Harry closed the lid to his trunk, having retrieved the presumed necessities for the evening ahead. He packed a change of clothes and pajamas, just in case. He wasn't one hundred percent sure that Draco would want to spend the night with him, but better safe than sorry, right? He blushed at his own assumption, hoping that he was correct.

He wasn't sure if he'd need anything else; he'd never exactly done this before. His cheeks were tingling at the thought of what was possibly to come. His lips twinged into a small smile as he shrunk his belongings and placed them into a sack. At the top he packed his folded invisibility cloak, something that this time he would not forget. Hiding his things beneath his bed, he planned on returning after supper to avoid suspicion.

He descended the stairs into the common room and was greeted by Ron and Hermione who had just returned from Hogsmeade.

"Got you something to help you feel better, mate!" Ron tossed him a plastic bag of the color violet, stuffed full with treats from Honey Duke's. Harry responded with a wide grin, unfolding one of the chocolates. "Thanks!"

As the truffle melted on his tongue, a qualm seemed to creep steadily from his gut. Ron may have been a close minded git at times, but he was Harry's best mate regardless. It hurt to lie to the fellow, and Harry felt a pang of regret hit his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to come clean, to confess to Ron the love he felt for Draco. To empathize and share in his feelings for Hermione. To do what best mates were meant to do.

Hermione seemed to notice Harry's subtle change in demeanor and shot him an apologetic smile.

"So, what'd you guys do today?" Harry questioned, attempting to mask the guilt by conversing lightly.

"Oh, the usual. Hermione dragged me to the bookshop; I made her go look at brooms. And then we ate at The Three Broomsticks." He paused. "Much better than the day you've had, I'm sure."

Harry blinked, forgetting for a split second that Ron was completely unaware that today had been one of his greatest thus far. "Uh, Yeah, I'm sure it was." He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Let's get to dinner, then, shall we?" Piped Hermione, stifling any further conversation on the particular subject matter.

"Great idea, 'Mione. I'm starving!" Ron, chipper as ever, led the way through the portrait hole and to the Great Hall. Any awkward uncertainties faded as Ron steered the conversation, excitedly telling Harry of the latest broom model he'd been coveting. Letting go of his guilt momentarily, Harry dove head first into the subject and humored Ron by asking all of the right questions. Nothing would ruin his night; Harry was beside himself with a sort of giddy exuberance.

The doors to the Great Hall were propped wide open as the trio made entrance. The room was already bustling with students hungrily serving themselves after a day out on the town. At the Gryffindor table was Neville, who appeared to be invested in an extremely humorous conversation with someone seated across from him. At closer inspection, it appeared that the robes that adorned her weren't red at all; instead, the black material was lined with the color of buttercups.

"Is she allowed to sit there?" Asked Ron tactlessly. Luckily, they were out of hearing range, and Hermione elbowed him.

"Ron, you have the manners of a rat! Of course she's allowed to sit there; haven't you heard of House unity? Plus, don't you see how happy Neville looks?"

Upon second glance, it was obvious that the toothy grin worn by Neville was the result of the golden-haired Hufflepuff across from him.

"That's Hannah!" Harry exclaimed wildly, conclusions forming quickly. "She has Defense Against the Dark Arts with us."

Ron nodded. The three chose to sit at the far end of the table, away from Neville and his new friend for privacy reasons.

"Wonder if they were at Hogsmeade together today?" He asked, heaping mashed potatoes onto his plate ravenously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We only passed them hand in hand about a hundred times, Ronald."

"Hey, 's not my fault I didn't notice! All of my attention was on you!" Hermione flushed at the unexpected compliment and smiled shyly, filling her own plate.

Harry shook his head, chortling at the two friends and wondering how much longer he'd have to wait before they'd admit their feelings for each other.

He stole another glance at Longbottom, who was laughing heartily with the girl. Harry had never paid much attention to her before, but he now noticed that she had a lovely smile. Not nearly as captivating as Draco's, but sweet enough. Especially for Neville, who's eyes were practically bugging with affection.

Another thought crossed Harry's mind, as he contemplated Draco sitting across from him. "Pass me the butter, Potter," he would say in that haughty voice of his, "You Gryffindors eat like pigs. It's a wonder you didn't snort food on us across the Hall." And Ron would want to kill him, but only for a brief moment before Draco unleashed that perfect smile of his that signaled his satire was all in good fun.

