Hello, Readers :)
"I am an adult. I have two jobs, and pay bills. I have a gym membership. I spend more money on my parents' birthday presents than they spend on mine. I go to university, and no longer get asked for ID," I whisper to myself as I'm lying in bed in my Dan and Phil hoodie, eating apple slices and writing fanfiction.
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Draco was surprised when Harry happily announced the password to the portrait that guarded the Gryffindor common room without even the slightest effort of keeping it secret from him. He made sure that the shock didn't show on his face so that he could fix the Fat Lady with a smirk and a suggestive wiggle of eyebrows. He couldn't suppress a small chuckle when she nearly collapsed in a dead faint.
"What's so funny?"
"The Fat Lady's judging your choice of late night companion," Draco taunted him with a wink. His already snow-white skin managed to pale even further as his eyes swept around the room, his leering expression shifting to horror. He had presumed the Gryffindor common room was at the end of a set of stairs or corridor away from the entrance, like the Slytherin one, and hadn't expected the door to open straight into it. Which meant everyone in the room had immediately turned to look their way when the portrait had swung open, and everyone had heard his words. "That's not what I meant, I…" He sighed dejectedly, blowing away a lock of hair that had fallen across his face, "Fuck it, whatever. I don't care."
Harry just smiled, waving hello at his friends as he led Draco across the room, speaking over his shoulder at the blonde, "You know, I think I'm a bad influence on you. But, I have to admit, I do like this more stress free, unburdened version of you."
Draco clutched his free hand to his chest, his eyes narrowing, looking like he had been mortally offended. "Are you saying dark, brooding, mysterious me wasn't jaw-droppingly attractive?"
"That's what you were aiming for?" Harry plastered a look onto his face like one would have if they'd just discovered the secrets to the universe, "It always read more as moody, spoilt, self-absorbed, bigoted-"
"Alright, I get the idea."
"-pompous, arrogant, bullying prat." Harry continued on relentlessly, his eyes flashing in the firelight and his grin somewhere on the border of cheeky and sadistic.
The blonde just nodded amicably, unfazed, and continued to allow Harry to tug him in the direction of his two best friends. "Well, then, I'm glad that bitch is dead and buried." He nodded in polite greeting to Ron and Hermione as they reached the couch they were sharing, "Weasley and Granger can feel free to dance on his grave, they deserve it."
Hermione had been following the conversation between the two since they had arrived, and she met Draco's eyes dead on with an appraising stare that made him feel pinned to the ground, "Was that your attempt at an apology?"
"It was if it worked." Draco attempted a small smile, but it withered and died at the witch's almost dangerously unamused expression. "Then no, it wasn't. This is." He finally released Harry's hand and stepped forward, offering it to Hermione to shake. "I would like to say that I am sorry, Miss Granger, for all of my past misdeeds and the unwarranted and appalling treatment I showed you. I know it's a lot to ask; I have a rather large slate of wrongs that I am wanting to wipe clean. I completely understand if you don't like or trust me, or even if you choose to never forgive me, but I hope you know that my apology is sincere."
Hermione let him squirm under the weight of her stare for a moment longer before it vanished, replaced with a bright smile that reached her warm, honey brown eyes. "Yes, I forgive you, I was willing to forgive you for a while now. I trust Harry's judgement, and I'm willing to attempt to start anew with you. However, I will only put in the same amount of effort as you do." She batted his outstretched hand away and stood, engulfing him in a quick hug. She leant up onto her tiptoes so that she could whisper into his ear without her best friends over hearing, "Of course, if you were to ever hurt Harry, it would be a whole other story. Your mother wouldn't even have a body to bury once I was through with you. They'd be finding bits of your charred remains for weeks." She released him and sat back down elegantly, the warm smile not once leaving her lips.
Draco gulped audibly, nodding shakily as he took an unconscious step closer to Harry's side. Harry was looking between Hermione and Draco with glee, but they could both could see the knowing glint in his eye. "You know, don't you?" Draco whispered to him angrily, but his voice was still tinged with the slightest hint of fear.
