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Chapter 2

Harry 'went to bed' at about ten o'clock, telling Hermione and Ron he was exhausted from everything that had happened despite sleeping for most of the day. The two let him go without complaint; they were occupied with a game of wizards' chess, although Harry suspected they were, perhaps, more occupied with each other than the game. They weren't officially dating yet, but Harry smiled quietly to himself as he watched them become more confident and flirtatious towards each other. Up in his room, Harry climb into bed fully clothed pulling the blankets high up to his chin so that no one would see he wasn't wearing his pajamas.

Harry was restless; he tossed and turned in his bed as the seconds and minutes ticked slowly by. He was nervous about sneaking into Slytherin again, but more than that he was nervous about sneaking into Malfoy's room. He twitched in the darkness for about half an hour before Neville and Seamus entered the dorm room quietly on their way to bed and he was forced to keep still pretending to be asleep. For the next twenty minutes Harry let his mind do the twitching.

Harry had, for the last 3 years or so, wondered about his sexuality. It wasn't that he was gay, well at least he didn't think so since he still had a crush on Cho Chang His heart would still skip a beat when she smiled at him, and even though it turned out to be disastrous, he remembered their short period of dating rather fondly. Despite his affection for Cho and his appreciation for a few other beautiful witches Hogwarts housed, he also found himself daydreaming about boys. Not just any boys, he actually had a type; athletic, tall, soft thick hair – not too long, not too short. Unfortunately, there were a few boys that fit this description and he often told himself off for dreaming about what Oliver Wood or Benjamin Allen, a gorgeous Hufflepuff Harry had never even spoken to, might do to him if he had his way.

Harry wasn't too concerned about these daydreams though; he decided that it must be a result of his developing teenage hormones – the focus he and all his dorm mates seemed to have on sex and anything that might fit snugly around their cocks – and that he would grow out of his so-called bisexuality over time. For now, Harry figured these thoughts were only thoughts and they weren't doing anybody any harm, so he let himself indulge. Tonight Harry fantasized, not about Oliver or Benjamin, but, for the first time, about Draco Malfoy. Harry imagined Malfoy's sad eyes and soft hair, he imagined himself touching and kissing Malfoy's taut chest, not torn like it was now, but hard and smooth. Harry relaxed into his fantasy, no longer anxiously pretending to sleep, but breathing evenly. The image was soothing, touching Malfoy and Malfoy touching him, wrapping around each other in the warmth of his Gryffindor red bed sheets. It was so soothing, in fact, that he almost loss consciousness before he started awake, suddenly remembering that he was supposed to be sneaking into the Slytherin dorms.

He climbed out from under his blankets, pulling the invisibility cloak over himself before sliding back the heavy curtains around his bed and sneaking out of the room. There were still a few people left in the common room, but they were too occupied having a heated discussion to notice an invisible Harry slipping out into the corridor. The air was chilly and it bit at his face and hands as he crept down to the dungeons. He was almost there when he remembered that he didn't know the password to get in.

"Damn," he whispered to himself, "what now?"

If it were earlier he would simply wait for someone to come along, but at this hour everyone was sure to be in bed. He waited by the Slytherin entrance, a seemingly ordinary stone wall, for several minutes debating with himself about what to do. He was just about to give up and turn back, leaving Malfoy to his own devices, when he heard someone coming. He turned to find Crabbe and Goyle loudly 'sneaking' down the hall with their arms full of food from the kitchens. Harry smiled to himself as he realized he now knew how Malfoy's goons got to be so beefy.

Harry stepped back, letting the two boys pass by him, and then fell into step behind them. He wasn't sure if he should be glad for the two boys' arrival; he had been about to turn back to Gryffindor Tower and, as much as he wanted to help Malfoy for some unknown reason, he wasn't sure that it wouldn't have been better for both of them that he simply leave his rival alone. Nevertheless, Harry remained close to Crabbe and Goyle, making sure he didn't bump into them and reveal himself as he snuck in to Slytherin behind them. He succeeded with no real dramas and consciously made a note of the password in case he needed to use it again.

