A/N: I know it's been forever since I've updated! I'm really sorry, but school is my first priority, and I had a project due every day, a test some days, and quizzes others. It was really hectic. Anyway, this chapter is un-beta'ed by my choice. I figured you had waited long enough, so I decided to post it as soon as I finished. Also, I'll make sure to reply to your reviews/PMs. It might be a while though (I'm really busy). :(
And, in case any of you care/want to follow me, my Twitter account is LoonyLunaL. :D
"Draco, are you alright?" My chin rested on the palm of my hand, and my eyes stared vacantly off at some distant point in the wall. I was dreading tonight. News had traveled even more quickly than I had thought possible. Everywhere Harry and I went, glaring eyes followed us. It wasn't that it particularly bothered me that everyone was looking at me. It was more of the way they were looking at me. Great, beady eyes filled with disgust danced around the room with us, sneers often accompanying them.
"Yes, I'm perfectly alright. I've only gone from a well-respected Slytherin Pureblood to Hogwarts reject." Despite my mind's frantic pleas not to, I sneered at him.
"Look, it's not my fault th –" Upon seeing the way I cocked my eyebrow, he amended what he had just said. "Okay, so it is mainly my fault, but you should just ignore them."
"Easy for you to say."
"Is it?"
"As the Golden Boy, I'm sure that you're used to getting all this attention. And even in second year everyone thought you opened the Chamber of Secrets. I'm sure you just thrive on the way everyone coos over you." I knew I had gone too far as soon as the words left my mouth, but at the moment, I didn't particularly care. From the way his eyes narrowed, and he ground his teeth, I could tell that I had indeed struck a nerve.
"You don't know anything about that, Malfoy," he hissed out. "Do you think it's easy for me to deal with all this? Spoiled filthy rich, daddy's little boy – what were you, jealous that I got more attention than you?"
"You don't know a fucking thing about my father. And why would I want to be jealous of you? The only thing that makes you 'special' is that filthy scar on your forehead." Now, I had crossed too one too many lines.
"This scar is the reason my parents are dead. But maybe you're too busy wiping the Dark Lord's ass to even notice anything!" He stood up, flinging the chair far behind him and letting it clatter against the floor.
"Is there anything wrong, Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick let his wand drop to his side as he gave a questioning gaze toward Potter. Snickers echoed throughout the room.
"No, nothing's wrong, sir," he mumbled quietly before picking up and slipping back into his chair.
"Oh, Potter and Malfoy are probably just having relationship issues," Pansy trilled, an overly irksome smirk painted on her face.
"Oh, is that so? Mr. Potter an–" He cut off, and looked at us wide-eyed. There was only so much I could do to keep from laughing. "I…see. Well, calm yourself, Mr. Potter." And then he went back to his lesson, still a bit boggled. Harry crumpled down onto the desk, complete hopelessness washing over his face.
"Harry, I'm terribly –" I couldn't bring myself to say that one word. Not again. I'd said it plenty of times in the past week. I could just cover my mouth and bite my tongue. There was no way I was – "I'm really, really sorry." Dammit. Still, he didn't seem to understand that my apology was something severe enough to make him want to pinch himself just to see that he wasn't dreaming.
"I don't think you're ever going to hear me say this again, so listen up. You don't thrive on attention, and I know you've suffered a lot because of that stupid lightning bolt on your head." He looked as if he wanted to say something, but I pressed on. I might as well get this over with. "But I'm a Malfoy, and if there's anything a Malfoy values, it's his pride and other's respect. And right now, I seem to be rather lacking both." I finished and glared distantly once more.
"You know, if you two are going to act like this, I'm not sure you're not just as well off as enemies," Weasley grumbled.
"Don't butt in." Granger elbowed him. "Just practice the spell."
"But this spell is ridiculous! When are we ever going to need to 'make things hard.'?" I couldn't help but chuckle, and Harry seemed to notice the humor in it, too. Weasley had, however, directed the question toward the bushy-haired girl and didn't seem to notice.
