"You two boys should be ashamed."

Harry and Draco stood in McGonagall's office, eyes on the floor, attempting to look contrite. She had been lecturing them for several minutes now, with no sign of stopping.

"I gave you permission to go to the club under the impression that you would be returning the very same night. If your plans were different, you should have told me, or at least informed me that evening once they had changed."

"Yes, professor."

Harry tried hard not to snicker at Draco's overly contrite tone, he really did. Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely successful. McGonagall turned her disapproval in his direction.

"You aren't innocent in this matter either, Mr. Potter. I do believe you know how to owl as well."

Harry didn't respond, for he had no excuse. He settled for a meek nod, ignoring the satisfaction he could feel radiating off of Draco. Before yesterday, it would have pissed him off. Now all he wanted to do was kiss that smug smile right off the blonde's face (he just knew it was there).

McGonagall was silent for a long moment, regarding each boy in turn. "I take it," she said at last, "that the lessons went well?"

Two heads nodded in unison, almost too quickly. They both looked at each other and smiled, and their cheeks flushed. This did not go unnoticed by McGonagall, who suppressed a smile of her own.

"Well," she spoke up at last. "I suppose that means you'll be needing a new place to practice."

"Professor?"

McGonagall mulled the matter over for a moment or two. "...I believe the Defense Against the Dark Arts room would work well."

Harry conjured up an image of the room. Yes, it was plenty large enough, if they moved the desks. Lupin had them fight the bogart in there, and there had been room for it to change into a giant spider and the snake-turned-clown jack in the box (honestly, how had Parvati thought THAT was less scary than a snake?). Surely there was enough room for waltzing.

"You have less than a month until the ball. I trust, Mr. Malfoy, that you can teach Mr. Potter all he needs to know?"

Draco looked at Harry, and there was a hint of a dark promise in those grey eyes, a smirk teasing the corners of his lips. "And then some."

McGonagall coughed, and there was disapproval in the sound. Both boys jumped, standing to attention. "While I am happy you two are getting along, please do keep your after-hour antics to a minimum. I would appreciate it if Mr. Potter is actually able to perform at the ball."

Draco nearly choked at the words. Surely McGonagall had to realize the way "after-hour antics" sounded. Harry smacked Draco, glaring, but his cheeks were pink, that gorgeous blush that Draco was so quickly falling in love with. "Shut up," Harry hissed, and turned apologetically to McGonagall. "We'll practice," he assured her. "We promise." Turning, he grabbed Draco's hand and gave a tug, pulling the boy with him out the door.

McGonagall watched them go with a barely suppressed smile. She had often wondered over the years if the two would get together or kill one another. Now she had her answer.


As soon as they were out in the hallway, Harry smacked Draco's shoulder again. "What the heck is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry!" Draco protested. "But seriously...come on! "After-hour antics"? There's no WAY she didn't realize how inappropriate that sounds! And then she says she wants me to make sure you're able to PERFORM? I mean, come ON!"

Harry was blushing. "Maybe you've just got a dirty mind."

"Oh, bullshit. You thought the same exact thing."

Harry chose not to dignify that with a response, though his silence was all the confirmation that the Slytherin needed. He could see Draco grinning out of the corner of his eye. "So," he said. "Defense Against the Dark Arts Room."

"Guess so."

"And...you're okay with that?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "I don't know. I kind of wanted to find someplace more...private."

Draco looked curiously at the Gryffindor. "You think someone will come in on us?" Then a more horrible thought occurred. "Are you embarrassed of being seen with me?"

"No!" Harry was horrified. "GOD, no! How could you even think that?"

"I don't know! I mean, it wasn't that long ago we were at each other's throats." Two days, to be exact.

Harry had to concede the point. Still: "Well, I'm not. At all."

The smallest smile crossed the blonde's lips; he ducked his head to hide it, but Harry saw it all the same. "Good." After a moment, he realized that Harry hadn't given him an answer. "So what's the problem?"

Another awkward shrug. "...I just..." The next words were mumbled so quietly that Draco had to lean in closer to hear them. "...kind of wanted to sleep with you again." Immediately Harry's head shot up, eyes wide. "Not like...I mean SLEEP with you sleep with you. Like...ACTUALLY sleep. Not sex. Not that'd I'd object to sex, I'd love to have sex with you again. I just...I mean..." But he got no further before Draco, who had been staring at Harry, completely taken aback, burst into uncontrollable laughter. Harry's expression grew rueful. "Laugh it up, Malfoy."

"I'm sorry," Draco gasped. "I just...can't. Oh my God."