Better yet, what would happen if he were to stalk right on over to the Slytherin table and take a seat? He'd be hexed, for sure;

every Slytherin around would have their wand drawn. "The precious Chosen One, at our measly table?" The sarcastic whispers would bounce amongst the students, every one of them harboring a personal grudge against Harry. Or maybe not. Maybe Draco would tell Pansy and Blaise that they were a couple. And maybe, somehow... they'd be ok with it. And maybe Harry would be welcomed as one of their chosen for being in love with the Slytherin Prince.

Harry shook himself from his fantasy. All daydreaming aside, the question still remained: would he and Draco ever become a public couple? As much as Harry knew the consequences, something inside of him refused to care about the fall out. He knew that homosexual wizards faced enough prejudice in society, and he could only imagine the torment he and Malfoy would endure. He could see the Daily Prophet headlines printed vividly in black and white: "Potter claims Dark Lord is back; Has sexual relations with his biggest supporter," "The chosen one chooses to like boys," "Harry Potter: gay or nay?" The list could go on and on. The tabloids wouldn't bother him too much; after the ministry's tirade against him last year, his skin had grown thick. Would they bother Draco?

If it weren't for his father, Harry was sure that Draco would parade him proudly throughout the halls. Just the thought of Lucius Malfoy made Harry nauseous, even more so after getting to know Draco personally. He sighed internally, shaking the thought from his mind. Even in secret, Harry was lucky to call Draco his own. He would let nothing and no one ruin their time together, not even his own pessimism.

Shifting his eyes laterally, he caught a glimpse of the devil himself having what appeared to be a joke with Zabini. There he was, seraph in nature, glowing with a radiance that set Harry on fire. Had he always been so perfect, Harry just numb to the burn?

"What are you looking at?" Ron Weasley turned around in his seat, attempting to match Harry's line of sight. Harry started, unaware of how obvious his crush on Draco had become. Just proximal to the Slytherin table were the Hufflepuffs, Hannah's friends crowded in the directions of Harry's stare.

"Susan Bones, mate? Is that who you're sneaking around with?" Ron grinned excitedly, hoping he'd just solved the mystery of Harry's anonymous girlfriend. Immediately noticing the scrunched grimace that was Harry's first reaction, Ron pivoted once more.

On the closer side of the Hufflepuffs were the Ravenclaws, Cho and Marietta conversing lightly before them. Ron's jaw dropped and brow furrowed as he turned back around to give Harry what for.

"Really, Harry!? Cho again!? Honestly, after last year I thought you'd know better!"

"Shhh!" Harry and Hermione both hushed the redhead who was quite worked up over his assumption.

"No, I'm not with Cho! I do know better!" Harry hissed reassuringly. A befuddled expression came across the Weasley's face as he made one last turn. Harry stayed quiet, humoring Ron while doubting his ability to guess. His eyes peered to the Slytherin table, confirming the presence of Draco and his followers.

"Well, it's not Parkinson. I'm stumped." Ron concluded, shrugging and taking a bite of his roast.

"Why don't you mind your own business and let Harry tell you when he's ready?" Suggested a flustered Hermione.

"Come on, aren't you curious, Hermione?"

"No! I am most definitely not!"

"Unless..." Ron continued, ignoring her. "Unless you've figured it out! You know, don't you!?"

Hermione was silent. Harry was gaping. And Ron was on to something.

"Hermione, how could you know!? How could you know and not tell me? Did you tell her!?" He turned to point a finger at Harry, who quickly shook his head in response.

"Ronald, I-"

"You know what?" Ron raised a finger to emphasize his point. "Don't worry about it. You're right. It's none of my business."

"Ron, listen," Harry attempted to salvage the situation. "I would have told you ages ago had I thought you wouldn't hate me for it."

"Hate you? Why in the bloody hell would I do that?"

"It's just- when you find out who I've been seeing, you might not like it."

Ron gave him a dumbfounded, slightly frustrated expression. "Look, mate, it doesn't matter if I like the girl or not. I'm not that lousy of a friend."

Harry felt himself relax a little. Could it be? Could Ron really not fault him for choosing who he did?