"I don't think I need a spell to make some things hard," I whispered to Harry.
"I don't know. I can see you failing miserably," he taunted.
"Are you going to have to make me prove myself? I'd only be too happy to oblige." My offer successfully managed to produce a crimson blush from his cheeks. All previous argument was, at this point, completely forgotten.
"Gods, are you trying to test my gag reflex?" Weasley's face was greener than his hair was red.
"Am I only testing it? Well, then, I guess I my standards are dropping." With that, I leaned into Harry, teasing him with my tongue. It traced against his neck, and outlined his jaw. The salty, confident taste of his skin acted like sweet chocolate to me, and I lapped eagerly at him, letting the incredible flavor of him melt in my mouth. Every dip or dive in his neck, was territory marked by me.
"I think I'm really going to be sick." I chuckled as Granger patted poor Weasley on the back. My lips worked their way up, leaving a blazing trail like a Fire Slug's and latched itself onto his sweet lips. His fingers lightly brushed against my jaw, and my eyes fluttered, opening to see viridian crystals.
"I think I'm going to vomit as well," Nott's scoffed. "This is worse than working with those Flobberworms." I lifted my middle finger, and thankfully, for once, Professor Flitwick didn't see me. However, he turned around a moment later, and saw us snogging.
"Excuse me," his high-pitched voice chirped. "Break it up you two." I could tell he was flustered, and gave a final lick to Harry's lips before I sat facing forward again.
"I'm terribly sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." It was all too tempting to batter my eyelashes innocently at him.
"Suck up," Weasley muttered beside me.
"Sorry, I'd only do that to Harry." Now, I couldn't resist battering my eyelashes. Weasley gagged beside me, burying his face into his arms, and I let a satisfied smirk remain on my lips.
"Now, repeat after me," Professor Flitwick continued. "Duro."
"Duro," the class chorused.
"Very good. Now, you shall practice on these pillows. Get into groups of two."
"Let's think, who'd make a good partner?" I pretended to carefully look around the room, looking everywhere but at Harry. He impatiently tugged at my robe sleeve while I continued to avoid giving him a mere glance.
"Alright, we get that you're a git. Let's go already."
"Patience is a virtue, and I know how badly you want me to make you hard. Don't worry; I have that effect on everyone." My eyebrows waggled suggestively, and I leered at him. He sighed, but I noticed the upward turn of his lips.
"Just a question…" Ah, the apprehension was starting to kick in.
"Yes?"
"Why were you so keen on sitting with Ron right away in Divination?" I figured he'd ask this sooner or later. Somehow I had hoped it would be a bit later, afraid we would get into another fight. After all, things were balanced on a fairly thin line for me right now. While I did like him, per say, I had just lost every ounce of respect that came with the Malfoy name. Perhaps he wasn't even worth it; I wasn't sure myself.
"If I had a choice in the matter, I would not have sat with Weasley."
"What are you talking about? Didn't you practically drag me over to sit with him in Divination?" He did make a good point; why had I dragged him over? I just hoped that the whispers and horrified, intruding faces would stop staring at us. Well, that and another issue.
"What do you think would have happened if I had sat with any of the Slytherins? I'm sure Blaise now hates me as much as Pansy does. Well, I can't see Nott exactly welcoming me back with open arms. 'Oh, Draco, you just snogged Potter, good for you!' Who else was I supposed to sit with? As pathetic as your friends may sometimes be, they at least won't try and hex me."
"My friends aren't pathetic!" he snarled. I sighed and rubbed my temples.
"Let's just get this over with."
"If you're just going to act like that, I don't see why I should try falling out of love. Ron and Hermione are a lot better than your lot. You try to go up to some bloke and you can't even rely on them to be your mate."
"Why do you have to be so ridiculously Gryffindor?"
"At least I'm not Slytherin. 'I'm better than you at being a git.'" My eyes narrowed.
"Whatever, Potter," I venomously spat. I was beginning to forget why I had even let him kiss me in the first place. Right now, it didn't seem like a bad idea to send a hex his way.
