Harry awoke the next morning bright and early, unable to contain his excitement for the day ahead. The only downside was the pounding headache that was present in each parietal lobe, clearly the remnants of firewhiskey and butterbeer. Harry pressed through the pain, dressing and sneaking past the rest of the gang. They all seemed to be snoring or otherwise immobile, still mildly comatose from the night before. Harry made his way to breakfast, greeted only by Hermione at the Gryffindor table.

"How are you feeling?" She asked genuinely.

"Not too bad," he responded, eyes grazing the Slytherin table to find that the blonde was absent thus far. "And you?"

"I've been better," she admitted, smiling wryly. "I'm not used to staying up with you guys, but I must say I did have a good time."

"Me, too, 'Mione. It meant so much to me, what you all did last night. I guess what I'm trying to say is, thank you." He took a bite of his short stack after drowning it in maple syrup.

"It was Ron's idea. But I pitched in, so, you're welcome." Her mouth turned up at the edges, a warm expression alive in her hazel brown eyes. "Harry," she continued, taking him by surprise. "You seem to be feeling better than yesterday. I'm glad."

Harry took a sip of his juice. Damn, Hermione was observant. He nodded. "I am."

For a while, she didn't say anything, but gazed at him knowingly. She appeared to be contemplating something, and Harry's heartbeat quickened at the prospect of her somehow aware of his secret. After a few seconds, however, her gaze shifted back to her breakfast. "Where do you want to go first today?"

When Harry gave her a puzzled face, she continued. "It's a Hogsmeade weekend; aren't you going with Ron and me?"

"Oh yeah," he picked at his eggs, avoiding her stare. "About that." After a moment of silence, he lifted his eyes to see hers peering at him skeptically.

"I'm, uh, not going to be able to make it."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was an underlying air of playfulness beneath the gesture. She inhaled, folding her hands upon her lap in preparation for what she was about to confess.

"Harry, I know about you and Malfoy."

Harry's eggs fell from his open mouth, slapping against the plate with a thud that interrupted the utter silence. He didn't move, complete shock overcoming his senses. After what felt like an eternity, Hermione spoke:

"It's ok, Harry. I've known for a while. Nobody told me; I just sort of figured it out. I'm not going to tell anyone."

Harry slowly nodded, unable to speak.

"If you want my opinion, I'll have you know that I think it's risky. I know that Malfoy is a different person now; anyone with a brain can see that. And if you're happy, I'm happy. It's been nice seeing you smile, and I hope you two have worked through whatever occurred between you the past couple of days. Just, be careful, Harry." A look of concern crossed her face. "I fear that if Voldemort, or any of his followers for that matter, get ahold of this information... it could end badly for both of you."

Harry gulped, trying to process everything. "I know. I know it's risky. I tried to break things off for that reason. But, Hermione, I just can't stay away from him."

Hermione smiled softly. "I know. And maybe that's not such a bad thing." She reached across the table and took Harry's hands. "You have my support."

Harry returned her smile, giving both hands a squeeze. "Thank you, Hermione. It means a lot."

She released his hands, straightening up in her seat. "I won't tell Ronald, but you know that when you do decide to let him in on this, it's not going to be pretty." Harry sighed. He hadn't given the situation much thought, but he knew that his best friend was correct in her prediction. Ron was his best mate; a damn good friend at that. But when it came to matters of Malfoy ("that bloody Farrett," according to Ron), he tended to be close minded.

"I guess we'll cross that bridge once we get there," Harry stated, picking up his eggs once more.

"I'll just have to knock some sense into him then." Hermione winked and returned to her own breakfast. Harry could feel himself physically relax at Hermione's acceptance. He hadn't realized how much it was bothering him to not have her know, and her blessing was everything.

A few minutes later, Harry was finishing up His meal when the door to the Great Hall opened to reveal the rest of the Gryffindor clan. As a group, they appeared exhausted, sickly, and, well, hungover. Ron took a seat next to Hermione and the others filed in behind him.

"Sorry we left you on the couch, mate," was his tired greeting. "We tried to wake you, I swear. But you were not having it."

"I was going to mark your face, but Ron told me not to. Said you'd been through enough already," Seamus piped in with a snicker.

"Well, thanks for that, Ron," Harry added, and Ron lifted his orange juice as if to say "no problem." At that moment, the doors opened once more to reveal just who Harry had been anticipating all along.

Draco Malfoy appeared surprisingly well rested and chipper. There was a pep in each step to the Slytherin table, and Harry wondered how in the hell he could make a hangover look so good. His eyes flashed up to meet the Gryffindor's, and he gave a charming smile before taking his seat. God, how that smile could melt him to the core. Harry's stomach fluttered, amazed at the fact that someone so perfect could possibly be called his own.