"Thanks, Ron. You have no idea how much that means. I'm just... not quite ready to tell yet. But when I am, I promise you'll be the first to know."

Ron nodded. "I suppose that'll work then." He smiled before taking a bite out of his third roll.

Pansy was quiet, but that was OK. Draco and Blaise were having the time of their lives discussing the earlier events of Hogsmeade.

"So, here's Nott, totally trying to get in with this 7th year. He slides up next to her in Honey Duke's- the poor girl is just trying to pick out some chocolate- and he puts his arm up like this-" Blaise paused to raise his arm above his head as if he was leaning against an invisible wall. "And he says 'Hey girl, you think this is candy? I can show you to a real treat.' And I'm like 'Please don't tell me he's going to get lucky off of that one liner.'" Draco was already hysterical. If there was a story teller in the group, it was definitely Blaise, and he had all but perfected the art.

"So she smiles at him, and I'm like 'Fuck, I'm about to owe Goyle some money if this works.' And that's when she looks him up and down, puts her hands on his waistline, gets real close... and then she pantsed him. In front of everyone."

Draco was crying, he swore, and even Pansy cracked a smile in all her stubbornness. Blaise himself was absolutely losing it while recounting the memory. Theodore Nott sat a few seats down, pouting at the embarrassment and throwing a roll at Blaise for repeating the incident.

"Don't be sour, Nott, thats the farthest you've ever gone with a girl!" Blaise tossed the roll back playfully, hitting him in the left shoulder.

"What about you, Dray? Did you have a good day playing hermit?" Blaise was in an exceptionally joyous mood, matching Draco's giddy stupor. Together, they were unbeatable.

"It was excellent, Blaise. Thank you for your concern," Draco grinned facetiously.

"I am so glad. So, so glad your day was grand." Blaise passed him a roll. "That's what friends are for." He winked, the brotherly love present but flippant in its entirety.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You two are chipper."

"Just because you haven't gotten laid lately doesn't mean the rest of us have to be miserable, Pans." Blaise patted her shoulder with feigned concern.

"Oh, shut it!" Pansy shoved him, but grinned teasingly. Draco watched, absorbing the moment. Maybe the mood was contagious after all. He glanced up at Potter, who appeared to be pleased. Melting, Draco leaned his face onto his hand, propping himself by the elbow. Claiming the boy, even silently from across the room, was enough to feel his insides goop like wax from a burning candle. Perhaps that was it all along; the flames between them too strong, too fierce to touch. Now, he reveled in the remnants of wax pooling about the base, enjoying the warmth from the wick.

Harry gripped his bag tightly and draped the invisibility cloak over his head. It wasn't quite curfew, but he didn't want to take any chances. He journeyed downward toward the dungeons, a mixture of nervousness and excitement coating his insides. He wanted to jump; he wanted to vomit; the sensations were flickering by the minute. What if Draco changed his mind about their insinuated plans? And, worse, what if he hadn't and was disappointed when the time came? Harry was definitely new at this; what if he didn't do it...correctly? Oh, Merlin, he came to a halt and bent over, supporting himself by placing a hand on the nearest wall. Panting, he wondered if he was actually about to vomit. Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself. Where was his Gryffindor courage now?

"You've faced Voldemort," he told himself, "you shouldn't be scared shitless right now." He chuckled to himself, realizing the silliness of his current situation. Sighing at his own stupidity, he continued toward the dungeons.

There he was, propped with his back against the castle wall, looking left to right nervously. There wasn't another soul in sight, and Harry forgot momentarily that he was invisible. He approached Draco, unveiling himself.

The smile that crossed Draco's face at Harry's arrival was enough to quell any and all fear.

"You came," he said softly, and Harry chuckled.

"Did you really think I'd skip out on you? Sorry, love. You're stuck with me." He stepped forward to encircle Draco, who wrapped his arms around him tightly. Harry nuzzled the space between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the smell of fresh cologne and hair gel. Malfoy's scent.

Draco turned his head to rest his face in a mess of raven black hair. "You know, I like it when you call me that. It's nice." He appreciated the aroma of Harry; the brisk smell of burnt wood from the Gryffindor fire place woven with a hint of eucalyptus...from shampoo maybe? And suddenly he knew exactly what a whiff of amortentia would entail.