"Look, I'm sorry." He looked so tempted to add 'but you are being a git' to that, but instead walked over and wrapped his arms around my waist. His head nuzzled into my shoulder. It wasn't until then I could truly feel how tense he was as well. Obviously, this had not been an easy thing for him to accept either. Reluctantly, I let him, and wove an arm around his waist as well, although semi-awkwardly.
"It's okay," I finally managed to choke out. "At least, it's okay, if you promise to make it up to me later." He looked up at me with a cocked eyebrow.
"And I can do that how?" I smirked mischievously.
"There are plenty of ways, most involving your tongue."
"There are other ways?"
"Well, those involve…other parts of you." I let my eyelids droop slightly, and gave him a cheeky grin. "And I'll need cheering up after I go visit Father."
"Boys, are you working on the spell?" Flitwick's voice carried over class. Grabbing a pillow, I faced Harry.
"Your turn."
"Duro." There was a wave of his wand, though nothing eventful exactly happened. We took turns for the rest of the class.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
"Well, that day was certainly interesting." Now that we were away from all overly curious eyes and gaping faces, I felt fully relaxed. My teeth probably had worn a centimeter from how much I had grinded them. If one more person had given us the, 'Eww, Malfoy and Potter together?' speech one more time, I couldn't help but wonder if I would have stupefied him.
But once diner had come about, we managed to escape into the forest. Ironically enough, without meaning to, we ended up in that same clearing he had first kissed me. I lay down on the ground, staring up at him. He had the cutest expression on his face, and I was horrified to learn that I had noticed it. His hair was tussled, and I found it amazingly difficult to resist from running my fingers through it. It just looked too damn irresistible. Behind his glasses, the emerald eyes sparkled, and matched the sweet smile on his lips.
"Interesting is one word for it," I replied, giving him a drowsy smile. He responded by blushing, and running a hand through his hair.
"You look really beautiful when you're peaceful." He looked at me, almost into to me, his eyes shining with the smallest hint of lust.
"Haven't you noticed? I look 'really beautiful' all of the time." He crouched down, legs suddenly straddling my waist.
"You do." His eyes began to smolder, and his hand reached down, gently tracing a strand of hair away from my forehead. "You're hiding something, Draco. You may act like you don't care, but there's something in those silver eyes of yours. Something…tragic." So, he had been looking attempting to read my soul. A shiver snaked down my spine.
"You can't solve me by trying to answer my riddles with your own."
"That's what you think," he whispered, his voice husky and unyielding. While I attempted to prop myself up, he attempted to crouch further down. My jaw twitched as our erections brushed, and a gasp caught in my throat. His eyes kindled the same agonizing need, I'm sure mine held, and we immediately grabbed at each other, pulling closer. Sweet moans ripped through my body as we rubbed against each other. My fingers curled frenziedly around his locks, and I pulled through, the texture smoother than the finest piece of Chinese silk.
His tongue brushed against my neck, swirling patterns and kneading the skin. With a moan, I arched up, fully grinding against him. My growl turned guttural, and my eyes fluttered. My entire body seemed to pulse with some sort of drug, blood aflame and seeping past the veins, into my bones. His tongue worked its way up, massaging the tender spot just under my ear. My fingers twitched slightly, and my nails dug into his skin until he released a gasp of pain. The moment his tongue lost contact with my skin, my hands found their way to his chin, and I roughly grabbed it, pulling it so that our lips met in a wet, messy kiss.
My own tongue darted out. I had to taste him. I hadn't had thought it possible, but I was ravenous, and it was the kind of hunger that only his skin could satisfy. He tasted just like earlier, sweet, spicy, irresistible, and temptingly forbidden. His jaw twitched momentarily, and he fought back, our tongues wrestling in a fast tempo dance of ecstasy. My hands shifted constantly from his face to his hair and back again. Then, with a final shudder, I moved them down his waist, stopping slightly when I reached his hips. Dragging my fingers lightly inward, I brushed against the bulge that had formed under his robes. His attempt to sharply draw a gasp of breath, stopped his tongue, and I took the pause as an invitation to slowly caress his lower lip, kneading it between my tongue and my lip.
