, laid-back tone and turned to leave but stopped when his gaze slid over Harry's still clothed figure. He frowned in confusion, which only caused Harry to furrow his own brows as well. The Slytherin opened his mouth, as if to say something, but decided against and simply left, making his way back to his own bed.
The moment he heard a soft thump of a body hitting a mattress, Harry turned back to Malfoy. The blond caught his gaze with a silent question.
"I better go,' he said, keeping his voice down to avoid being heard by Zabini.
"I cast the silencing spell, it's alright to talk," Malfoy replied, nodding at his wand that now lay on the other side of the bed, next to his hip.
Contemplating his options for a moment, Harry finally shuffled closer to the Slytherin, reducing the distance they'd created when Draco's friend entered the dorm. Harry's teeth worried his bottom lip before he finally dared to fix their gazes together.
"You're not gonna…tell anyone, right?" he asked, his voice quiet even though he knew nobody would hear them.
"No," Draco said simply. "Although I think you should," he added after a moment.
Harry shook his head lightly. "I can't. There's no point, anyway. Nothing happened, after all."
He almost flinched at how Malfoy's darkened suddenly at his statement. "Nothing hap-…You know what, you will do whatever you're alright with, but don't think that it was nothing. As for me, I think you should tell Dumbledore, for once."
"No. Absolutely not." Harry couldn't imagine that; one, how Dumbledore would react, and two who else he would tell to keep Harry safe. He didn't want to sound like an ungrateful brat, but the thought of anyone else knowing how vulnerable and pathetic he had been at that moment made him nauseous.
"I'm just saying. He would throw that piece of trash out of here."
"No. I can handle it on my own."
Malfoy shrugged lightly, as if saying 'Your choice' before another long minute filled with silence settled between them. Finally, the Slytherin decided to close the gap between their faces once again and leaned in to seal their lips together. The kiss was unhurried, lips brushing against each other gently, until they were both in need for air.
When they separated, Harry let out a quiet sigh.
"I really need to go."
Draco nodded to that, leaning back to rest against his pillows. Harry watched him for a brief moment and sent him a small smile before he slipped off the bed.
"See you later, yeah?"
Again, Malfoy restricted himself to a single nod.
Harry didn't know the blond had to clench his jaw tight to prevent himself from saying 'Be careful on your way back' out loud.
From the moment the door closed behind the Gryffindor, Malfoy could feel Zabini's gaze on himself. Despite his best efforts to ignore the other Slytherin, the annoying prickling at the back of his head wouldn't go away and Draco's irritation was growing with every minute before it finally reached its apogee.
With a pretentious sigh, he turned his head from the desk he was sitting at and sent Zabini a glare. To his surprise, his dormmate only smirked, then pushed himself off his bed and slowly walked towards the blond, leaning against the wooden table.
"What do you want?" Malfoy asked, done with hiding his irritation.
Zabini's smirk widened, white teeth flashing from behind his stretched lips. "Well?"
Draco raised an eyebrow. His patience was really wearing off at this point. "Well what, Zabini?"
The brunet shrugged. "I thought you two were just fucking around."
That got Malfoy's attention. He fixed his face into an unimpressed grimace.
"And?"
"Well, I didn't think it was something serious."
An uneasy feeling started to coil in Draco's belly, but his features remained just as indifferent.
"That's because it's not."
"Obviously."
In a sudden wave of emotion, Malfoy rose up, feeling a pressing need to diminish the height difference between the two of them, as if the movement would give him any sort of advantage over the other Slytherin. "What the fuck are you on this time?"
Again, he was answered with an innocent shrug. "I'm just saying."
Malfoy's eyes squinted warningly. "Wherever you got the impression that it's different than what it is?"
Zabini chuckled, which only caused Malfoy's blood to boil inside him. "Maybe the fact that you aren't just fucking when he's here?" he asked, resting his hand upon Draco's shoulder. "Come on, just now, you two were snuggled up on your bed. With your clothes on. You're not gonna convince me that…"
Malfoy yanked his arm away almost violently. He felt panic rising inside him; he could not let anyone know – no, think – that he and Potter were something more than two rivals they'd been since the day they'd met all those years ago, with the slight difference that now they occasionally fucked each other.
No. He fucked Potter. He took pleasure from the Gryffindor, he decided where and how and what they were.
At least that's what he was trying to convince himself to.
He leaned into Zabini's face with a dangerous scowl. "I don't have to convince you to a damn thing, Zabini," he hissed. "I'm fucking him. That's it. He's a good mouth and moans like a little bitch for me. That's what he is, a bloody fuck toy. Understood?"
Zabini didn't answer. Instead, he watched Malfoy with scrutiny that made Draco feel the knot in his stomach tightening. "Does he know that's all it is?" he asked finally.
Face just as impassive, Malfoy provided a quick answer. "I don't give a shit about what he thinks, his problem if he imagines he's more than a good fuck."
Another long moment passed in silence. Neither of them was used to the degree of tension that accompanied their conversation, but both refused to twitch a single muscle and reveal the slightest trace of emotion.
True Slytherins, if you will.
Finally, Zabini sighed, raising both hands up in surrender.
"Alright, alright. Don't get so pissed off, Draco."
Malfoy relaxed instantly, but his silver eyes stayed narrowed. "I'm not. I'm just making sure you're not deluded by your false assumptions."
With a slight shake of his head, Zabini pushed himself off the desk and walked past Melfoy. "Yeah, whatever," he said, returning to his bed.
Malfoy fell back onto his chair, cursing under his nose. He should feel relieved, shouldn't he?
He should.
Then why in the world was he feeling this uncomfortable tightening in his chest?