Harry didn't reply, but rubbed his face gently against Draco's chest.

"So, where are you taking me?" Draco peered downward at Harry, sliding his hand back and forth between his shoulder blades.

Harry smiled, pulling back. "Come on, ill show you." And with that, he threw the invisibility cloak over top of them, grabbed Draco by the hand, and began leading them hastily toward the stairs. Grinning ear to ear, Draco followed, coming to appreciate the rashness of his Gryffindor.

Ascending the stairs was no easy feat with Harry attempting to run and Draco trying his best not to stumble on the cloak. They completed one case, and then another before hopping into a moving set of steps. "Are you taking us the back route to the astronomy tower?" Draco whispered hesitantly.

"No, silly. That's no place to... well, to continue our date." He spoke over his shoulder, continuing to lead Draco. The boy relaxed, having become rigid from his suspicion. They kept onward, and Draco was sure his legs would fall off by the time they reached the seventh floor.

Harry guided him down the corridor, until they stopped outside of a large stretch of blank stone. Behind them was a tapestry that Draco immediately recognized. He gasped.

"The Room Of Requirement! Why didn't I think of that?" Harry winked, shrugging the cloak off of them. Holding hands, they paced back and forth three times in silence, holding the assumption that they were both thinking of the same need.

They came to a halt before opening the entrance, and Draco glanced at Harry knowingly before they each took a handle and pulled.

The Room was cozier than Harry had ever seen it. This was definitely not a place to hide something, or to hold DA meetings. This was a space to take your boyfriend. And it was perfect.

On the left side of the room stood a very large four poster bed, with plenty of room for two. It was adorned with red blanketing and several fluffy pillows that matched the rug on the floor in front of it. The rug itself appeared to be velvet, a crimson addition to the dark hardwood floor. On the opposite wall was a fireplace, roaring already and adjacent to two arm chairs that sat facing each other. Beyond that was a small table and chairs, exquisite for dining in. The wall farthest from them was draped with a tapestry, the intricacies of which pictured Hogwarts as viewed from across the lake. In the farthest left corner was a strangely large cabinet of dark cherry wood.

They entered the room, closing the doors behind them and sealing themselves from the rest of the world. Draco toured the room, running a hand first along the soft fabric of the comforter. He then approached the cabinet, opening it and inspecting its contents. It was hollow, empty, and Draco had a strange feeling occur when Harry approached from behind. "What is it?"

Harry's voice was barely above a whisper. He stopped at Draco's side, observing him feel along the length of the furniture. His face was perplexed, contemplative.

"This isn't a normal piece of furniture," he stated. "I've seen this before. In Borgin and Burke's, with my father. It's a vanishing cabinet."

"But why would we have a vanishing cabinet at Hogwarts? And... why did the Room provide us with one?"

"I'm not sure." He turned to face Harry. "But in theory, we could place something in this cabinet, and it would vanish and then re-appear in knockturn alley. It's not that big of a deal for us, it's just odd..."

He paused while continuing to slide his hand against the wood, as if by feeling it he could reveal its secrets.

"I wonder why it appeared to us," Draco stated, thinking aloud and deciding to close the double doors.

"Maybe we needed to see this. The room is smart, you know, in its own way. Sometimes it knows what you need more than you do." Draco nodded, running a finger along the woodwork before pivoting toward Harry.

"Unless you were thinking about various types of cabinetry outside," Draco suggested with a wry smile.

"No," Harry tittered, "definitely not."

There was a moment where neither of them spoke, a look of seriousness dressed upon Draco's face as he studied Harry. Then, he suggested they try out the chairs and sit by the fire for a while. Harry happily obliged, following Draco and taking a seat across from him.

The crackling of the logs was relaxing to Draco. It reminded him of his childhood, on the days it would snow outside Malfoy Manor. His mother would have the house elves burn a fire to keep Draco warm, and they'd often bring him hot cocoa with marshmallows as a treat. He had always assumed it was his mother's doing, but he never knew for sure.

He snapped out of his memory to glance at Harry, who was returning his gaze. Harry's hands were folding in front of him; his elbows were propped on each knee as he slouched forward. He looked rather comfortable regardless, and when their eyes met he showed a shy smile.