Harry was able to convince Ron that his hangover was kicking his arse enough to keep him from Hogsmeade. After his friends departed, Harry headed for the grand staircase. The halls were mostly empty; with the exception of the younger students, most of the school participated in Hogsmeade trips. There, perched against the side of the stairs with a half eaten apple in hand, was Draco Malfoy. At the sight of his boyfriend, he lit up and extended his other hand forward. The area appeared to be vacant, and Harry placed his left hand into Draco's. Immediately, he was pulled into an embrace.

"Ive missed you," whispered Draco, and Harry felt a warm sensation trickle from his head to his toes. He smiled stupidly, aware of the pricking sensation Draco had instilled all over his body with the slightest touch.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Draco took one last bite of his apple before discarding it and reached into the pocket of his jumper. He pulled out a small flask that contained a bright liquid the color of amethyst. "I figured you might need this after last night."

Harry retrieved the container, shaking it slightly. "What is it?"

"It's my specialty." Draco grinned impishly. "It'll cure your hangover, if you have one."

Harry's eyebrows perked up in interest. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it. Should've paid closer attention in potions, Potter."

"Snape never taught us how to cure a hangover, Draco." He retorted doubtfully.

"No, but he did teach us the properties of worm root and all of the other ingredients I put in this gem." He winked wickedly, and Harry took a swig. Immediately, he spurted the liquid, spitting it toward the floor in both shock and distaste.

"This tastes like complete shite!" Harry wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

"Well, what'd you expect it to taste like? Everything has to balance in magic. Cure your hangover? Get ready to swallow shite." Harry tilted his head expectantly before taking another shot.

"It burns." He commented, but was able to keep it down. Soon after, a cool sensation began to flood through his veins, traveling upward toward his vena cava. It pumped slowly, reaching the edges of every cell that fueled his body. He noticed it creep along his carotids next and inch across his scalp, curing his headache instantly. Whatever Draco had concocted, it worked.

Harry shook his head and blinked a few times before handing the bottle back to him. "Wow. I feel much better now, thanks."

Draco confiscated the flask and looked up to meet Harry. "So, are you ready for our date?"

A feeling of exuberance invaded Harry. Had he actually planned an official date for the two of them? The entire situation seemed unreal.

"Yes, of course. What are we doing?"

With a grin, Draco began to walk past him toward the direction of the castle entrance. Harry's curiosity was ebbing, and as Draco approached the exit, it donned on him that he should follow.

"Draco! Wait up!" He called, but the blonde was already exiting the large wooden doors that lead to the castle grounds. He had to jog to catch up and found himself almost panting by the time Draco had stopped. They were at the edge of the grounds, around the backside of the castle. Draco stood wordlessly, facing the vast openness of Scotland that surrounded them. Exasperated, Harry placed a hand on his shoulder and matched his gaze to the group of mountains ahead of them. It truly was serene, peaks of snow dotting a cloudless blue sky among valleys of green below. He found himself better able to appreciate the landscape with Draco next to him. Each color popped with a vibrance he had never noticed; the songs of nearby birds were tunes that spoke to him personally. The sunlight was brighter than it'd ever been before as it reflected from Draco's platinum hair. He turned to face Harry, that infamous smile playing on his lips.

"Accio your broom, Harry," he started, eyes sparkling with excitement. "We're going to fly."

Flying with Draco had to be one of the most exhilarating experiences Harry had ever been given the pleasure of living through. They began low, cruising steadily across the terrain. Draco reached for Harry's hand and held it, arms extended toward each other and brooms side by side. The wind rushed past them as they descended into an approaching valley. There was a relatively small stream ahead that wound through the landscape, and they found themselves treading a few feet above water. Harry reached his remaining hand for the stream, splashing Draco in the face lightheartedly. His first reaction was sheer ire, muttering something about "what it takes to get this hair" before impishly grinning and splashing him back. Draco wasted no time, leaving Harry sopping with one attempt. Startled, he slowed down slightly and wiped his glasses clean while laughing at his own misfortune. Everything had always boiled down to a competition between those two, from quidditch to friendships to, well, splashing. Harry raced forward to catch up with Draco, who'd already flown a few meters ahead. As he closed the distance between them, Draco took a sharp turn upward and began tracing the mountainside. Their brooms were now perpendicular to the ground, and Harry grinned as the wind whipped against his hair and face. There was something special about flying like this; it was as if all of his worries remained fixed to the ground. Here, suspended in mid air, he could pretend that he wasn't the Chosen One. He was just Harry, and Malfoy was just Draco, and nothing else existed except the two of them. Together.

"Where are we going?" Harry yelled ahead of him, projecting his voice to reach Draco mid-air.