My fingers began to slowly trace over the robes covering his prick. Before he could mutter another incoherent moan, I grabbed it, grasping my fingers around it possessively. The viridian eyes fluttered, and I smirked. "Enjoying it?"
"Just – ugh – faster, Draco." My hand tauntingly slowly down as he said this, and I even stilled my hand completely for a moment. This only incited a needy growl from him.
"Demanding, are we?" The emeralds opened and he narrowed his eyes, though no real spite filled them. Instead, they were clouded over with lust, darkened and just as demanding as the rest of his body.
"Just. Fucking. Move." With a throaty chuckle, I grabbed his cock once more, roughly teasing it through the thin fabric. Sweet nothings flew out of his mouth, although amongst them, I could distinguish my name. It rolled off of his tongue adoringly, savoring the way the r's purred as if deep in his throat. As if it were an alluring half-kilo of saffron placed in front of a penniless chef, it dripped off of his tongue like a melodic, wondrous caress, and my body felt an undeniable possessiveness.
His body arched into my hand, and I felt pressure build in my own cock as I saw him like this, so lost at my touch. I was sure not many people could say that they had seen Harry fuckin' Potter write beneath them like this. Then, again, I was fairly sure no one could say that except for me. This thought didn't do anything to help lessen my smugness. I continued to grab at the fabric, though now my touch became rougher and more urgent. His hips thrust with my own movements, and to shush the spew of words that came out of his mouth, now completely incomprehensible, I latched my lips onto his neck, and let my tongue roam his skin like untouched stretches of land. It mapped every curve, though my lips stayed in their familiar smirk. Then, unable to hold off any longer, I reached frantically for his robes, tugging at them and attempting to pull them off. I wanted nothing more than to see his glorious, naked body underneath me, giving one final jerk as he came violently on me.
Frantically, I pulled slightly ripping the fabric, but only managing to grab his Gryffindor striped tie before his hands settled on my skin.
"St-top," he stuttered, breaths coming in shallow pants. Had I heard him right? My hands continued to roam, fingers working at the buttons when he said it again. "P-please, Dr-raco, stop." My tongue paused as I peered into his bewildered gaze with my own set of perplexed eyes.
"Stop?" I asked, in a confused whisper. It didn't make any sense. As I pulled my hands away, letting them falling limply to the forest ground beneath me, he closed his eyes. Then, he moved away from me, leaving the autumn air now cold against my heated face.
"Shit, this is going to sound ridiculous." He buried his face in his hands, and released a shaky sigh.
"Well, you'd better have some sort of explanation." I didn't mean to snap at him, but I still was attempting to recover from shock. I had almost had sex with Potter. With Harry. It was all too confusing. And I had wanted to! Sure, I may have liked in and decided to give 'dating' – if you really could call it that – him a go, but I didn't figure it would come to this so quickly. And apparently, neither did he.
"Idon'tthinkI'mreadytodothiswithyouyet," he mumbled, lifting his face up to give me a nervous, unsure smile. My eyes were drawn to his lips though, which were swollen and redder than the ripest cherry. They looked too delicious.
"'Sorry, didn't catch that."
"I'm not ready to do this with you. I can't just have sex with you five minutes after we started – well, whatever it is we started. You said yourself that you don't even love me yet! And for Merlin's sake, in the middle of a forest?" I chuckled at his last exclamation, and grinned.
"Well, I guess you do have a point. You might have gotten a little carried away."
"I might have gotten a little carried away?" His skeptical glance sent a slight blush even to my heated face.
"If I recall correctly – which, naturally, I do – you were the one telling me to go faster."
"And I placed your hands on my cock?"
"You might as well have." It was only a slight fib. But the whole thing had felt all too good. There was no use making excuses now. Rolling my eyes, I attempted to brush it off as something simple and meaningless.