"Draco," he said, and he straightened to listen to Harry. "Can I... ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"How did you know... that you were gay?" Harry blinked, unsure of himself or why he was asking this question. For some reason, he felt he needed to know.

"I didn't," was Draco's response, "I knew that I wasn't interested in any of the girls that wanted me. But I never knew why." He paused, playing with his hands and shifting his eyes downward.

"But then, one day, I saw you, and it was as if everything was different." He moved his line of sight to meet Harry's. "I knew that you thought I was a death eater. I knew that you probably hated me. And for some reason, I didn't hate you. Not even a little. I was intrigued by you, interested. I've known you since we were kids but I saw something in you I'd never seen before.

And then, Pansy made that prophecy, and at first I thought she had made the whole thing up just to try and convince me to be with her... but she really does take divination seriously." He rolled his eyes, and continued: "I brushed it off, thinking nothing of it. And then, during that Quidditch match, you saved me... I saw your eyes. Emerald, like she said. And I wanted to vomit, because I knew what that meant. I knew that you were it for me, and I didn't know what to do with that information. All I knew was that I wanted you."

Harry found himself speechless at Draco's confession. He smiled softly, reaching out to take Draco's hands. Draco gave them a squeeze, peering downward before he continued shyly: "What about you? How did you know?"

Surprised even at himself, Harry laughed. He giggled himself silly, and he wasn't even sure why. Perhaps it was because after hearing Draco's speech, he had not a doubt in his mind that tonight would be its own form of magical. Or maybe it was because he was staring at the boy he was absolutely head over heels for. And with everything dark approaching, it seemed impossible to be sitting across from Draco Malfoy and, well, laughing. Harry relaxed finally, wiping tears from his eyes.

Draco looked puzzled, but amused, waiting for Harry's explanation. "I'm sorry, Draco, I'm just so, so happy." He adjusted his glasses, which had slipped down the bridge of his nose and were now slightly cocked.

Draco laughed softly, smiling at his mate. Harry settled back, preparing himself.

"God, Draco, I can't describe it. I didn't know, either. I would've never known. I had that sort-of fling with Cho last year, and I thought that my complete disinterest was because of her. I tried to look at girls, because that was what I was supposed to do. I'd see Ron and Hermione, and I'd get jealous because I wanted what they had. But nothing felt right." He paused, and Draco's lips pursed into a slanted line.

"Are the Weas- Ron and Hermione a couple?"

"Basically. They're in love with each other, it's obvious. But they're both too stubborn to make the first move." Draco nodded.

"Anyway, so that's where I was for a while. And then I started stalking you-" they both chuckled- "and it turned into sort of an obsession. I was trying to turn you into your father, and it completely baffled me when I discovered that you're nothing like him. All of a sudden, you became like a light to me. I was drawn to you. I still had my suspicions, but I needed you to prove me wrong. There was something indescribable about you, Draco. At first, my curiosity was piqued. But shortly thereafter, the emotion changed into something much more tangible: I liked you. And then I discovered that I LIKED you, you know, like that. And that confused me even more..." Grassy eyes met steel.

"I had dreams about you. And it just felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right. I fell in love with you Draco, and here we are."

Draco said nothing, but rose from his chair and voyaged the land between them. The seats were fairly large, almost spacious enough for two. Almost.

He wordlessly placed himself next to Harry, thighs pressed together tightly. He turned his shoulders to face Harry, whose breath had visibly quickened. Draco drew a line with the back of his fingers, starting at Harry's temple and tracing down to his jaw. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling as he tried to contain himself. That touch alone could make him crazy, and he reveled in the pleasure as Draco continued to caress him.

The scent of Harry's breath was enough to make Draco's head swim. Harry opened his eyes and lifted his own hand to rest comfortably below Draco's left ear. He lay his fingers against the posterior surface of Draco's neck and placed his thumb just lateral to his Adam's apple. Watching it bob slightly as Draco swallowed did nothing less than arouse him. Neither had spoken, and when Draco lowered his hand to grip Harry's upper arm, all of the tension within seemed to explode.