"Oh, I know." Harry replied, not bothering to keep his voice low as he grinned innocently.
"Bloody Gryffindors."
"Speaking of, whilst you're on a roll…" Harry waved his chin in the direction of his male best friend, not in the least bit subtle in his hinting. He was either unaware or completely ignoring that said best friend had been slowly turning redder and redder, with garbled sounds of protest escaping his lips with increased frequency.
Draco pulled out the role of the stroppy teenager from his vast collection of masks, sticking his bottom lip out and crossing his arms, "Do I have to?"
"You do if you ever want to see this arse again."
"In that case…" Draco shoved Harry round slightly, keeping him still with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"What are you doing?"
The blonde allowed his gaze to drop in a very pointed direction, "I might as well commit it to memory now, then."
"Hey!" Harry shrieked indignantly, jumping up and round, swatting his hands at the taller man's chest.
Draco just stepped out of his reach, a cocky smirk on his face, "Too late, it's been done. Wasn't much to look at, so only took a glance."
"Oi, I have a great arse! Hermione, tell him I ha-"
"Leave me out of this."
Chuckling lowly, Draco reached out a hand to pat the top of Harry's head like he was a young child before allowing his face to turn neutral as he addressed Ron. "Weasel-y, Weasley," Draco hastened to correct himself, but not before letting the slightest hint of a sneer pull up his lips. "Sorry."
Ron's mouth snapped shut, halting the almost constant noises of complaint, and stared up at him. The sneer on his own face made him look like he could smell something bad, and he crossed his arms defensively. "What, no speech?"
"I would, but I feel like the big words would be wasted on someone of your…now how do I say intellectual prowess in words simple enough for you to understand?" his smirk flashed to shock as a quick, bony elbow jabbed into his side. He looked down to see Harry looking at him in frustration.
"Please, Draco." He murmured softly.
Draco stared down into those large, impossibly vivid eyes challengingly but quickly gave in to their power. He felt unexpectedly guilty for the pleading sadness he saw in their depths and brought a hand up to cup the pretty face, his thumb easily reaching up to smooth away the crease of anger that formed in the tan skin between dark brows. He broke the moment not a second later, returning his attention to Ron with increased determination, "Look, Weasley, here's the deal. I know you don't like me, and I'm not your biggest fan either. I am genuinely sorry, though, and would really appreciate your forgiveness. However, even though I'm trying to change and make up for my past, I'm still me, I've not had a personality transplant or anything like that. I think we'll always not quite be on the same page. Having said that, I am willing to try to see past our differences, and maybe at least attempt to be civil, for Harry's sake. You mean a lot to him and he-" means a lot to me, "He's my friend."
Ron leant forward, his defensive posture taking on a defiant nature, and his sneer seemed to turn up to a whole new level, "Well, I don't forgive you."
"Ron!" Hermione shrieked at her friend, cuffing him over the back of the head.
"Ow! Alright, alright!" He exclaimed, rubbing his head roughly, "Fine, I guess I forgive you. But I still hate you. And I think Harry and Hermione are bloody bonkers."
"I'll take it." A thoughtful look crossed over the blonde's handsome face before he shrugged his overnight bag off his shoulder, depositing it neatly at the edge of the table Hermione had pulled to their sofa so she could write her essays. He craned his neck, staring down at the mess of papers covered in neat scrawl, "Is that the Arithmancy task from this morning? At first, I thought to just interpolate the last five values because of the shift from Hebrew to Latin practices. I didn't even want to attempt the minefield of those potential errors, but have you found a way to normalise the data?"
"I think so," She replied, a small frown on her lips as she looked back down at her notes, "But I wish I had a second pair of eyes to check my outcomes; I love them, but Gryffindors aren't known for being the most academically inclined. Actually, it was something you said while we were working on that Chaldean problem that made me think to-"
"-Oh, don't mind me, I'm just going to…there." Harry huffed out as he dragged another couch closer to the one Hermione and Ron occupied. Thankfully the common room was beginning to clear out as the night grew later, so he had no hassle in finding an empty one. He dusted off his hands and promptly shoved Draco into the seat closest to Hermione. "Now you can talk about nerdy stuff without one of you having to loom ominously and the whole common room having to hear about your boring numbers."