"I'm glad you find me so amusing."

"Oh, I do." Finally getting his laughter under control, Draco stepped closer, running his fingers through Harry's messy hair. Harry leaned into the touch, eyes going half-lidded, like a cat's. Draco smiled. "I'm glad you'd like to sleep with me again. I mean sleep with me sleep with me." Those green eyes opened, narrowing into a glare, and Draco laughed again.

"Keep going, Malfoy, and I'll withdraw the part about the sex."

"Okay, I take it back, I take it back," Draco hastily said. Harry grinned, and leaned in for a kiss.

"Good," he whispered, and his lips softly brushed Draco's. Draco pressed happily into the kiss.

"So," he murmured in between kisses. "What should we do about our situation?"

The Gryffindor nuzzled along Draco's throat, humming thoughtfully. "...I suppose we could always find a way to bring a bed with us." After all, wizards had tents that had entire rooms inside them. How difficult could it be to manage one bed?

Draco seemed to read his mind. "You thinking we do a little camping?"

Harry grinned. "Think it'll work?"

The Slytherin nodded, smiling back. "I think it sounds perfect."


McGonagall had been right: the Defense Against the Dark Arts room was a perfect size. The two boys had magicked all the desks out of the way, leaving plenty of space for dancing. It also left room for a fairly small tent. At first they had contemplated simply transfiguring a bed, but in the end, decided it would be better to have the additional coverage that a tent could provide. After all, if anyone DID happen to pop their heads into the room, they were much less likely to notice a tent than they were a bed with two sleeping boys.

It was still fairly early on their second night of practice. Draco, the brat, wasn't dancing with Harry. No, he had stopped their lesson only half an hour in, and told Harry to practice on his own, that he wanted to watch and give pointers on the Gryffindor's form. So here Harry was, waltzing by himself.

"Draco," Harry began, rising and falling somewhat awkwardly, his face bright red, "I feel ridiculous."

Draco was having a hard time stifling his giggles. "You look ridiculous, too."

"Hey! That's not funny, Draco!" But Harry was smiling as he said it.

"Of course it is. Why do you think I had you do this, Harry? Did you honestly think it was going to help your dancing improve? I just had you do it so I could get sick amusement out of it."

Harry nearly stopped dancing at that. It probably would have been better if he had. Instead, he simply tripped...over nothing. The toe of one battered sneaker dug into the polished wood floor and he fell headfirst forwards, barely avoiding a fall. Catching himself, he turned to Draco with wide eyes. "No way!" he squawked.

Draco couldn't avoid laughing that time. "No," he said, trying to cover up his mad giggling with a loud cough. "I was just kidding. This actually will help you improve."

"Oh...okay." Harry continued dancing with just as much luck as before: none. It honestly was much easier with a partner, probably because he felt so silly.

There was a long, silent pause. Then: "...you do look ridiculous, though."

Harry nearly stumbled again. "Well, you know what?" he mock-growled, not really annoyed at all. "If you're so good at it, why don't you..." He got no further. Draco grabbed him from behind, hands pressing flat-palmed against his hips. Harry froze, his heart thudding dully against his chest.

"...fancy a bit of help?" purred that familiar voice. Harry let out his breath in a long sigh.

"How did you guess?"

Draco chuckled, his breath warm against Harry's ear as he did so. "Hmmm," he hummed, pretending to think hard about the question. "...it wasn't that difficult."

Harry laughed. "Thanks a lot."

"Don't mention it." Draco's body was pressed against Harry's, a fact that was keeping Harry's heart pounding away fiercely. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight or maybe even at all. "Come on, Harry...it's easy." Draco's hands moved, sliding gently and soft-palmed down Harry's thighs. "...like this." And he began moving with Harry, pressing his body against Harry's own and counting off the steps aloud. "One two three, four five six, one two three, four five six. Front side side, back side side..." with each step, Draco pressed against Harry, steering the brunette through the steps and also the motions, guiding him up and down each time. A good thing, too, for with Draco pressed against him like that, Harry was certain he could never have remembered which way was up or which was down, let alone have remembered to move in those directions.

"Draco…" he managed.

"Yes?" The whisper was so close, Draco's breath teasing across his neck and sending shivers up and down his spine. Harry promptly forgot every single step to the waltz.

Turns out they didn't get any more dancing done that night.


The days flew by. Most nights, the two spent all of their free time together, even when they weren't dancing. They had figured out places to go where no one would bother them, no one would see them, and every single night was spent together in their tent in the DAtDA classroom, waking early each morning to scamper back to their respective dormitories before anyone would miss them.