"You'll see! It's not much farther," was the response, and the two continued in this motion. It wasn't long before Draco steadied his broom, leveling out so that it was parallel to the ground. He began to follow the edge of the mountainside, which tapered off to form a cliff just up ahead. Harry stayed behind him, unsure of which direction they would be heading but trusting Draco completely. After a few meters, he veered right, taking them over the edge of the cliff so that they were suspended over land. Draco came to a halt, and Harry nearly stumbled into him at the unexpected stop. Beyond them was a clearing, lined with yellow-green grass that swayed freely with the breeze. Along the middle of the open field was a small stream, complete with clear water that trickled over a series of rocks. Even farther ahead was a collection of dense pine trees that formed a deciduous forest. Above them, the silhouette of a mountain peak contrasted against a bright blue sky. Harry was breathless, unaware that a place so serene, so inconspicuous to the world around it, existed.

Draco, still hovering on his broom, pivoted to face the direction from which they'd flown.

"You can see the castle from here," he informed Harry, who turned to match his position. The other direction provided a view that was just as spectacular. In the distance was Hogwarts, bordered by the Forbidden Forest and the terrain they had just crossed.

"Wow," Harry commented, unable to find words. "How did you find this place?"

"I came across it at the beginning of term," Draco confessed. "I was particularly torn up that day, and I needed an escape. So I went flying. I've been coming here every so often just to clear my head." He lowered his broom, touching ground before dismounting. Harry followed in his foot steps, joining him as he took a seat near the stream.

"It's perfect, Draco. This place, it's like it's straight from a post card."

"A what?" Draco glanced at Harry, puzzled. Harry chuckled.

"Never mind. It's a muggle thing."

Draco scoffed jokingly and relaxed backward, resting his head on the earth. He folded his hands and placed them behind his head, making himself comfortable. Closing his eyes, Draco seemed oddly at peace. Harry wasn't used to seeing him like this, and it was both satisfying and nerve wracking to witness him in this state. A part of Harry could sit there and watch him all day, his angelic features sculpted against a perfect landscape. The other piece of him longed to reach out and touch him, to physically claim him and become one with him in every way possible. Harry blushed at the thought, and then laid back to join him.

"Are you hungry?" Asked Draco, hardly moving a muscle. The question almost startled Harry; it seemed surreal that such an average concern could come from him in this angelic state.

"Um, yes, I suppose so," he replied, taking notice of his appetite for the first time since they'd met that day. Draco opened his eyes, sitting up and reaching into his back pocket. He retrieved a small maroon pouch with gold strings and proceeded to unlace it. Harry watched him intently as he reached his arm inside, extending it father and deeper until his entire limb was swallowed within.

"An undetectable extension charm," Harry observed as Draco pulled out two sandwiches, a few apples, and several wrapped packages of cobbler. Draco nodded, reaching a bit further and revealing a checkered picnic blanket that he spread out before them. He gestured his arm forward, signaling Harry to take a seat.

They both became settled, unwrapping sandwiches and taking bites. Flying had taken more out of him than he initially thought, and Harry scarfed down his sandwich ravenously.

"Hermione uses those charms as well," Harry continued, "To carry extra text books. She's quite good at them, actually."

Draco gaped sarcastically. "What!? Granger uses an illegal charm? She does know it's illegal, right?"

Harry laughed. "Yes, she knows. She's not as much of a goody two shoes as you would think."

"I'm pretty sure I just gained a new level of respect for Granger. She seems to be getting more badass by the day." Harry shook his head at Draco's playful acceptance. His expression became serious as he remembered breakfast.

"She knows. About us."

Without so much as a flinch, Draco nodded. "I figured she did. I could tell she had something on her mind in arithmancy the other day. The only conclusion I could draw was that she'd somehow figured it out for herself."

"She did." Harry paused, searching for a reaction from Draco. He came up empty. "Are you upset?"

Draco shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not." He lowered his sandwich and met eyes with Harry. "When we were apart, I kept envisioning us being together, publicly. I could hold your hand, and sit with your stupid friends. We didn't care what anyone thought, and it was nice. I wish more than anything that it could be a reality."

"Me too," Harry replied softly, drinking in the truthfulness of his words.

"I know that Granger would never betray you. So I know that for the moment, our secret is safe. As long as she doesn't tell the ginger, we should be fine."

Harry grimaced, reminded once more that Ron was still in the dark. He sighed. "She promised she wouldn't tell him. We both know he wouldn't take it quite as well as she did. She says that we have her support."

Draco smiled appreciatively. "More badass by the minute, I say." Harry returned the grin and went back to the remains of his cobbler.

"Where'd you get this food, anyway? It's delicious."

"I paid Dobby a visit after breakfast this morning. He was more than willing to help me take you on a proper date." He winked, and Harry nearly melted.

"This is wonderful, Draco. Thank you."

"It's not over yet." He smirked, but his eyes were innocent and hopeful. He genuinely wanted Harry to enjoy himself.

After finishing lunch, the two laid side by side on the blanket, separated physically but ever closer emotionally. The silence was comforting, but Harry had an agenda. He wanted to get to know Draco Malfoy. All of his ins and outs; his fears and memories. He rolled onto his side to face him, propping his head against his own hand.

"So, when did you figure out that you were nothing like your family?"