Draco rolled his eyes at him but quickly dove back into his conversation with Hermione. He only paused when Harry unceremoniously flopped onto the couch, lying on his back with his head in Draco's lap. His hands hovered in the air, unsure, but when his questioning look was met with a challenge barely concealed behind amused indifference he gave an awkward shrug, settling one hand atop Harry's chest and the other in his hair. "Bloody Gryffindor."
"What? I told you I haven't been sleeping. If listening to you two go on about 'the beautiful intricacies of numerical interpretation', and yes, I am quoting you, Hermione, doesn't send me to sleep, then all hope is lost."
"You know what, I don't even care anymore," Draco stated, stifling his own yawn. He sympathised with Harry, he really did; insomnia was no laughing matter. If he could help the other find a small window of rest, then he would. He could hear Ron muttering and cursing at their actions but easily tuned him out. He buried long fingers further into messy but soft hair, the deep black a stark contrast to alabaster skin, and absently played with the locks in what he hoped was a soothing manner.
They both listened quietly as Ron and Hermione argued in hushed, angry whispers. A few choice words could be heard from the redhead and Hermione turned livid, casting a muffliato around the pair. The two boys watched in a mixture of shock, horror, and amusement as the witch tore him a figurative new one.
"I wish I could hear what she was saying," Draco murmured.
"Trust me, you don't," Harry replied knowingly.
A moment later the spell dropped, and Ron stormed of, announcing he was going to bed. Hermione let her head fall into her hands, massaging her temples, but muttered a quiet "I'm fine" when Harry softly called her name. She let out a long, heavy sigh before sitting up with a faint smile, drawing Draco back into their previous discussion as if nothing had happened. Soon, a quiet hush made up of soft murmurings and scratching quills fell over the small group.
Before they knew it, the rest of the house had left for the dormitories and Hermione was adding the last few details to her final sentence. She stretched, announcing her own intentions to turn in for the night. She smiled a small smile at the blonde, "You know, Malfoy, I think we might actually have the potential to become good friends." Her grin took on a more wicked light as she nodded towards the boy still in his lap, "But, as you're currently still at a casual acquaintance level, I will not offer you my help in moving Harry. I think you might be stuck there for the rest of the night. Good luck."
"I'm not asleep," A mumbled, muffled voice called out. Large eyes slowly opened, blinking owlishly up at Draco. A soft, almost adoring smile lit up his face, "Not to dismiss your talents as an exceedingly comfortable pillow and an exceptionally boring conversationalist."
Draco bopped him lightly on the nose, a matching smile on his face, "If you weren't asleep, what were you doing? You seemed pretty out of it."
"Extreme resting," Harry declared, his smile becoming lopsided and playful, "And thinking."
Hermione looked at them and, even after a long evening of work, her intelligent mind could almost visibly be seen whirring away through whatever puzzle she was focused on. "Penny for your thoughts, then, Harry?"
"I was just wondering why Draco decided not to kiss me earlier. And, about how disappointed I feel at that decision." Harry stated simply.
Draco choked, grey eyes flying wide, and he would have bolted if his legs hadn't been pinned down. It took him some time, and a lot of effort, but he finally managed to slow down his racing heart and release some of the tight tension in his body. He hesitated a look up at Hermione, certain the girl would be disgusted, furious, or some other kind of negative, but she just stared at him with a questioning, expectant look.
"Well, why didn't you kiss him?" she asked in that same infuriatingly easy tone that Harry had spoken in.
"For the love of Merlin, you bloody Gryffindors will be the death of me."
"It's just a question, Draco," Harry patted his chest almost patronisingly, "No need to get your knickers in a twist."
Draco was speechless, his mind running a million miles an hour, but…Harry was right. Once you cut out all the messy things like feelings and implications and consequences, it was just a question. And, he'd already allowed the 'fuck it, whatever' side of him to make most of his decisions that night, so why not jump in with both feet? In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, he had nothing to lose, except Harry, and he didn't think the stubborn Gryffindor would be removed from his life that easily. "You know what they say," He finally murmured, eyes on Harry's face, "It takes two to tango. Why has it got to be all about me? You could have just as easily kissed me."