The two had grown closer daily, until Harry thought there was probably nothing about Draco he didn't know. He had certainly shared all of his secrets with Draco. He had even told Draco of his life with the Dursleys, and Draco had held him close and comforted him, never once trying to compare their home lives. No, he simply pulled Harry into his arms and kissed him, and made the Gryffindor feel more loved than he had in his entire life.

There was only a week left until the ball, and each day hurt a little bit more. Harry wondered if things would change after that day came and went. Would Draco still spend time with him like this? He felt that the answer must be yes, but there would really be no reason to. Unless they went public. Would Draco even want to go public? And what exactly did they have to go public with? What was this….thing….between them? They had never really discussed it. They danced and laughed together, and even did such mundane things as study and read (Harry found he even enjoyed Draco's silent company). And every single night was spent wrapped in each other's arms, whether they had made love or not.

No, he couldn't bear the thought of letting Draco go.

He looked at the Slytherin. Draco was a few feet away, sprawled on his stomach as he worked on his homework. He had piles of papers spread out before him, and his sleeves were rolled up with those elastic headbands he had worn the day Harry had shown up on his doorstep those few weeks ago. Only this time, he had one in his hair, too, pushing the blonde locks out of his eyes. It should have looked stupid but instead it was ridiculously adorable, and somehow attractive as well. He was scowling down at his textbook, brow crinkled with concentration. Finally, he noticed Harry's attention, the lines fading from his face as he glanced up.

"What," he asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Harry flushed at being caught. "You're just very distracting."

…..distracting.

The word rang in Draco's head, tugging at a recent memory. Oh yes. A grin lit up his face. "I seem to remember you saying that not so long ago." For Harry had said the same thing that night in the dance club.

"Did I?" Harry asked weakly.

"Yes. You did." Draco sounded beyond gleeful; pulling the headband off, he shook his hair free and sat up, facing Harry. "You also never got around to telling me what part of me you found distracting."

Harry scowled. "You get far too much joy out of this."

The blonde laughed. "Oh, come on, Harry, if it were me, you'd be giving me hell." Harry had to concede the point. "So come on, Harry. Tell me."

The Gryffindor was blushing, but he looked Draco straight in the eye and answered. "Everything."

Draco was taken aback. "I…..what?"

"You heard me. I find everything about you distracting."

Draco was staring, completely stunned; Harry returned the gaze, unflinching, refusing to back down, no matter how embarrassed he might be. "You….that…." Draco didn't know what to say to that. No one had ever said anything like that to him before. But then again, no one had ever treated him like Harry, either. He had never met anyone who made him feel so special, like someone worthwhile, someone who honestly made him believe that he wasn't worthless, like his father had told him all these years.

The words came tumbling out before he could stop himself. "I love you."

Those green eyes widened; Harry stared at him, shocked. Draco felt as if he were going to faint. He couldn't believe he had just said that aloud.

"I…..I'm sorry," he managed. Harry's expression faltered.

"Are you?" he asked. There was something about the look on his face that confused Draco. He looked away.

"Yes."

"…..because you didn't mean it?"

But Draco couldn't lie. Harry deserved better than that. He shook his head. "No. No, I meant it."

"Then why on earth are you sorry?"

"Because…." It hurt. God, it hurt. "I shouldn't have said anything. You deserve better than me."

Harry was going to hit him. Christ, he was gonna hit him. "….you….stupid, beautiful idiot."

Draco's head shot up, eyes wide with surprise. "….what?"

But Harry only grabbed Draco, yanking him into a crushing hug. "There is no one better than you," he murmured. "You're all I could ever want."

Draco felt tears burning his eyes. "….Harry…"

The brunette pulled back, softly kissing Draco. "I love you too."

Those were words that Draco had never heard from anyone other than his mother, and never expected to. He had REALLY never expected hear them from someone he truly loved. And Harry? Harry was special.

Draco cupped Harry's face in his hands, kissing him again. "You're wonderful," he murmured.

"Likewise." Harry's hands ran over Draco's shoulders, down his chest. "Draco…." Clearly the blonde was feeling the same way, for he shivered. "Think we can move this to the bed?"

"Definitely."

The tent they had brought with them was a small one. There was only one bedroom inside, along with a tiny kitchen and bathroom, absolutely nothing on what Harry had stayed in when the Weasleys had taken him to the Quidditch World Cup, but he and Draco didn't need anything large.

He pulled Draco down onto the bed with him, hands rucking up the boy's sweater, making a frustrated sound at finding the white button-down beneath. "You always wear too many clothes."