Draco's gaze was distant as he contemplated the answer. "It was a long time coming, but I really began to question everything over summer break, while my father was in Azkaban." He paused, resting his eyes shut for a moment before continuing.

"My mother was a completely different person after his imprisonment. I thought she would be a wreck, kind of like I was yesterday. But she wasn't."

Harry's focus was undeniably fixed on him.

"She was... liberated. Her posture softened. She spoke more. It was... it was actually very nice." He opened his eyes and met Harry's.

"That's when I realized just how fucked up my father really was. Because I felt myself relax, too. I should've been angry, and I was at first, but after everything settled... I felt free."

Harry placed a hand on top of Draco's as he continued his story.

"Things were the greatest they'd ever been. There was no mention of the Dark Lord while he was gone, at least not in the house. I didn't have to fear my words. I didn't have to worry about getting cursed if he happened to be in a bad mood. I could just... live. And that's when I started to wonder how things were really going to end up with the Dark Lord in power."

He ran his thumb along the back of Harry's hand, tracing gentle circles while he spoke.

"I realized that the way my dad treated me; it was wrong. And He Who Must Not Be Named... from the stories, he's much worse. I didn't deserve to be abused. And neither do the muggleborns. And I think I just sort of started to see myself in them."

Harry could feel his heart filling with joy. To hear these words from Draco... it meant everything.

"I made a vow to distance myself from him. To not allow myself to be hurt by his prejudice. Even if I had to... endure his fury, I didn't have to let it affect me. When he was released, it was horrible. My mother... she didn't even kiss him. She was afraid. I always thought that they were just... reserved in their feelings, but I was wrong."

He picked up his hand and laced their fingers.

"It was just like before he'd left. Like a blanket had settled upon the house that was slowly suffocating us. It was him." He paused once more, focusing on their intertwined hands before snapping his gaze upward to meet Harry's.

"He used the Cruciatus on me, Harry." His eyes were wide with truth, revealing a secret that he'd kept buried deep thus far.

Harry's jaw dropped; his brow narrowed; he felt the color flush from his face.

"Wh-why?! What reason could he have had to possibly-"

"I wasn't trying hard enough to emancipate him."

Harry grew silent, a sea of emotions flooding the surface. He inhaled, composing himself.

"I had no idea, Draco."

"I know. Not many did. That's the point, you know. That's how they maintain control." He began to finger a piece of grass with one of his loosely woven fingers.

"And I thought the Dursley's were bad..." His statement was hushed, barely above a whisper.

Draco's eyes abruptly met his own.

"What are they like?"

Harry dove into stories of the cupboard he called his bedroom, the neglected meals, the punishments consisting of locked doors and barred windows.

"It's different for me, though," he assured Draco, whose look of concern was enough to eat him alive. "They don't bother me. I mean, sure, they're horrible people, and I don't particularly like being there, but... they're not my parents. I don't expect love from them. I've learned to survive without that." Draco nodded in understanding.

"When I came to Hogwarts, it made it easier. I made friends. Here, I was somebody. And I don't just mean for this." He pointed to his scar. "People showed me the affection that I didn't realize I was missing. Life got easier. The Dursley's became more tolerable."

He glanced down at ground beside him, a smile forming on his lips as his thoughts continued.

"Even you made life easier, as much as we argued. I knew that I was important to you, even though you didn't like me. Important enough to hate. That helped."

He picked his own blade of grass as Draco chuckled. "Glad I could be of service to you, Potter."

A grinning Harry locked eyes with him.

"So, Draco. I have a question to ask you."

Silver eyes burned with authenticity. "Sure. Anything."

"What's your favorite ice cream?"

Draco laughed, really laughed, at Harry's lighthearted innocence.

"Strawberry, of course. Do I seem daft?"

Harry dramatically grimaced.

"Nasty! Everyone knows vanilla's the best."

"You would. You're savage, you know."

Harry smiled affectionately. They really were polar opposites, and yet... they were exactly alike. The playful bickering made him reminiscent of older times and budding rivalries.

"Okay. Tell me your hobbies." Harry's attention was focused solely on the boy before him, drawing in his reaction to quench the thirst for knowledge.

"Hobbies?" He laughed to himself. "Malfoy's don't have hobbies. We're too busy... being adults."

"You're right. Malfoy's don't. But you do. Come on! What do you like to do for fun?"

"Other than terrorize you?"

"Yes, silly. Other than provoke me for 6 years."

"To be honest, Harry, I'm not sure. I mean..." He unlaced their fingers and placed both hands behind his head, losing himself in the cyan sky.

"I love the stars. They make me feel...alive. I love flying. Quidditch is fun, but only if the company's good." He contemplated further.

"I like to read. And, believe it or not, I love potions. I could study it for hours..."

Harry cocked his head, curious. "Are you thinking of... you know, becoming a potions master?"

"I haven't given a lot of thought to life after Hogwarts. I've been brainwashed into believing that my only purpose in life is to serve the Dark Lord. Now that I've rebelled, I suppose my main focus should be on staying alive."