"Details, details."
"You don't seem too upset." True enough. I wasn't particularly disappointed or even angry. For once, I agreed that things had gone too quickly. Perhaps sometime, when we were more comfortable and didn't have to worry about leaves sticking to our arse, we might take things a step further. For right now, I preferred to keep things merely to kissing. The last thing I needed was regretting sleeping with Harry. The thought sent chills down my spines. I dismissed them for disgust, but somehow I knew it was something else. His glance was curious, so I decided to respond to his statement.
"I guess I'm not. Never thought I'd admit you were right, but why rush things? Still, a Malfoy gets what he wants."
"You still consider yourself a Malfoy? Wouldn't your father say something along the lines of, 'Disgracing the Malfoy name'?" He said it jokingly, but my teeth still contorted quickly into a snarl.
"I don't give a fuck about what my father says." Sensing my anger, he quickly backed off.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything – well, you know."
"Let's just not get into this fight again. Not now. I can't use Pansy's utter annoyingness as an excuse if it's just the two of us." He laughed at that, and I rubbed the bridge of my nose as if attempting to soothe a headache, and proceeded to close my eyes. An arm pulled around me, and I grinned.
"I'm still going to hold you."
"I'm not a breathing teddy bear, you know." Although I attempted to sound serious, I only managed to create a teasing lilt to my voice. So, instead, he hugged me more tightly and pulled his fingers through my hair.
"So, you really are a softie at heart?" He nuzzled into my neck, tongue licking it slightly like an affectionate cat might.
"Definitely not." For once tonight, sarcasm wasn't coating every word I said.
"I don't see you complaining." His calloused fingers traced over my cheekbones, and I automatically smiled at his touch.
"Doesn't mean I'm affectionate. You know, I am a teenage boy. There's this thing called hormones…"
"Oh, sod it," he playfully whispered into my ear. "You know, you look so aristocratic." He sounded teasing, yet complimenting at the same time. It was a strange combination.
"How so?" He shrugged.
"Your face."
"Bravo on the descriptions. Fantastic imagery, really." My voice dripped with sarcasm.
"'Fantastic imagery' – what are you, a Literature teacher?"
"No, but it doesn't mean that I don't read. Not all of us have Granger to depend on when the time comes." He scoffed, but pulled away and gave me a curious look.
"What do you read?"
"Shakespeare, Bacon, T.S. Eliot, Oscar Wilde…"
"You read books by Muggles!" He seemed truly shocked, but I could only roll my eyes at his ignorance. Perhaps I could grudgingly learn to respect Granger a little. She did have to, after all, put up with this.
"Honestly, you really don't read, do you? They were all wizards. Anyone with any basic knowledge would know that."
"Well – erm – I guess I never really bothered." He scuffed his foot on the ground and stared at his shoe. I placed a kiss on his forehead and ran a hand through his hair, only further messing it up.
"Don't worry. I'll have plenty of time to teach you." As he groaned, I smirked. Then, something popped into my head. I gave him a mischievous grin, and he pulled away, eying me suspiciously.
"What?"
"Told you I don't need a spell to make some things hard."
"Oh, sod it."
A/N: Did you like it? Did you? :D I did more fluff! I also tried to make them more in character, but I'm not sure how I did. Anyhoo, please rate and review. Since you people obviously do care about giving me feedback (*squee*), I won't ask for any review requirements.
As for me, I really like Neil Gaiman's books. He's one of my favorite authors (up there with JKR). I also am pretty nerdy when it comes to Shakespeare. He's pretty darn epic, so... I guess The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nightime is also an amazing book. Oh, and the Bartimaeus Trilogy is up there.
Hmm, since I always try and ask a question (*flails arms* Authors-reviewer interaction!)... What are some of your favorite fanfics? ;)
I have finals coming up, and I don't know when I'll be next able to post. I'll try to work on it, but I really want to get all A's on my finals, so I can't promise you anything.