Draco laughed. "Sorry. I'll work on it."

"Please do." He had barely managed to divest Draco of his tops before Draco was doing the same, pulling off Harry's t-shirt and tossing it aside. Both went to work on the other's slacks at the same time as if by unspoken agreement.

Now completely bare, Harry rolled Draco beneath him, a hand fisting in that pale blonde hair as he captured Draco's lips in his. In the small matter of days, Harry had grown much more confident. Draco had given him every reason to be. With all the whimpers and moans of pleasure that every one of Harry's reactions elicited, he had to be doing SOMETHING right, and Draco never failed to offer him reassurances when he asked for them outright.

"Want you," Harry managed breathlessly.

"I'm yours."

Harry paused, staring down at Draco, for this time, there was a far deeper meaning to those words than ever before. Draco didn't just mean it physically; no. Draco was Harry's, body, mind, and soul. The Gryffindor smiled, a fingertip lightly tracing Draco's jawline. "Likewise."

That one word set Draco's face aglow. Harry had to kiss him, soft and deep, Draco's hands tangling in Harry's messy brown hair.

It was no longer strange or nerve-wracking to stretch Draco open. On the contrary, Harry loved having Draco at his mercy, moaning as Harry's fingers teased him, two stretching, a third teasing over that sweet spot until he was practically sobbing with need.

Tonight, Draco broke, and Harry found himself being flipped onto his back. He stared up at Draco in surprise as the boy grabbed a condom from the bedside table. He seemed to have decided it was time for a bit of payback for he unrolled the condom slowly enough to be torturous, his hands teasingly light on Harry's cock; simultaneously he pressed feather-light kisses across the brunette's thigh, so close and yet so far away from where Harry most wanted attention.

Harry clenched handfuls of blonde hair and pulled; he couldn't help it. "Draco."

Grey eyes flicked up to look at Harry. "Yes, love?"

The endearment made something clench in Harry's gut, sent warmth flooding through him. "Don't tease," Harry managed through clenched teeth.

Draco smiled. "Wouldn't dream of it." Shifting, he positioned himself above Harry. The brunette's eyes widened. Was Draco going to ride him? Apparently so, for now Draco took Harry in hand and slowly, carefully, he eased himself down onto Harry's cock, breath coming in a sharp hiss at the initial breach.

"Draco." It was so different than the feeling of having Draco on his back, but no less intense. And seeing Draco there above him? God. Harry stared up at him, eyes wide. Fully-seated now, Draco smiled down at him and held out his hands. Harry took them, linking their fingers. Then, Draco began to move.

Harry couldn't tear his eye away. Draco was gorgeous. His hips rolled in smooth, steady motions. Somehow he even made sex look like he was dancing; he was that fluid and graceful. And fuck all, but it felt amazing.

"Draco," Harry managed. Draco merely smiled, leaning down to claim a kiss. Harry released one of Draco's hands so that he could cup the boy's cheek, deepening the kiss. Eventually he got the presence of mind to work with Draco, their hips rocking together as he moved to meet Draco's movements. He planted his feet against the mattress so that he could thrust up harder into Draco.

"Fuck!" Yes, that did it. Draco's grip on Harry's hand tightened. "Holy shit, Harry."

Feeling rather smug that he had the hang of things now, Harry repeated the move, delighting in the moan he wrung out of Draco. He moved a hand to Draco's cock and began to pump it in rhythm with their motions. Draco was close, Harry could tell from the way his cock was weeping.

Shifting, Harry wrapped an arm about Draco's back and pulled the boy further into his lap so that he could get the angle deeper, thrusting harder. It was a very good thing they had the privacy of the tent, for the cry Draco let out was extremely loud. "Harry!"

"I love you," Harry murmured, kissing Draco's throat. "I love you so much."

That was all it took, those few words and Draco was coming. As usual with them, one followed the other. Harry came as Draco clung to him, shivering with the aftershock of all that had just happened. Harry continued to lay kisses all along Draco's throat, his shoulders. Eventually, Draco withdrew so he could look Harry in the eye; he cupped the brunette's face, kissing him.

"I love you, Harry Potter," he said softly. "More than anything in this world."

Harry looked into those beautiful eyes and thought he could melt. He didn't know how they had come here in such a short amount of time (only two and a half weeks!) but he thanked God for it every day, for bringing Draco Malfoy into his life. Smiling, he brushed a lock of blonde hair behind Draco's ear. "I love you, too," he murmured. "I love you, too."

~tbc~