"You don't have to tell me twice." Harry sympathized easily, gazing at the crisp blue sky that had seemed to darken just a few shades.

"Maybe we can become hermits together? We'll move to the mountainside, herd goats or something..."

Harry spewed his own saliva at the audacity of such a plan. "Please. Draco Malfoy herd sheep? Did you just say that?"

Draco snickered. "Okay, Okay. You're right. Maybe no sheep. On the other hand, maybe we could..."

His sentence trailed off as he realized that all of his plans now included Harry. What a rash, presumptuous idea. Not wanting to face the consequences of rejection, he quickly decided to change the subject.

Turning on his own side, he turned to the Chosen One. "Your turn, Potter. Hobbies."

Harry smiled softly, trying not to overthink the abrupt change in subject.

"Beating you at Quidditch, of course."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"I love adventure. One day, I'd like to travel the world."

"That'd be awfully boring by yourself, you know." The sentence had left Draco's parted lips before he could swallow it.

"It would. It really would."

They laid there in silence like that for a while, gazing at the sky. Harry's expression was soft and contemplative as he envisioned a life with Draco. Together. Without the darkness ensuing. He then became reflective, broaching on memories of their lives together thus far.

"So much wasted time." He muttered unthinkingly. Draco, whose thoughts had found the same space, stifled a giggle.

"Not wasted, Potter. We couldn't have come this far without hating each other first; I truly believe that." Draco's eyes were humorous as he rolled onto his side once more.

"But, come to think of it..." he continued thoughtfully, "I think you liked me all along and were just too chicken to show it." He winked.

Potter rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. I was head over heels for you when you made those Potter Stinks badges in fourth year."

"Those were bloody brilliant, you have to admit!"

"EVERYONE had one! I swear I was beginning to think I stunk myself I saw so many of them. I even threw one at Ron's head once."

Draco snickered playfully, but a look of seriousness crossed his face as green eyes met gray. "I'm sorry I was such an arse back then."

Harry's expression was coy, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips playfully. "You're still an arse. But I love you anyway."

He immediately froze. He hadn't meant to let that word slip out, but it had rolled from his tongue naturally. It was a moment before he realized that he'd stopped breathing, all of his attention fixed on the face before him. Harry searched for a grimace, any sign that he had fucked up, but it never came. Instead, Draco came closer, leaning his face toward Harry's until their lips met gently. This kiss wasn't forced, or urgent; it was giving, patient, and kind. It was an understanding that here, on the side of a mountain, it was them against the world. Draco and Harry; Malfoy and Potter; alone in their little piece of heaven.

All that could be heard was the soft trickle of the stream when Draco pulled back briefly, silver irises flushing green. "I love you, too, Potter."

A tingling sensation was present from the crown of Harry's head to the tip of his toes. A feeling of complete serenity washed over him at the sound of Draco's words. He'd never felt so light, like a feather carried by the wind, and he was giddy with liberation. He broke into a toothy grin, unable to contain himself.

Draco matched him, that favorite smile of Harry's plastered across his face. And then they were kissing again, Harry's palms taking hold of either side of Draco's cheek bones. His fingers were wrapped in locks of blonde hair, grasping the boy he found himself to be hopelessly in love with. Draco's own hands had become tangled around Harry, placed delicately on either side of his spine. There was a slip of tongue from Draco's mouth to Harry's, which was lusciously reciprocated. Harry was beside himself, snogging the boy who- oh my god -he'd just told he loved and, Merlin, was this really happening?

Draco was floating on a cloud, weightless but anchored to this moment. He knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that Harry was it for him. There would be no other, as long as he lived. Here, wrapped tightly against the raven haired boy was a surreal dream that had somehow become a reality he would refuse to let go.

Draco's hands descended until they lay on either side of Harry's waist, resting just above his pants line. Harry slid his own palms down the surface of Draco Malfoy, feeling every dip and curve of his body until they reached the tail of his shirt. Fearlessly, his hands slid beneath the fabric, and he greedily began to discover the smoothness of his bare chest. His fingers grazed across Draco's nipples, which felt tight with anticipation. A shudder ran down Draco's spine at the contact, and he responded by sliding around to the front of Harry's pants. Ripe with longing, Harry slid his own hands lower, lower, until they reached Draco's hip bones. Feeling adventurous and confident, he rolled his body on top of Draco's and quickly flashed him a smile. Draco's breath was heavy and quick with desire as Harry bent forward and began biting softly against the surface of his neck. Lifting Draco's shirt, he then planted kisses along the nakedness of his chest and abdomen. Pleasure did not even begin to cover the hormonal state that Draco was in, and he found himself squirming against Harry. Unable to control himself, Draco spun over and rolled them so that he was on top. From this view, he could appreciate Harry from a whole new perspective. He truly was beautiful, and Draco possessively pressed his own body against him. It was his turn to tempt, and he started by slowly running his hands beneath Harry's shirt. Continuing to lock their lips, Draco's hands found the zipper of Harry's pants and began to blindly unfold them. Pulling apart his jeans, Draco felt the loose cotton of Harry's shorts along his fingertips. Recognizing what was beneath, Draco meant to slip a hand in the front opening of his shorts, but then...