Flames turned to fireworks as Harry pulled Draco's lips to his. Here, in this moment, was a fire that burned and ensued a passion so great that Draco felt an inherent need to be one with Harry. Instantly, Harry could sense this within Draco; an urgency to close the gap between themselves and their bodies. One kiss turned into a series of deeper ones, Harry retracting and coming closer in quick succession. Tongues were flush, sliding smoothly between lips and mouths and everything in between.

Draco's hands found the collar of Harry's shirt, fumbling with the fabric and using it to pull him even closer. He waited a moment before sliding them to the top button, and with a quick nod from Harry, he began to undo it. They continued to snog each other senseless, and Draco descended button, after button, after button until Harry's shirt was gaping across his chest. God, how he wanted him; the desire was enough to make his cock swell. And it did.

Draco began planting kisses steadily down Harry's neck, running his hands beneath the edges of his open shirt. He grazed across the smoothness of Harry's skin, caressing it's surface gently while his mouth entertained the upper aspects of him.

"God, Draco," whispered Harry, feeling his pants tighten beneath them.

Draco smiled against his skin, separating and coming back to kiss him once more on the lips. Simultaneously, his hands were shrugging off Harry's shirt and dropping it behind them. He retracted slightly, gazing at him lovingly, eyes shifting from his face to his body.

Harry straightened, prepared to return the favor. He reached his hands to the hem of Draco's sweater, lifting up and pulling it above his head. He wore nothing beneath the cottony fabric, and Harry gasped at the unexpected nakedness. They were both shirtless now, and the attraction was almost physically tangible.

Harry ran a single hand along the front of Draco's chest, dropping lower to the abdomen, feeling every aspect of Draco's pale skin. When he reached his belt, Harry tugged the boy forward. Draco shifted his hips so that he was straddled on top of him, still slouching in the chair. Harry moaned at the sudden contact and began unbuckling.

Draco's eyes were glued to Harry, a creature so beautiful that he was in awe that he was beneath him in this way. He silently observed Harry remove his belt and place it on the floor next to them. He didn't stop watching as Harry unbuttoned his pants, then moved to unzip them...

Having gotten his pants down as much as possible in the awkwardness of the chair, Draco took another moment to kiss Harry deeply, romantically. It was everything Harry needed and wanted, all wrapped up into one blonde package that continued to kiss him fervently.

Harry's hands found Draco's waist, and he tugged slightly on his hip bones to thrust them forward. He could feel-mmm- Draco's bulge rubbing against his own, diluted by a pool of fabric. He wanted, needed, more.

As if telepathically, Draco knew to stand up, extending a hand to help Harry from the chair. Here, standing, Draco took a moment to unfasten Harry's pants and slide them down to mid-thigh. Harry reached down to match Draco's to his own, but then continued on until Draco was left in nothing but the soft cotton of his shorts.

When he straightened, he felt his cock twitch at the sight of the angel before him. Almost completely barren, so raw, so open, just for him...

Draco slipped a thumb beneath each side of Harry's jeans, sliding them down in one fluid motion. Harry kicked them off the rest of the way, urgency bypassing all other emotion.

Now, they were standing in front of the blazing fire, wearing nothing but underwear, wrapping themselves into the other's arms.

Harry kissed Draco, once, then twice, before stopping to gesture toward the bed. "Do you want to maybe..."

Draco nodded abruptly, the message clearly understood. He crawled onto the bed, finding the middle of the mattress and leaning back onto his palms. His legs were stretched before him, and Harry placed a hand on Draco's ankle as he pulled himself onto the bed. He then moved forward, inching on all fours until he was hovering over Draco's body. Placing his palms on either side of Draco's upper torso for support, he spread his legs and dipped downward so that their bodies were pressed together. The only thing remaining between their nether regions was two loose sheets of cotton, begging for removal. Harry immediately felt Draco's erection through his boxers, and he adjusted his hips so that his own erection was pressed against it. Draco moaned softly, and Harry felt his prick swell even more at the sound.

Harry leaned forward swiftly, claiming Draco as his own by mashing his face to his. They continued in a similar fashion, kissing indefinitely, knowing what was coming ahead but enjoying every split second of bliss.

Before long, Harry's shorts had found themselves thrown to the floor, and only Draco's remained. Harry thrust himself into the fabric, pre-come staining the shorts in streaks.

Draco could hardly take it anymore. Harry was before him, naked and oh, so aroused, and Draco wanted him. All of him. Forever. Right now. Always.