'Why on Earth would I be sneaking back in here?' he thought to himself, and then smiled as he remembered his earlier thoughts of Malfoy's bare chest. He shook that thought out of his head and glanced around the room. It was just as he remembered it.

Harry wondered again what he was thinking risking his own neck to help someone he didn't even like, before he wandered off to find Malfoy's dorm room. It didn't take him long and the door was open as Harry had asked. He stood silent in the doorway listening for sounds of movement; there were none so he carefully removed his invisibility cloak to find Malfoy. He went to check the first bed on his left and the floor creaked as he stepped.

He froze where he stood, his body tense until he heard someone whisper, "Potter?" He turned to see Malfoy pull back the curtains of a bed in the far right hand corner; Malfoy, it seemed, had been waiting for him.

Harry walked over to the blond silently and climbed onto the end of Malfoy's bed, drawing the curtains for privacy. Malfoy looked relieved, but also a little surprised, and perhaps confused, that Harry had done as he had promised.

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, but paused when Harry held up his hand and shook his head. Harry nodded to the other Slytherins slumbering on the other side of Malfoy's drawn curtains; he knew it was risky being here and he wasn't about to make the situation any more dangerous than it needed to be by alerting Malfoy's housemates by having a conversation – or knowing the two of them, an argument.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows and gave a sort of smile before pulling out his wand an muttering a silencing spell.

"Good idea," Harry whispered, "this might hurt, don't want your screams waking anyone."

Malfoy didn't look pleased at Harry's comment, but didn't say anything. Harry pulled back the blankets covering Malfoy and helped him out of his pajama top since he seemed to be having trouble lifting his arms. Harry carefully unwrapped the bandages he'd used to keep pressure on the wounds and cringed as he saw the damage again; he didn't remember it being this bad. Twice Malfoy hissed as Harry worked, breathing in sharply through gritted teeth, but for the most part he remained silent. Harry worked silently too, re-stitching and cleaning a large gash down Malfoy's side. Once he was finished Harry put the tools away and asked Malfoy how he was feeling.

"Sore, but fine," he replied, obviously trying to appear nonchalant.

"Why would they do this to you?" Harry asked, not really expecting an honest answer, but not being able to help his curiosity or – strangely – his concern.

Malfoy didn't reply. Ignoring Harry's question he asked instead, "Why did you help me anyway?"

"Because you needed help," Harry answered simply, deciding not to push for an answer; when it came down to it, it wasn't any of his business. Still, even if Malfoy was stupid enough not to do anything, he didn't want the Slytherin's death on his conscience should Malfoy end up dead next time.

"It's really that black and white to you isn't it?"

"Why shouldn't it be?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry, "fucking hero, aren't you? The world isn't black and white, Potter. I bet there would be some people you wouldn't help if they were dying; I guess I'm just surprised I didn't make that list."

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, thinking about Voldemort, Wormtail, even Malfoy's father, "I hope I don't ever have to find out. As for you not making the list, well, I suppose I see that you're not all bad – or at least I hope."

Malfoy focused his gaze on a scratch in the wood of his bedframe, determinedly not looking at Harry. "I hope so, too," he muttered almost under his breath, but the silence of their little nest in Malfoy's green sheets carried the words to Harry's ears.

"Is that Tilly Abagail?" Harry asked suddenly. He'd spied the poster of the famous Seeker on Malfoy's wall almost immediately and in an attempt to dispel the awkward silence they were sitting in after Harry's too intimate confession, he decided to bring it up. Quidditch was an easy ice breaker, especially since he knew Malfoy loved it as much as he did.

"Yeah," the blond nodded happy to be talking about, and thinking about, something else. "She's great! I got the poster at a game Father took me to over the summer. She signed it for me – see, right there." Malfoy pointed out the signature and Harry inspected it, feeling genuinely impressed – and a bit jealous – that he had obviously met her.

For the next hour which pushed early into the next morning, Harry and Malfoy talked about things that didn't matter; going over the highlights of Tilly Abagail's career – most of which Harry had never heard about – comparing the most disgusting Bertie-Botts Every Flavour Beans they'd come across, and arguing about which was the best Quidditch team in the English League.

Inevitably, Harry's eyelids began to droop, as did Draco's, and while he really didn't want to, he made the responsible decision and stated that he should probably go.