"Did you feel that?" Draco paused, sure he had felt something wet hit the back of his neck.

"No, what is it?" Harry looked concerned, and Draco shook his head. He must've imagined it. Trying to resume the moment, he leaned forward to press his lips to Harry's. But then he felt it again, this time on his right shoulder. Separating, he glanced up at the sky. What was once cloudless had become scattered with puffs of gray, the most of which were hovering right above them.

"Oh, no, Harry, I think it's-" Draco was interrupted by the loud clap of thunder followed by an immediate downpour. The rain was pounding down heavily, released in sheets that made it hard to see. Puddles quickly began forming around them, cultivated by the storm that appeared from no where. Draco sighed, already sopping wet.

"Come on, let's go before the lightning starts!" He called to Harry over the combined sound of rain, thunder, and wind. The temperature had seemed to drop a few degrees, and Draco shivered as he helped Harry to his feet. Zipping his pants hastily, Harry mounted his broom and took off southward with Draco. Rain of this magnitude made flying difficult; the wind caused the broom to shift direction while the water made it hard to grip. They traced the path from which they'd come, returning to the castle soaked. The ran let up significantly upon entering the school grounds; it was barely drizzling now. Certainly not enough to cause anyone to leave Hogsmeade, Harry realized with relief. It seemed that even in their current damp state, they would still have some time alone together while remaining unseen.

Dripping and chilled to the bone, Draco was about to cast a drying charm on himself when Harry put a hand on the tip of his wand. Lowering it, Draco gave him a questioning look.

"You know what works better than those quick fix charms? A hot shower." Draco nodded, giving him a look that said "obviously" before he got the hint. His eyes widened at Harry's subtle suggestion, and he nodded again, willing.

"I know the password to the prefect bathroom," Harry offered, "and all of the prefects should be at Hogsmeade for a while longer..." he trailed off, suddenly shy.

Draco squeezed his hand. "Take me there."

The entrance to the prefect's washroom creaked as the duo made passage. They hadn't spoken much; there was a heaviness between them composed of nervousness and anticipation. This was all new territory for both of them, undiscovered terrain that only hands could explore. Harry led the way, approaching a large open shower lined with the same stone that built the castle walls. Stepping inside, he noticed the sheer size of the area before he felt a hand grasp his bicep lightly. He turned to face Draco, whose expression was humble. Harry took a moment to appreciate his appearance; platinum hair sticking up at the edges uncharacteristically, shirt untucked and clinging to him in all the right places. There was something intimate about seeing Draco this way, unkempt and raw.

Harry wanted nothing more than to share with him the closeness he felt, and he stepped forward with the intent on doing so. Draco met him halfway, the same serious expression adorning his face. He clearly felt the connection as well, sparks invisibly igniting the air between them. Draco reached his hands forward, gripping the base of Harry's shirt silently. He pulled it upward, gliding superiorly until it was slipped over his head and was tossed onto the floor beside them.