"I suppose I could have."
"Yes, you could."
Harry sat up, frowning, and spun round so he was kneeling on the couch cushion at Draco's side. The pair barely registered Hermione offering them a quick 'goodnight' before quietly leaving the room. Harry leant towards the Slytherin, eyes unsure and imploring, "I could?"
Draco let out a shaky breath. He could almost feel the warmth of Harry's skin on his face. He felt the last of his walls crumbling, leaving his soul bared to the other. "You can."
Their lips met, and it was slow and hesitant, yet soft, warm, and perfect. Harry leaned further forward, struggling to keep his balance as he tried to press closer. Long, strong hands landed on his hips, lifting and guiding him to straddle Draco's thighs. He sat fully in the blonde's lap, his knees either side of the narrow waist, the new position giving him free use of his hands. He made good use of his new freedom, wrapping one arm around Draco's neck and burying the other hand in long platinum locks, giving a small tug as nails scratched lightly.
Draco let out a gasp, lips parting, breathing warm air against Harry's. His own hands begun to explore hips and lower back, sending electric jolts through the smaller body as fingers dipped under the loose shirt or teased the waistline of his jeans. Harry released his own breathy moan as those hands pulled, dragging him forward, closer, causing some much appreciated pressure and friction.
Taking the opportunity, Draco gave a small, tentative nip and lick to Harry's pouty bottom lip, growing braver at the happy, pleasure filled sounds he could steal from the brunette. Those lips parted way, granting him entrance, and he took his time to sweetly yet thoroughly explore, learning what would make the other clutch him tighter or turn him to putty in his hands. He then coaxed Harry into his own mouth, leaning back further into the couch behind him as he lost himself to the playful, teasing touches.
Harry pressed down into the body below him, adrenaline heating up his veins and making his entire body tingle as his tongue chased the taste of Draco. The blonde tasted how he smelled, minty, fresh, a little exotic, and it was intoxicating. He slowly broke away, peppering small kisses to Draco's lips and face, and then down across his sharp jaw and neck. He wanted to know how the rest of him tasted, dragging his tongue along the sensitive skin and worrying the flesh between his teeth whenever he discovered an area that had Draco writhing and moaning his name. He pulled away just enough to speak but stayed close enough that his lips brushed the warm skin.
"What I said earlier about it not mattering what we are? Well, I might have changed my mind. I know what we are. Or at least, what I want us to be."
"Oh, and what's that?" Draco managed to ask, mind scrabbling to pay attention to something beyond the physical plane, even as his hands slipped fully under Harry's shirt, dragging his nails over the soft skin.
Harry let out a breathy curse, his spine arching into the contact, "Don't make me say it." Draco placed a hand firmly in the small of Harry's back, pushing his hips down as he drove his own up and forward. "Oh, fuck me," Harry let out on a gasp, burying his face against Draco's shoulder, "Fine, I'll say anything, as long as you do that again." He was rewarded with another roll of hips. "Will you…will you be my…Merlin, this is so fucking stupid. Will you be my boyfriend?"
"Yes," the word drew out into a long, low hiss as he rocked up against hot, hard pressure. "Now, can we please get out of here before some poor first year sees us?" He looked up into Harry's flushed face, the deep tan of his skin turning a dark, dusky pink. At some point his glasses had fallen off, leaving his eyes open and unshielded, blown and lustful, and so piercingly green even in the dim firelight. Long, thick, black lashes fluttered closed and Draco couldn't stop from leaning forward, catching full, deep red, kiss-bruised lips with his own. "Merlin, you're so pretty."
"Take me upstairs. Now."
Draco stood up easily, clutching Harry tight, but his legs almost gave out as Harry's own wrapped securely around his waist, a hard pressure pushing just right against his crotch. He all but flew to the stairs, taking them two at a time, only pausing to roughly back Harry against a wall and thoroughly snog him before continuing on his ascent. Harry had always moaned about their size difference, having barely gained any height or mass over the years, and had envied Draco his tall, lean yet strongly muscled frame. Draco didn't think he'd ever hear Harry complain about it again as he carried him easily to the sixth years' dormitory.
