You never know when you're gonna meet someone

And your whole wide world in a moment comes undone

You're just walking around and suddenly

Everything that you thought that you knew about love is gone

You find out it's all been wrong

And all my scars don't seem to matter anymore

Because they've led me here to you

I know that it's gonna take some time

I've got to admit that the thought has crossed my mind, that this might end up like it should

And I'm gonna say what I need to say and hope to God that it don't scare you away

Don't want to be misunderstood

But I'm starting to believe that this could be the start of something good

-Daughtry

It was another four hours before Harry was finally able to excuse himself from the party, mostly due to a drunken Hagrid who had been keen on keeping Harry pinned to his side and telling him weepy stories of his adventures with Aragog. Luckily enough for him, McGonagall was still abnormally perceptive whilst intoxicated, and knew all too well how long Hagrid could go on about the deceased spider. A small flick of her wand had sent Hagrid into a light doze, and Harry had left not a minute later.

His feet pounded into the pavement in front of Grimmauld Place so hard his legs almost gave. He jogged up the front steps, muttered the password and pushed through the newly opened door. Shallow breaths filled his lungs and his ribs vibrated with the quickened beat of his heart. The narrow entry hall was dark and cold with absence. Harry peered around the corner into the drawing room but found it empty as well. His mouth twitched into a frown as he flipped the light switch.

"Draco!" he called, only to feel the emptiness around him press in. Draco had said he'd be here. Maybe he'd thought Harry would've taken longer?

Harry's frown deepened. "Draco?" The wooden stairs creaked beneath his trainers as he made his way up to the second floor.

"Dra—." Then he heard something—a soft hissing coming from the third floor. It sounded like—"the shower?"

Harry took the rest of the stairs two at a time, and as he traveled up he could hear something else behind the hissing—a voice; soft and humming. Harry crossed the hall that led to his bathroom and immediately noticed light peeking through the crack at the bottom of the door. He walked up to it, his hand reaching out for the doorknob, but just as his fingers slid over the cool metal, he paused.

Something warm rose in him then. He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to the door, letting the soft sound fill him. Draco was singing. There were no words, just the soft lulling notes of a lullaby. The notes rose like the swell of a tide, drifting across the air and stirring it gently. It was achingly beautiful.

Harry knocked twice. The singing stopped.

"Harry?" came Draco's voice from behind the door. Strangely enough, he sounded unsure.

Harry opened the door slowly, not quite confident that he was allowed in. "Yeah, it's me," he said meekly.

Draco's response was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "I was wondering when you'd finally show up."

Seeing as Draco hadn't commented on Harry entering, he decided to venture in a bit further. He sidestepped into the room and shut the door softly behind him. Harry's eyes immediately found Draco and were locked. The shower was large and glass—though not nearly as nice as Draco's—and steam fogged the blonde's silhouette as it billowed over the top in hot waves. But Harry could still see him well enough. Draco's back was towards him, and his skin looked as pure and white as alabaster, still carrying that iridescent glow it always had after healing spells. The sharp lines of his shoulders dipped down into a perfectly tapered waste and for a moment Harry wondered what it would be like to run his hand down that bare back: to memorize the dips and curves and the way the muscles felt under Draco's skin as he moved.

"Are you going to come in?"

Draco's voice broke the heat of Harry's mind. "Wha—what?"

"Stuttering isn't as cute as you think, Potter. You heard what I said."

Harry swallowed thickly. "I didn't…actually."

"I asked if you were going to join me. Or are you just going to stand there and stare like a pervy git?"

Harry choked and a red heat rose into his cheeks. Somehow he couldn't manage to articulate an answer.

"Well?" Draco asked again, ever impatient.

"I…well I—uh—"

"You talk about wanting me in your bed, but you balk at the idea of taking a shower with me? Should I be offended?"

Again, Harry couldn't manage to respond. He felt odd—his blood growing overwhelmingly hot beneath his skin as the beast in his chest growled. The problem wasn't wanting to get into the shower with Draco; it was the fact that he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself if he did.

"Just get your clothes off and get in here."

Without further hesitation Harry began to strip, all the while trying to ignore the tremor in his hands and shakiness of his knees. He threw his shirt to the floor, and his jeans jeans followed shortly after. His thumbs paused at the band of his boxers, slipping them slowly down over his hips as he sucked in a heady breath. He had never felt so naked as he did now, and with an embarrassed flush he muttered a spell to dim the lights.