Draco swooned at shirtless Harry, his long torso blending into the "v" of his groin. Harry returned the favor, starting at the top and unbuttoning his way down Draco's shirt. His eyes never left Draco's, holding them steadily while his chest became slowly exposed. At the last button Harry shrugged the shirt from his shoulders, and Draco immediately pressed against him. The intimacy of skin upon skin was indescribable. Chills ran down Harry's spine, shaking him to the core. His instincts began to take control as he felt his prick harden beneath his waistline. And then they were kissing again, except this time there was an air of urgency, of desire and passion burning between them. Draco's hands flew to Harry's belt and began unfastening without further delay. He yanked them downward, revealing the plaid of Harry's shorts in between panting breaths that were all but exhausted. Harry took it upon himself to kick his pants off the rest of the way, awkwardly stumbling a bit in the process as he removed his shoes and socks. Draco smiled, in love with this corky bastard who- Merlin- he'd never seen stripped down to just his boxers. It was intoxicating, being with Harry, especially when he could feel his prick stiff against the leg of his pants. Harry sensed it as well and didn't hesitate to unfasten Draco's trousers, breaking their kiss to lower himself so that he could do the honors of sliding them to the floor. Draco gasped as Harry paused at his shorts, placing a kiss on the black fabric in the area of the tent that had clearly been pitched. As he did this, his hands removed the pants from each ankle. Draco kicked off his shoes simultaneously, and all that remained was the two of them almost naked in the shower. Without breaking Draco's gaze, Harry reached for the faucet and turned the warm water on. Before stepping under the fountain, there was a silent understanding of what had to happen next. With a small nod from both sides, Draco and Harry proceeded to unclothe themselves at the same time. Harry tossed his boxers along the wall and stepped toward Draco, who was gaping at the sight of naked Harry. They were close now, but not touching, and Draco took the opportunity to remove Harry's glasses for him. Somehow, the gesture was intimate, and Harry without his glasses was too much for Draco to handle. He sat them folded onto the ledge of the nearest wall, never breaking Harry's gaze. Harry extended his hand and led Draco beneath the water, pulling him close until their bodies were touching. The stream poured over them, transforming hair into wet strands and traveling in beads that tinged pale skin into heated pink. Steam was beginning to cloud around them, and Draco brought Harry in for a series of kisses. The warm sensation of the water on their faces felt nice, but not quite as nice as the slick feeling of wet bodies pressed against one another. Harry's erection was pressing into Draco's thigh, and he adjusted his hips so that their pricks grazed each other. Draco moaned immediately, returning the motion with a forward slip of his pelvis. Harry took a moment to bite his bottom lip softly, all the while moving his hands to grip Draco's arse protectively. That was his arse, and his Draco, and, God, he was so close, Harry could barely take it... he retracted his hips slightly to prevent from finishing. It was amazing that it took so little contact to have this effect on him; Harry could only imagine what's itd be like to actually have sex when the time came. Draco was slightly thankful that Harry had pulled back as he himself was getting uncomfortably aroused. Harry broke apart their lips momentarily, reaching for the soap on the ledge nearest them. He unfolded a wash cloth from the pile next to it and began lathering, his next move in mind. Draco immediately understood, returning the soap for Harry after the cloth was good and sudsy. A small smile had formed on Harry's lips as he began to wash Draco's body for him, beginning at the center of his chest. He glided the cloth across collar bones, along shoulders, and down his back. As he scrubbed softly southward, he approached Draco's arse and lowered himself onto his knees for more leverage. Draco groaned as he softly rubbed the cloth along the area, moving lower until he'd reached his ankles. He then came round to the front, washing each leg and ascending each thigh. He used a hand to press his legs open slightly wider and dragged the washcloth along his inner thighs, eliciting a shiver from Draco. Harry then reached to clean the space between his arse and his cock, a nervous anticipation taking over.

Draco found himself in ecstasy, silently begging Harry for more, allowing small groans to escape from his throat. Harry grinned coyly and decided to lovingly tease him by bringing the cloth forward to his stomach. He washed this area clean before going back downward, taking some of the soap from the cloth onto his hand. He then placed it around the base of his penis and pulled forward, sliding his hand back and forth until Draco was writhing. "Please, Harry, oh my god, don't stop." His pleas were no longer silent, and before Draco could finish Harry rose back up to plant a soft kiss to his lips.

"Mmm," Draco moaned before taking the wash cloth from his hand. "My turn," he whispered.

He started by running the wash cloth along the back of Harry's neck, dragging it across his shoulders and massaging it along each arm. He then reached his arms around his torso, cleaning his back for him before guiding him to the wall behind them. Harry's skin was cold against the stone as he slid to the floor, never breaking eye contact. Draco seated himself before him and began to rub soap along each of his legs intently. Harry's breathing was heavy, erection bobbing slightly at Draco's touch. As he made his way forward, Draco's hands traced the contour of the inner surface of Harry's thighs. A hand on either side, Draco abandoned the wash cloth as he slid them proximally until he reached Harry's swollen penis. He lightly ran his thumbs across his perineum, pulling an audible groan from above. He then reached his lips forward and kissed that same spot before pulling back to place his mouth around the head of Harry's cock. His entire body shuddered as Draco continued to place the entire length down his throat. He sucked gently, moving his tongue in swirls around the base. "Ah, Draco," were the words escaping from Harry's lips, "So...good, Merlin, please..."

Draco smirked around his dick, pleased with himself. He'd never done this before, and he wanted to return the favor after Harry had done this for him. He continued to push forward and pull back repeatedly, keeping a tight grip with his tongue. He used an absent hand to begin caressing his testicles, stimulating even more pleasure. "Draco, oh my god, love, if you don't stop... I'm gonna... mm..."

Hearing these words, Draco released him, not wanting to have him cum yet. Harry eyed him, and Draco crawled between his legs and placed his knees on either side of his hips so that their nether regions were in close contact. His chest was pressed against Harry's but he was slightly above him and able to look down into blazing green eyes. Brushing a lock of Harry's hair back, Draco spoke: "I love you. I need you, Harry, in so many ways. I want to have all of you, but only if you feel the same."

Harry nodded. "I want nothing more, Draco. I'm ready. I've never been more ready."

Draco pressed his lips to Harry's and rolled his hips forward so that his cock was pushing downward, rubbing against Harry's. He sighed with pleasure, panting at the closeness before breaking apart. "I want to do this, Harry. I want our first time to be absolutely perfect. But something tells me that the floor of the shower isn't the place..." Draco searched Harry's face for any sign of hurt or anger, but he nodded in response. "You're right."

