Harry could not stop thinking about Malfoy. His eyes, his hair in which he wanted to let his hands wander, his smile, his lips he wanted to kiss all day long, his hands he wanted to feel on his body…

After their conversation in the muggle pub, the two boys rushed in the closest dark alley they could find and made out. They kissed with passion, as if all the sexual tension they kept in secret for years suddenly was free. Harry thought his head was about to explode when he felt Malfoy's hand wandering under his shirt.

Thought he wanted to be closer to Malfoy than ever, Harry knew that this was only obsession, sexual attraction but this was not love. He did not want Draco to be his boyfriend, he did not want to spend the rest of his life with him. They both only thought about the present. Draco did not want to think about his past while Harry could not consider a future. Nor could he dare to think of Ginny.

Days passed, and weeks passed, and Harry and Draco spent most of their time together.

"I've never learned to produce a Patronus. I don't know what it'd look like."

Draco was laying on a sofa, his head resting on Harry's lap, while the later was playing with his hair, like he once saw Pansy do.

"Probably a ferret"

Malfoy, visibly upset, tried to stand up but Harry stopped him.

"Don't be childish. I can teach you"

"Really?"

"Yes. Don't you remember I taught it to Dumbledore's Army? I was a great teacher. No, really, don't laugh." He gently pushed Draco. "And I was better than you in Defence Against the Dark Arts"

"I was better than you in anything else."

"Not in Quidditch. Well, shall we start?"

Draco vaguely shrugged. They both left the sofa and stood in the middle of the room.

"A Patronus is an animal like form of positive energy. It helps you –"

"Skip that part, I already know the theory, Potter."

"Don't you think we're close enough to call me by my first name?"

"Ugh"

"Okay, ray of sunshine. Find a good memory, something worth finding for. Then, focus on it and Expecto Patronum". A beautiful stag floated in front of them. Harry turned to Draco. "Your turn". Draco took a deep breath, closed his eyes tight to find the perfect memory and said, with confidence, Expecto Patronum. Anxious, Draco slowly opened his eyes, but no Patronus was to be seen.

The same irritation that used to show every time Harry did something better than he could appeared on his face.

"Don't worry. It happens to every guy once in while" Harry said with a smile while slipping behind Draco to guide him. "Focus on something strong, something you hold on when you feel down…Maybe on me?" he said with a smirk.

"In your dreams, Potter. Arg! That's hard!"

"Don't try to avoid the exercise by tricking me"

Draco gently pushed Harry's chest while rolling his eyes, then went back to practice. Once or twice, Harry stopped him to give him advices, to help him adjust the position of his wand, to guide him in the movement. After hours of practice, the best results was a tiny, shapeless, blueish cloud appearing at the end of his wand. Disappointed, Draco let himself fall on the sofa. Harry sat down next to him, trying to find the words to lift his spirits. Hopefully for him, the awkward silence was broken by their stomachs.

"Let's go get dinner" said Harry who had already stood up and was halfway to the door. Draco followed him in the dark hallway and to the quiet street. They walked side by side, the back of their hands brushing to the first restaurant they found. They were not used to go out, they usually stayed in a hotel room, as Draco did not want his father to hear about his relationship with Harry and as Harry did not want anyone to know. Harry had not returned to the Malfoy Manor – as he assumed that Draco and his parents still lived there – since the night Dobby died while rescuing them. At the same time, he did not want Draco to come at Grimmauld Place. Though he disliked that house, it was the heart of the Order, it was his Godfather's house and Malfoy did not fit in that picture.

A few tables in the restaurant were taken and the two boys decided to sit down away from the others clients. Another awkward silence settled between them when they looked down on the cart and when they waited for their dish. Malfoy, playing with his fork and carelessly stirring in his pasta, was the first to break the silence.

"How does it feel like?"

Harry looked up from his plate.

"To produce a Patronus, I mean."