"Why?" Malfoy blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Its getting cold and you need to rest," Harry told him.

"Harry," Malfoy whispered, saying Harry's name for the first time, "tomorrow, none of this ever happened, understand?"

Harry frowned, a little hurt, but said, "Yeah, I know," because it was true, he did know. He and Malfoy were never supposed to be friends, even if they'd wanted to society would have never allowed it simply because of their backgrounds and what they were expected to become. Enemies. Yet here he was enjoying himself talking to Malfoy like they were, or could be, friends.

"Good. If you're cold you can jump under the covers with me, then you can stay a bit longer." As Harry looked at Malfoy and watch him shift around to make room for Harry in his bed, Harry began to understand; this obligatory hatred they must have for each other hurt Malfoy too and he was postponing the end of the night and the end of their friendship.

Harry smiled and obliged, crawling in next to the blond. "So, Malfoy," he said as he settled into the warmth of the blankets, "while I've got you here and we're actually talking, are you and Pansy together or what?" He wasn't completely sure why he asked that question; if he was honest he would have to admit that it was mostly because he was curious about whether Malfoy was single – and straight. Whether or not, Draco and Pansy were dating was a Hogwarts mystery; she seemed to be all over him and he never seemed to look at her twice, but Lee Jordan swore up and down that he caught them sneaking out of a closet late one night looking more than a little disheveled.

"Tonight you should call me Draco," he whispered turning towards Harry, "and no, not dating, just fooling around. She'd like to think we're dating, but we're not."

"Fooling around? What is that supposed to mean?" Harry teased, smiling cheekily at Draco.

"You're not a virgin, are you, Potter?" Draco asked, teasing Harry right back.

Harry blushed as he reminded him, "Tomorrow, none of this happened remember? You can't tell anyone if it never happened right?"

Draco smiled and traced a slow cross over his chest where his heart lay underneath. "Everybody knows you're still a virgin, Potter," Draco paused, and then smiled again. "Harry," he amended. "You're just not that kind of guy. It's no secret."

"So what if I'm a virgin anyway," Harry huffed, blushing under Draco's intense gaze and the way he almost reverently said his name.

"That's right," Draco laughed. "Who cares, it's not that great."

"It's not?" Harry asked, feeling a bit confused. "But I thought – I mean, everyone likes it… don't they?

"Not me. Not with Pansy anyway," Draco whispered as he shifted around again; his leg fell against Harry's and pressed into him heavily. There was no way Draco hadn't noticed, and Harry was too shocked and too embarrassed at how much he liked the feel of Draco's touch to move away. He just lay there in silence listening to Draco breathe slowly in and out as he tried to figure out what was happening. Was Draco touching his leg on purpose?

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked finally, not really knowing what else to say.

"Aching all over, but it's better with you here."

Harry smiled a little self consciously, "Are you flirting with me?" he teased.

"Maybe," Draco smiled back, but there was something serious in those unusually beautiful grey eyes. "Do you like it?"

"Maybe," Harry laughed, mimicking the Slytherin's vague admission. The truth was he did like it, he liked it immensely, and he marveled at the situation he was in; lying in Malfoy's bed - with Malfoy - flirting with him and loving it. He guessed this was a situation he wouldn't find himself in again and it took all his Gryffindor courage to seize this opportunity while he had it.

He paused, only to let himself think for a second before kissing Draco, any longer and he wouldn't have done it. He pushed his mouth towards Draco's only thinking about touching his lips, but not what he would do once he was there. The kiss was awkward at first, clumsy and wet, but Draco, the far more experienced of the two, lead Harry into a sweet and tender kiss.

"Um, wow… Weird," Harry whispered to Draco once the kiss had ended, their faces were still only centimeters apart and Harry could feel Draco's warm breath on his mouth.

"But nice?" Draco questioned shyly, trying to determine how Harry felt about kissing him.