He heard Draco's chuckle echo and play off the tile. "Trying to set the mood are you?"

This time, Harry decided not to respond. He knew if he did something stupid would come out, or the words would get jumbled—he wasn't exactly the most fluid speaker under pressure, especially in situations like this. Not that he had ever been in a situation like this before. In fact, he didn't even really know what was going on, but the beast in his chest was rumbling now, pacing back and forth impatiently and snarling at every hesitation.

Still not quite sure of himself, Harry pulled the shower door open and stepped in. Barely thinking now, he pulled it back shut behind him. He barely had time to turn back around before Draco's hands were on him, pulling him close and crushing their mouths together. Harry tangled his hands in Draco's hair, gasping at the feeling of so much bare skin pressed against his own. His heart was beating so hard he felt as if it might burst out of his chest.

"Harry," Draco whispered in his ear, turning him and pressing him hard against the wall. The tile was cold and rough against Harry's skin, but it was nothing compared to the way Draco's chest felt, all bone and hard lines. Harry groaned as Draco's teeth moved against his pulse point, hot water pouring between them and making their bodies slick.

"Harry," there was a weak sort of tremor in Draco's voice, "…I have to tell you something."

"It's okay, Draco, you don't have to say anything," Harry said slowly, his mind as fogged as the glass. He was painfully aware of how aroused they both were, and of how tightly the cord of his control was being pulled. Draco's hands, his mouth, his body, was driving Harry mad, his mind whittled down to a singular thought that somehow encompassed his entire reality. "I want it too."

Draco's mouth stopped and he pulled back to look at Harry. "What? Harry…no I—"

Harry kissed him fiercely and everything around him seemed to become faded and mute. When he finally pulled back he saw only Draco eyes, staring at him with some indefinable fire. "Draco…I want it to be you."

Draco made a soft gagging noise. "What?"

"I want it to be you."

There was a short pause. "We are talking about sex here right?"

Harry blanched at his own boldness but nodded.

"Harry…I won't…you know I can't." Draco shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to be the one to bloody deflower the savior of the wizarding world. Now listen, please, there's something—"

Harry kissed him again, slowly this time, allowing himself to feel every aspect of the body so firmly pressed against his own. The beast was roaring inside his chest and his blood was pounding in his ears like a drum. But here with Draco, everything felt safe and right. He couldn't imagine it being any other way.

"Harry," Draco breathed against him, his voice low and frayed around the edges.

Harry tangled his fingers even deeper into Draco's hair and was rewarded with a breathless moan. "Please," Harry whispered.

Draco's head tipped backward, his breath labored and his pupils blown wide. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do this my way—the Slytherin way—got it?"

Harry nodded, because he needed Draco on him again and he didn't care how he got him there. Draco kissed him hard while his hands tore down Harry's body leaving thick red lines in their wake. Then Draco spun Harry once more, so his chest was pressed against the cold stone. The Slytherin sunk his teeth into the nape of Harry's neck and Harry let out a hiss of ecstatic pain. After that his mind lost track. The hot water streamed down, falling between bunched cords of muscle, and Draco was pressed hard against his back; biting, kissing, scratching, and doing everything in his power to brand himself into Harry's skin. Harry pressed his eyes shut, trying to grasp it, but he couldn't. Everything was moving all too quickly and he couldn't help but be swept along with it.

"Harry," Draco whispered in his ear, his voice seeming half broken.

Draco's hand slid wetly down his back and lower still. Harry gasped, his back arching as he felt Draco's finger press into him. The sensation was odd and slightly overwhelming. He would've probably jerked away if he could, but Draco's other arm held him tight around the waist, his nails digging into the skin of Harry's hip. A breathless spell spilled over the Slytherin's lips and suddenly Draco's fingers became hot and slick. Gripping Harry tighter, Draco dared to stretch him again. Pain gathered at the base of Harry's spine and shot up, and he had to bite his tongue against the cry that had gathered in his throat. Blood pooled in his mouth, wet and coppery, and slid down his throat. But then there were lips on his lips on his ear, whispering soft words and sending soothing chills across Harry's nerves. Draco gripped him harder, as if to let Harry know that he wasn't going anywhere. But Harry wouldn't even if he could. Because somewhere through the haze of pain he loved the feeling of Draco's mouth on his ear, and the hard warmth of his chest pressing against Harry's back, and the way he could feel that Draco was trembling just as much as he was.

