Disclaimer: If only I owned them...
Warning: You should know this by now.
A/N: Finally they meet ;) This was a chapter was something I was really looking forward to writing but I don't think I did it any justice. It was perfect in my head, but I couldn't write it just right. I hope you guys like it.
Harry could hear his own heartbeat over his heavy breathing as he paced back and forth in front of the Fat Lady. An internal battle was raging inside his head. Making his final decision, he stopped pacing andtook the shortroute to the Entrance Hall. Beads of perspiration starting forming on his head and hotness wasn't to blame. There was only one thing he was sure of at the moment: he hadnever been more nervous in his entire life.
As he walked to the meeting spot, Harry felt as if he were walking on thin air. First there was the thrill:The intense excitement of knowing he was going to meethis only confident. But after getting over thethrill, it left him only with hear:The fear the he would fall, plummeting to certain death. It tookall of his strength not to grasp hold of something in the hopes of preventing himself from falling.
He was scared... Scared of what he might find... Scared of what might change. Meeting inperson would turn everything upside down. It would makeit real. They wouldn't just be a letter of a piece of parchment any longer; it would be a real person.
Harry had the strongest urge to run... To sprint back to his dormitory and hastily jump into his bed, safely hidden under his soft duvet.
He had the chance. All he had to do was turn around; It would have been that simple. But he didn't, Harry chose to keep walking.
Even though he was frightened, at the same time all he wanted to do was to meet and touch the only person that knew him... The one person he was hopelessly falling for.
Draco Malfoy was leaning elegantly, yet casually, against the stone wall just under the large clock. He wasalmost invisible, seeing ashe matched the deep darkness that surrounded him, save the moonlight the filtered through the windows in a hall nearby. He sported a long black cloak that covered his entire body. A pale sliver of his face was the only part of him that could be seen shining in stark contrast with the pitch darkness. He looked oddly like his father whilst wearing his Death Eater robes.
Draco stared relentlessly at the large clock. Each second seemed to take an eternity as he watched it closely. He was nervous yet excited at the prospect of meeting him. He wondered what in Salazar's name made him propose the meeting, but he was genuinely glad he did.
Suddenly, the clock began to chime, counting down the last seconds until met his anonymous pen pal.
And then it hit him. What if he didn't come? he worried frantically, becoming more nervous than he was before.
His fears dissolved as he heard footsteps approaching, just now realizing that the clock had stopped chiming.
At once, a new fear replaced the old panic. There is a horrible feeling you get when you have been discovered doing something you should not have been doing. You become light-headed, your heartbeat quickens, and your throat constricts; your mouth becomes unnaturally dry and you get a terrible sensation in your stomach. All the while, you pray to every god imaginable that you are having a particularly scary nightmare. This is how Draco felt.
He felt as if she should not be there. This was wrong. The prospect of them meeting was suddenly a very idiotic idea. He was contemplating making a run for it when a he heard a nervous voice whisper, "Hello..."
The voice was deep and gentle; it calmed Draco immensely. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it at the moment.
He replied with the same greeting, hoping his voice hadn't betrayed his nervousness as well.
"Shut your eyes," he heard the voice whisper kindly. Wondering why, he shut his eyes without even the thought of disobeying, hearing a piece of cloth fall to the floor as he did so. An Invisibility Cloak, perhaps? he thought but did not dwell on it.
"You do the same," he said blindly with his eyes still shut. Completely trusting the stranger, he dropped his cloak, shedding his disguise, crumbling the facade.
Draco estimated that they could not have been more than a mere foot apart. He could feel the ragged breathing of the stranger. Evidently calming himself, his breathing became more even.
Draco inhaled sharply as he felt a hand cup his cheek in an affectionate way. The hand was very strong, yet gentle and soft. The gesture gave him a small bit of confidence to do something he desperately wanted to do. He exhaled, letting out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding, and took a step closer, eliminating the already small gap between them. And then he did something without thinking, without giving thought to the ramifications or what it might lead to. Draco crushed his lips upon the stranger's.The strangerbriefly recoiled before returning the kiss. Draco felt a pair of hands being placed nervously on his hips, pulling them closer together. He noted that the stranger was trembling.
Draco intertwined his fingers in his penal's mop of unruly hair. Although he usually preferred neat hair, messy hair was suddenly more appealing.
All the built up emotion they felt for each other came spilling out. Draco confidently explored his mouth as if were laced with a drug; He just couldn't get enough, he needed more.
He wanted so badly to open his eyes and have a pair staring back at him. But no, he refused to betray his trust.
Their touches were tentative and slow but lustful at the same time. Everything that he secretly wanted this meeting to be it was. Passion. Emotion. Rawness.
Although Draco's heard was pounding rapidly and loudly in his ears, in reality the hall was next to silent. The only sounds that could be heard were the shuffling of feet, the rustle of a clock, and the dancing a tongues.
They broke apart, inwardly cursing the need for air. Almost instantly Draco felt the familiar hands rest on his hips once again. They began to play teasingly with the top of his trousers and play with the him of his shirt. The hands unexpectedly found a large wound, one that was particularly painful. His pen pal's hands immediatelybackedoff. But then they moved back, tracing the scar softly. He then bent down a kissed it lightly.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered whilst standing up.
It was such an intimate gesture that Draco had to suppress the urge to cry then and there. Nobody had ever cared like that... Nobody.
Although nothing could express his gratitude, he replied. "Thank y---,"he began to say but was interrupted by the raspy breathing of none other than Argus Filth. Perfect timing, bastard.
"Damn it!" Draco hissed whilst grabbing his cloak and running for his dear life with his eyes still closed.
After sneaking back into the dormitory in a well practiced manner, Harry lied back in his four-poster. He felt oddly content. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, taking in the faint scent of him. He closed his eyes and imagined he was still there. He recalled the smooth texture of his skin... The sweet taste of his lips... His gentle touches with his long, slender hands.
His taste still lingered on his lips. He wanted more... He craved more.
As he relived the encounter he vividly remembered the wound beside his hip.
Of course he knew about what his father had did to him... but actually feeling it... It was frightening. He was able to feel wound his father had inflicted upon him. A surge of pity mixed with pure loathing pumped through his veins. At that moment, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss the scar and make it go away. But he, of all people, knew it wasn't that simple and easy. The pain he had endured would always haunt him, that was for sure, Harry knew of that all too well. But nonetheless, he wished he could make it better.
Even though Harry was curious to who it was, he never dwelled on the thought. He figured that when it was time to know who it was, he would. And that was that.
As Harry thought about the wound, Draco Malfoy's scar littered torso briefly came into mind. The large, nastyburn he stared at...Exactly the same place as his pen pal's... His father... Malfoy's father... But no... Not him, it couldn't be.Malfoy was an arrogant prick who wanted to follow father's footsteps... He was a Death Eater in training... That is what he wanted to be... Wasn't it? Suddenly nothing made any sense. Thoughts swirled around in hishead mixing together trying to piece together what was happening. It could not beMalfoy... Just no... Harry could not be in love with his sworn enemy... His arch rival knew every single secret of his.. Just no... He couldn't, hewouldn't, he refused except it...
A/N:Please review! I really want to know if ya'll think of this one.