They burst through the heavy wooden door, only Harry's quick reflexes catching it before it could slam into the stone wall and wake up all of the room's occupants. Draco backed up slowly, lips glued to Harry's and moving feverishly, until the backs of his legs hit the bed. He kicked off his shoes, pausing as Harry somehow managed to get his own off, before allowed them to tumble back. He groaned as Harry broke contact to sit up, still straddling his waist, and quickly shut the curtains of the bed, applying a silencing charm for good measure. Harry dropped his wand off the side of the mattress, hoping it landed somewhere near his shoes, before turning back to the man in his bed.
Draco was sprawled out, looking thoroughly mussed. It was the least prim and proper Harry had ever seen him, and the most attractive, he thought. His poker straight, chin length hair spread out like a silvery halo. His skin shone almost translucent in the moonlight and the darkness cast deep shadows, throwing his strong, aristocratic features into sharp relief. He placed soft butterfly kisses to his brow, to high, prominent cheekbones, to the tip of a straight, pointed nose. He kissed along the border of a sharp jaw and finally landed on his pale lips, applying small pecks in between each word as he spoke, "I like your face."
The blonde let out a breathy laugh that morphed into a whimper as Harry continued his path, pressing too light kisses down his throat and chest, unbuttoning his shirt torturously slow as he went. As much as Draco wanted him to continue whatever it was he was doing, he brought a hand to curl in Harry's hair, bringing his face up to his. He looked searchingly into those expressive depths.
"Relax," Harry whispered softly, "We've been together for what, an hour, tops? We don't need to rush things or do things you're not comfortable with, and I'm definitely not having sex with you on our first night. I just want to make out and feel all of this," he spread his hands over Draco's stomach, just below his navel, before sliding them up the narrow waist, over defined abs, to his chest and broad shoulders, "While we do it."
"That can be arranged," Draco shot him a cocky grin, grabbing at the hemline of Harry's t-shirt, "As long as I get something out of it too. I am a Slytherin, after all."
Harry just grinned his lopsided grin, stretching his arms up and allowing Draco to slide the baggy fabric over his head. However, he didn't particularly like his body, having been called scrawny his whole life, and he moved to cross his arms over his narrow chest. Draco's hands caught his wrists, gently pinning them down by his sides.
Draco looked up at Harry, drinking in the sight before him. He had known Harry was short and petite but had never been able to truly gauge his body under the oversized, shapeless clothes he wore. He ran his hands up from Harry's wrists, working over slender, willowy limbs and along protruding collarbones. He ghosted his hands down the chest, taking his time to draw soft moans from Harry's mouth, and experimented with playfully tweaking a nipple. Harry threw his head back, exposing his throat, and his hips rolled almost unconsciously. Draco dragged his eyes along the exposed skin, noticing the deep tan spread evenly over his frame except for the spattering of scars that reflected paler in the dim light. He traced his fingers lightly over some of the larger or oddly shaped ones but quickly decided those stories could wait for another time. Draco continued his ministrations, bumping his fingers along ribs before sliding them round Harry's waist to splay on his back. He used their positioning to pull Harry down, leaning up to meet him in a soft, sweet kiss that quickly grew hot and fierce.
The two spent most of the night like that, kissing and exploring, moving and grinding against the other's body until they were screaming out each other's names. They only got up to quickly rush through their nightly routines, somehow managing summon Draco's bag, clean up, and pull on nightclothes in between stolen kisses. When clothes were shed just as quickly as they were put on, and wandering hands and warm mouths caused dirty sheets and sticky bodies, lazily cast cleansing charms were deemed adequate enough. It was well into the early hours of the morning before the two fell asleep together, exhausted and content.
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To Be Continued (within 48 hours - probably...I have tickets for The Used, so I might be a little late, but it will be soon, promise).
Happy Reading,
Love,
Bambi x