Harry hovered over him, politely waiting for a signal to continue. Draco gave him the OK with a single nod, and Harry's hands were immediately tugging the boxers off of him. They couldn't be removed fast enough, it seemed, Harry's hands desperate with desire. He threw them to the side ravenously and placed himself back on top of Draco, pausing to look into his eyes before descending fully upon him. Their abdomens were firmly compressed; breathing was shallow from chest to chest. And, Merlin, down low... down low their cocks were touching, rubbing gently against each other, pre-come from both sides coating and lubing the other.

Chills ran down Draco's spine, causing his entire body to shudder beneath Harry. He smiled coyly in response, aware that Draco's desires mirrored his own completely. Draco's hands found Harry's arse and cupped it gently, urging his pelvis forward until friction was evident between them. It arrived in pulses that were timed to Harry's strokes, pleasure and passion and longing released with each touch.

Harry groaned, an audible liberation to the ecstasy developing within. Draco leaned forward, rising off of the mattress to match their lips. This kiss was soft, inviting but careful. It was a question, a proposal, and consent, all wrapped into one tender package. They pulled apart, and just to be sure, Harry gazed into him, eyes wide with concern.

"Do you want to do this?" He asked nervously, voice gentle as ever. He wanted this, needed this, but he needed Draco's love more. He needed his OK.

"Yes. More than anything." A seriousness settled over the two of them as Harry leaned forward pressing Draco back onto the pillow. Draco removed his glasses, placing them on the small table that seemed to appear next to the bed's edge.

"Draco, I've- I've never done this before. Do you think we need..."

"I brought some, just in case." Harry relaxed against him, relieved at Draco's preparedness. He summoned the same draw string bag from earlier that day that was charmed with an undetectable extension.

He sat up slightly, reaching inside to retrieve a small jar with a silver lid. Handing it to Harry, he paused as their fingers brushed against each other. He brought his other hand to Harry's hair, tugging him into a kiss deep with the decision to give it all.

They separated, panting but ready. Harry withdrew, opening the jar and spreading some of the goopy liquid upon himself.

"Maybe we should... practice. I don't want to hurt you." Draco nodded, and Harry rubbed some of the lubricant into his fingers. Innocently, he spread apart Draco's arse cheeks and reached his index finger to the hole.

He hesitated, but continued onward as he inserted himself within Draco. He immediately shrieked, a shrill gasp of pleasure emanating the room. Gaining confidence, Harry pressed deeper until he was at knuckle. He knew the prostate was in there somewhere, and he brushed his finger anteriorly to find it. A loud moan escaped Draco's lips, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the pillow comfortably. Harry decided to insert another finger, and then another, until Draco was writhing and looking at him with those big gray eyes and Merlin Harry needed him... he needed to be inside him...

He removed his hand and took hold of his own erection, glancing at Draco one more time before continuing. Draco's eyes were still closed, but his lips formed a whispered word: "Please."

Harry edged forward, placing his penis at the entrance to Draco's body and pressed inward...

Being inside of Draco Malfoy was an experience that was almost indescribable. Pleasure rippled throughout Harry in waves, every nerve short circuiting and fraying and electrifying within him. He inched his pelvis forward until he was consumed by Draco fully, completely, wholly. Draco's eyes were opened now, wide with delight and that feeling you get when you have someone you love inside of you. Harry leaned forward, bringing himself as close to Draco as he could manage, keeping his hips tilted so that he remained undoubtedly buried inside.

His breath caught, and he removed one hand from the mattress to stroke Draco's hair from his forehead. "I love you," He whispered, thrusting his pelvis forward slowly.

"Harry, I love you. I love you so much. I can't live without you anymore." Draco's eyes were glassy with tears, but these were different. These weren't the wet, uncomfortable sobs of Cho Chang; these were the emotional cues of a boy who'd never been loved until now. Here, right now, by Harry. That's where he was meant to be. The thought had Harry tearing up as well, and he closed the gap between them with kisses, soft and sweet.