They rocked feverishly together, and Harry's ears were filled with the sound of running water and uneven breaths. Draco's fingers curled and Harry threw his head back as a sharp jolt of pleasure tore through him. It seemed to wash everything away, replacing the ache inside of him with a deep and ravenous hunger.

"You're going to be the end of me one of these days, you know that?" Draco growled as he slid his teeth over Harry's the curve of shoulder.

Then suddenly Draco's fingers were gone, replaced by a hot, shooting pain. It felt like he was being ripped in half. Harry choked back a gasp and shut his eyes tighter against the building tears.

"Harry," Draco whispered again, holding himself very still.

Harry's body was pulsing with agony and heat. But then Draco's arm snaked down lower, his hand dipping down between Harry's legs, and he forgot about everything again. Draco held him close, his face buried in Harry's hair he started to move. Harry scraped his nails against the tile and somewhere along the way the pain began to ebb. He hadn't known how to imagine this moment would be, but it was nothing like this. He could never have fathomed this sort of completeness. Then Draco thrust up hard, and Harry's vision burst into a cacophony of stars that made his blood sing. A keening sound escaped him then—coming from somewhere deep that Draco was reaching into.

"Draco," he said, because there was nothing else he could say.

Draco was all around him, in him, and deeper. And it was all going too fast again, just like it had before. Hard and fast and ruthless, Draco took him, and Harry was falling now and he couldn't stop it. But this time he didn't want to. His body was free and alive, and there was such a surge of every feeling he had ever known, coming together all at once and he felt he couldn't possibly contain it all.

Sharp teeth sank into his shoulder, and Draco's voice vibrated against his skin as his hand and body moved together. Harry screamed and threw his head back, reaching up to tangle his fingers in that silky blonde hair.

Harry had no control of anything anymore. "Draco," he breathed, his voice sounding harsh and brittle against the tile. "Draco—ah! Draco!"

And Draco answered him with a cry that sounded desperate and shattered, his hips snapping with hard purpose. Magic began filling the air around them, skittering along the surface of Harry's skin like the tips of needles. "Harry," Draco hissed. "God…Harry." Then, Draco's entire body pulsed, and Harry felt it like a bolt of lightning. A hard jolt shot through him. It started in his neck, shot down his spine and coiled into something so sharp that he could feel it vibrating in his bones. And then it burst. Everything shook violently and he felt his legs go weak as Draco's hand worked him through the end. Harry gasped as the shock left him and a heavy slowness began to creep into his limbs. Everything around him seemed to slow, until the only thing that existed was Draco breathing heavily at his back.

Harry felt Draco's lips curl into a smile against his shoulder before he fell into a breathy fit of laughter. "There's really nothing you're bad at is there"

"Potions," Harry replied weakly, feeling his own mouth lift into a smile.

Draco stepped back, and Harry more than felt the loss. He turned, feeling strangely anxious. But Draco looked at him with eyes that shone and Harry felt his heart swell. Pulling Draco forward, Harry kissed him, and it was wet and slow and perfect.

"Thank you," Harry whispered against his lips.

Draco chuckled. "For what?"

"For that."

"The sex?"

"Yeah." Harry felt his cheeks flush.

Draco hummed thoughtfully. "Why did you wait so long? You must've had plenty of opportunities."

"You mean like, with Ginny?"

"I'm sure there were more than just her. I mean you've seen the crowds. If it was open season to get into your bed, I'd bet you'd have a line that stretched halfway across Europe."

Harry laughed, and the sound echoed around them warmly. "Are you suggesting that I use my fame to get laid?"

"I'm sure there are worse things you could use it for," Draco replied, making a point to sound very serious about it. "I'm coming up with a list. It's going to be long and somewhat diabolical."

"I see." Harry nodded and stepped in closer, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead into Draco's cheek. It felt soft and right in a way that nothing else ever had before. "Well I'm happy it was with you. I know you're going to think it's cheesy, but I always wanted it to be with someone I love."

Draco stiffened ever so slightly and suddenly the water around them seemed very loud. Harry pulled back to look at him. The blonde's eyes didn't shine anymore, at least, not like they did before. There was fear in them now.

Harry bit his lip tentatively, "Draco…you had to know that I do."

"Can't say that I did."