"Well, it's, er -" Harry put down his fork. "It's a warm feeling. It's like you have a fire burning in your heart and you feel the heat irradiating everything around you. You feel like you're untouchable…It's like flying a broomstick, with the air playing in your hair. Or when you chase the Golden Snitch and you finally close your hand around it and you hear the crowd exulting." Harry could not help but to smile as he descripted the well-known effects of the protector.

"Though you probably don't know it feels like to catch the Golden Snitch" he said with a smirk. Draco gave him a dirty look. Very concerned about the appearances, he decided not to blow up at him and gave him the silent treatment instead. Unfortunately for him, though he desperately wanted to appear haughty, he could not bear to see the disappointment and the remorse on Harry's face.

"Maybe we could find a quiet place to have a quick game, just to prove you that I can kick your ass. I still have my old Nimbus 2001 somewhere."

And, in a more comfortable ambiance, they spent the rest of the evening talking about Quidditch, and, occasionally, teasing each other. They finished their meals, Draco insisted on paying the bill (they had the same old fight they had every time they went out), then they agreed to meet ten minutes later in front of "their" pub and left in opposite directions. Harry headed to Grimmauld Place. He walked into the house, climbed the stairs silently so he did not wake Mrs Black up, and entered into his bedroom. Next to his bed were his broomstick and the Quidditch kit he had bought during the summer. At the Burrow, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione used to play all day long two against two. Obviously, Hermione accepted to play only if Harry and Ginny were in opposite team as they were both excellent.

Harry was the first to arrive in front of the pub, as it was closer from Grimmauld Place. But he did not have to wait long before Draco walked out of the small street on the left – the one he always chose to apparate. They were walking for a few minutes when they found a little park – more a little square of grass than an actual park, to be exact. Harry put down his backpack filled with the Quidditch kit and the broomsticks – he had learned to use the spells Hermione used for her purse – then turned around to cast the protection spells he used to cast the previous year when he was hunting down horcruxes with Ron and Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making sure that the Muggles can't see us and can't hear us"

When the last spell had been casted, Harry went back to his bag, brought out his Firebolt, alongside with the Golden Snitch which, happy to be free again, started to fly all around them. The boys got on their broomsticks.

"Okay, on three. One…Two. Eh!"

Malfoy had already gave a kick on the ground and had taken off. Harry followed him but Draco was already dangerously close to the Snitch. Harry brought out his wand.

"Impedimenta!"

Draco started to fly slowly, as if he was trapped in quicksand. In a blink of an eye, Harry had overtaken him and caught the Snitch.

"That's unfair" yelled Draco, out of breath and finally free. "You can't use your wand!"

"You cheated first, I only used your own methods. Well, you want a return match?"

This time, Draco managed to catch the Snitch before Harry, without cheating. As both of them had caught the ball, they decided to play another return match. Then another. And another again. They played until their hands became numb.

Once they had tidied their broomsticks and the Snitch up and Harry had uncasted the spells, they shared one last drink in the pub. As the clock was striking eleven, Harry stood up.

"My round."

"Are you sure you have to go?" Draco asked. Though he did not like to sound nor look too attached, Draco was quite far from the distant person he wanted to look like. He had a straight face but his cheeks were red and their eyes were escaping Harry's. The later could not help but marvel at how cute he was.

"Yes. I'm really sorry. I have to go to the Ministry tomorrow." Disappointment showed up on Draco's face. "You know what? I can call in sick."

The two boys left the pub, together. Maybe it was because the euphoria of the moment, or the joy of playing Quidditch, or maybe just because he really liked him, he had liked him for many years, Harry reached for Draco's hand. He did not care if someone could see them – not even a wizard or a witch. He just wanted to show him that he was special to him. That there might be a beginning of something. Draco looked at him in surprise, smiled and squeezed his hand.

They walked into the night, wandering along the streets, laughing, not caring about anything else that the moment. Finally, they arrived on the road they always separated. Draco slowed down but Harry kept on walking at the same pace. He did not want this evening to end. He did not want to leave him.