"Make love to me," whispered Draco slowly, seriously, pleadingly. And Harry thrust himself forward, holding nothing back. His penis edged against that sweet spot, the one that made Draco yell in utter ecstasy, begging Harry for more. He pulled back, advanced, retracted, pushed, creating a friction that was too much to handle. His arms were shaking, weak with sexual gratification. His dick was harder than it'd ever been before, and every time he found himself against Draco's prostate he almost came. He wanted to hold on, for Draco. He wanted him to finish first, or simultaneously at least. He needed to see those silver eyes dilate with climax, those pink lips swollen from snogging, biting down and wriggling his body in a state of constant happiness.

He wrapped his hand around Draco's penis, matching his strokes with the movement of his hips. Long, lengthy, movements that had Draco tilting his head back. "Please, Harry, oh my god, don't stop. Merlin, fuck, I'm going to finish!..."

Harry continued, reaching the brink himself in a few quick strokes. "Mmm," he groaned, unable to handle much more at the sight of Draco's mouth open and moaning. All at once, Draco spilled, liquid spreading across their stomachs. His breathing was heavy, eyes locked with Harry's, face pink with exasperation. "Ah, Ah!" He called into the air, riding out the waves of his orgasm with Harry pressed directly against him.

A few moments later, Draco could feel Harry finishing inside of him, filling him to the brim, cascading on waves from the same ocean. Harry was inexplicably attractive as he came, body limp but eyes firm and unwavering from Draco's. He felt Harry relax as he neared the end of his high, and then he felt the sensation of lips pressed against the spot right below his jaw bone.

"I love you, Draco. You are amazing, you know that?"

He turned his head so that their foreheads met, Harry's slightly lower.

"I love you, too, Harry. You don't know how special you are to me."

And they laid like this for a while, Draco's arms wrapped tentatively around Harry, whose head was resting in the crook of Draco's neck. It was... heaven.

Harry was happy to find that Draco, too, had packed provisions to stay the night. After cleaning themselves with a few quick spells, the boys sat in front of the fire, side by side, perched upon the velvet of the rug. Draco's arm was draped around Harry, hand resting upon his right shoulder comfortably.

The only clothes they'd bothered to dress themselves with were pajama bottoms, coincidentally the color of their houses. Draco discovered playfully that he wore the same waist size as his mate; after stealing the pants from Harry, he sported the Gryffindor red proudly.

"I think you may be a Gryffindor at heart, you know," Harry teased, and laughed at Draco's grimace.

"Please, Potter. Even if my future husband IS a Gryffindor, I'll always be a snake."

Harry grabbed his wand, conjuring a couple mugs of hot cocoa. Taking one, Draco started.

"This has marshmallows." He stated, eyes wide, glancing Harry up and down as if he was about to cry.

"Of course it does. I love marshmallows." Harry froze, concern spreading dimly across his expression. "Oh no, do you not like them!?"

"No, no, I love them! It's just... I haven't had them since I was a kid."

"Oh." Harry visibly relaxed. Draco brought the mug to his face with both hands, sipping slowly. His lips crept into a smile at the taste of the frothy beverage mixed with the sweet flavor of the marshmallows.

"My mother used to make this for me. It tasted very similar. One day, she just stopped. I don't know for sure if it was her, or the house elves, but it just stopped coming. And, I guess that's about the time that I started questioning everything." He brought the glass down, peering into Harry. "I never quite felt at home after that. Things started falling apart. And, I guess I just associate this," He tapped on the mug, "with belonging."

Harry set his mug down and took Draco's face into both of his hands. It was funny how their childhoods were different and yet so very similar. The pain hidden within Draco's words mirrored Harry's own longing for his parents. He peered through Draco infinitely, finding himself lost in memory. That was when he took a dive deep, with no intention of coming back up for air.

"Draco," he said with a comforting smile, "You are home now."

When it came time to sleep, the two retreated to the four poster willingly. Harry crawled in first, followed by a yawning Draco that immediately snuggled up against him. The motion was so natural, Draco lying his head gently upon Harry's open chest. It was if they'd been doing this for years. Draco slung his arm over Harry's stomach, and, after removing his glasses, he placed his palm on the small of Draco's back. Harry wasn't sure what to expect, but a few moments later the sound of light snoring began to fill the room. He chuckled to himself, feeling weightless. Brushing his cheek along platinum hair, Harry drifted into a deep slumber. It was the best sleep he'd had in ages.