Draco could see Harry smile in the dim light before he leaned in for another kiss. It was careful and soft like the last one, but became more passionate as Draco grabbed Harry by the hips to pull him in closer. Harry was surprised at the confident movement, but was definitely not complaining; this was the most incredible experience he'd ever had and he was so aroused he was beginning to lose his mind with lust. He could feel Draco's erection pushing hard against his thigh and Harry pushed hard against Draco in return. Feeling insecure about what to do next, he simply lost himself in Draco's kiss and let himself enjoy the moment, that was, until Draco broke the kiss with a sharp cry. Harry, it seemed, had unknowingly moved his hands up Draco's bare back and, in an attempt to pull him closer, pushed too hard on the tender flesh.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you --?" Harry whispered frantically.

"I'm fine, I think. You'd better check anyway."

Harry sat up pulling the blankets off them both to study Draco's back for any signs of loose stitches or fresh bleeding.

"It looks fine, but I'll have to check it again tomorrow night." Harry said as he grabbed Draco's shirt to help him get dressed.

The moment had been lost and both boys were now feeling extremely self conscious about acting so rashly on their raw hormones. There were no words spoken, but Harry knew it was time for him to leave; it was late and Draco clearly was not up to anything too physical.

Harry took an unexpected pleasure in fastening up each of the buttons on Draco's pajamas, he did each one with care and felt himself growing closer to Draco as he did. As he finished the last one he glanced up into Draco's grey eyes and wondered if he felt the intimacy of the moment as strongly as he did.

"I should probably go," Harry whispered, beginning to sit up and climb out of Draco's bed. "I'll come back to check on you tomorrow night."

Draco suddenly reached for him, stilling his movements with a firm grip on his right wrist. "Harry, remember, after you leave, none of this happened?" he reminded him.

"I know." Harry looked sad, as though he was hoping Draco had forgotten or that after their kiss it wouldn't apply anymore.

"You can't come back here again," Draco whispered.

"Don't be stupid. I have to dress your cuts again, if nothing else," he objected, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. Feeling like a stupid virgin, Harry wondered if Draco knew exactly what he had done, sharing Harry's first sexual experience and rejecting him this way. He felt used.

"I'll be alright, Pansy can do it." Pansy. She was allowed to touch him, allowed to fuck him, allowed to care for him – Malfoy wanted her to. Anger burned up inside Harry as he felt the unfairness of it all.

"What?" he snapped loudly. "Pansy is an idiot! She'll only hurt you. She won't be as careful as me and you'll probably scar!"

"Harry, stop it!" Draco said firmly, gripping his wrist harder and demanding Harry's full attention. "I never expected to find myself here with you, and even more I wouldn't have ever thought I'd like it so much, or that I'd want to do it again. I wish you could come back here tomorrow, I wish you could stay here tonight, but you can't. It's far too dangerous, even coming here tonight was reckless!"

"I won't get caught," Harry pleaded to Draco. "No one will see me. I'll be careful. Didn't this mean anything to you?" Harry didn't know how to describe what had just happened, especially now that it felt like none of it mattered.

"What could it mean, Harry? It was fun, but it's not possible for it to mean anything. Don't misunderstand me, I'm glad it happened. I'm glad I feel like I know you better now and I'll always remember this, but it can't go any further." Draco's gaze was penetrating it only made Harry more distressed by his words.

"I can't believe this," Harry whispered, almost to himself.

Draco sighed. "I wish it could be different, but you know that things have to go back to normal tomorrow. I want you to remember me as I am tonight, and forget the jerk I have been and the jerk I'm going to need to be again once you go."

"So you're just going to go back to being a jerk?" Harry hissed angrily; he couldn't understand any of this, he couldn't believe this night wouldn't change anything between them. "You can't just erase a whole night and go back to the way it was before. It doesn't work like that!"

"Harry you told me you understood, none of this happened, remember?" Draco's voice was softening, trying to calm the dark haired boy. He leaned forward and took Harry's hands in his. "You can't come back to--"

"Stop it," Harry commanded. "I'll leave the antiseptic and needles and everything as you ask, but I will be here tomorrow night and I hope you leave your door open for me." Harry leaned forward into Draco and kissed him one last time before leaving. As Harry put his invisibility cloak back on, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath praying that when he arrived tomorrow night Draco's door would be open to him. Harry didn't know it yet, but it wouldn't be.

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