Bringing their lips together, Harry smiled before he continued. "But I think I know the perfect place."

Draco was buttoning his shirt; Harry was buckling his pants. The two were grinning incessantly, having come inches away from losing their virginity and somehow still feeling quite lucky. Excitement hung in the atmosphere, Harry promising Draco he knew a place for them but refusing to spoil the surprise. They had agreed to separate for a while; everyone would be returning from Hogsmeade soon. After dinner Harry would meet Draco at the entrance to the dungeons and lead him to their own personal paradise.

Harry gazed at Draco finishing the last few buttons. His hair was beginning to dry, still a bit frayed and wild. Harry loved him like this, reveling in the closeness of their last moments. Draco looked up, lips turning up into a shy smile that caused Harry's stomach to lurch.

"You know, if you would've told me I'd be showering with Draco Malfoy a few years ago, I'd've hexed you." He stated, grinning sheepishly.

"Not me. I always thought you had a nice arse." Draco sniggered playfully while slipping on his shoes.

Fingers laced, they exited the Prefect's bathroom after piecing themselves back together. Time seemed to creep as they continued down the corridor together, not a soul around to separate them. "Love," thought Harry, a warmth welling up in his chest at the sight of the smiling boy beside him. "This is love."

When they approached the end of their route, Draco snuck one more peck in Harry's direction. He'd never felt more normal, more natural, more human than here with this boy. He wasn't just the Chosen One, he was Draco's chosen, and that meant so much more.

"I'll see you," he promised, stealing one more kiss. Harry grinned, almost dizzy with anticipation.

Draco's trek to the Slytherin common room was a confident one. Knowing what he knew now, armed with Harry's unwavering love, Draco was unstoppable. He owned the hallways once more, living up to his good ole Malfoy reputation with slightly less belligerence. He passed a group of Slytherin first years as he approached the dungeons, one of which paused to greet him: "Hi, Draco!"

She was of short, thin stature topped with an exceptionally round face that accentuated her youth. Draco recognized her vaguely, having spotted her once or twice in the Great Hall and in the common room. Normally, he may have ignored her, or thrown a glance in her general direction at best. Today, however, he was in high spirits.

"Hey." He came to a halt, observing the doings of the younger group. They had what appeared to be a paper snake, sprawled out lifelessly in the center of their circle. The girl's eyes were twinkling, honored to have Malfoy pay her the time of day. "What do we have here?"

"Chan's older brother says there's a charm that can bring origami to life," her glance shifted to a slightly older bloke of Asian descent across from her, maybe in his 2nd or 3rd year. "But we absolutely suck." Draco twisted his lips and reached for his wand, running his vision along the circumference of the group.

"Like this one?" He verbally declared, pointing his wand at the paper creature. Crimson sparks emitted from the tip of the Hawthorne like infinitesimal fireworks, summoning the snake to life. The paper crunched and crumpled as the pseudo-reptile began to slither around the group, periodically smelling the air for prey. It lifted its folded head, coiling its body and striking forward at no one in particular. The baby-faced girl clapped her hands excitedly, turning to Draco with delight.

"Chan's brother was right! Thanks Draco!" She blushed vividly in her gratitude, no doubt crushing on the older Slytherin. Draco flashed her the infamous Malfoy smolder, somewhat crossed with a haughty smirk that was known for making the girls swoon. It was different from the smile he reserved for Harry, much less honest and much more pompous. Having served the world and completed his charitable deed, Draco winked at the group and kept on his way. Something in him had changed again, constructively molded him from "Malfoy" to Harry's "Draco" even more so than it had already.

When he entered the common room, Pansy was sitting across from Vincent Crabbe. Cloud nine wasn't too high to speak with her, and Draco approached the two in good spirits. "Parkinson. Crabbe. How's was Hogsmeade?"

Pansy had a terrible poker face, regardless of intent. She shot him a sideways glance without moving so much as a centimeter.

"Draco."

She said nothing more but pulled out a file and began working vigorously at her nails.

"It was fun," answered Crabbe, attempting to save the awkwardness of the present moment. "Spent way too much time in Honey Duke's." He patted his belly, and Draco snickered. Pansy refused to look up from her manicure; his presence had no more validity than a ghost's. He wondered what the fuck her problem was but chalked it up to typical Pansy angst.

Giving Vincent a pat on the shoulder, Draco made his leave. "I'll see you two around." He went to the dormitory, deciding it best to freshen up and prepare for tonight's events.

"Seems smug, doesn't he?" Vincent Crabbe asked a nonchalant Pansy, who had finally stowed away her nail file.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "When isn't he? Arrogant prat." Her anger was obvious, albeit her intent was hidden.

"Got a bone to pick with Malfoy, Pans?" Crabbe raised his eyebrows, shocked at her reaction.

"No, no bones, dear. I just call it how I see it." She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. It was only a matter of time, she assured herself, before justice would be served.