"Well…I do. I love—"

"I've never had anyone say that to me before." Draco's tone was as hard and cold as marble. "You shouldn't be saying it to me now."

"Why not?" Harry laughed nervously.

Sighing, Draco leaned his forehead against Harry's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, holding Harry tight. "Harry…there are things you don't know…things I need to tell you. But I don't know how."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Just tell me you don't love me."

Harry gripped at Draco's shoulders, scared and confused. "I can't do that."

"Please," Draco whispered.

Harry's world seemed to tilt on its axis, because Draco never said things like 'please'. A hard stone fell in Harry's stomach. "I can't take it back. I won't." Harry was glad for the water now, and that his face was already wet. He didn't understand why Draco kept doing this. He didn't understand why he was still so scared. "Unless you say that you don't feel the same way."

Draco jerked up so suddenly that Harry started. With a flashing snarl, Draco slammed him back against the tile, looking half wild. "No! Don't say that—how could you ever think that?"

"Then what?" Harry whispered, trying to draw the words out of him like poison.

"I—I care for you," Draco's brows knitted together, as if what he said confused him somehow, "more deeply than I should. But you can't love me…not after everything I've done. I won't allow it."

"You…won't allow it? You're joking, right?"

Releasing his hold on Harry's shoulders, Draco stepped back and turned off the water. The silence was harsh and immediate. Harry's breathing sounded rough in the dim steamed air, and he longed to say the words that were trapped in his chest. But there were too many of them, and they were all whirling about feverishly.

Draco brought himself up to his full height, which in actuality wasn't any taller than Harry, but he made it a point to make himself look so. "For once, I'm not joking." He turned on his heel and walked out of the shower, cold and stiff as the day Harry had met him.

Harry followed. "I don't understand."

Draco grabbed his trousers from the countertop and pulled them on. "You don't have to understand."

"Draco," Harry stepped in front of the other boy, staring at him hard. "Stop it. Why are you being like this?"

Draco didn't look at him, "Like what?"

"Like you're scared to even look at me!"

Draco did look at him then, and there was a darkness there Harry had never seen before. Harry stepped back instinctively.

"I…" Draco took his shirt and began twisting it in his hands, "I've never told anyone I love them before…ever. You know why. And Merlin knows I've fought this—this thing between us. I've told you before that it could never work, and in the shower I thought…I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"That you can't love me."

"How in the world—"

"It will end, Harry," Draco interrupted abruptly. "Maybe not today or next week or next month, but it will, and I'll not have you waste something so unspoiled on me."

Reeling, Harry's mouth opened and closed several times before he finally found his voice again. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"

Draco blinked.

"Telling me I can't love you—you have no right! It's my life, Draco!"

"And I'm not going to let you ruin it."

"I'm nearly eighteen years old! You can't tell me what to do!"

"I realize that. And you don't have to be so loud about it!"

Clenching his jaw, Harry grabbed his clothes from the floor and stormed out of the bathroom. He heard Draco close on his heels, and he was such an embarrassed fury he hardly knew where his feet were taking him. This couldn't be healthy—flying through emotions like this.

Somehow or another he found himself in his bedroom. He threw his clothes to the floor and went to his dresser, and began rummaging through the drawers with purpose. He threw on the first pair of boxers he found and slammed the drawer shut, relishing in the crash that broke the night air that hung about him with such ironical tranquility. It was wrong somehow. It should be storming.

"Harry," Draco was still standing in the doorway. "I didn't mean to upset you."

This time it was Harry who refused to turn around. "Then what did you mean to do?"

"Protect you."

Harry shook his head, his temper quaking.

"When I told you that I care about you, I meant it. Do you think I want to see you hurt—like I've hurt you before?"

"That makes no sense," Harry's fingers curled and tightened into fists and then relaxed again. "Do you think you're going to hurt me again?"

"I know I'm going to."

Harry spun around wildly. "Why?"

Draco raised his chin, trying to keep face. "Because that's what I do, Harry."

"Draco," Harry nearly choked on his name. There was something large and aching growing just behind his sternum, pressing outwards and making his eyes sting. He felt like a bomb ready to explode. "We've already talked about this! Stop making up excuses!" He was yelling again, if only to release some of the pressure building inside of him. "Why are you so scared of what's going on between us? Why are you so scared of someone actually caring about you?"

Harry's words hit Draco like a staggering blow. He flinched, throwing out his hand to steady himself on the doorframe.

"That's what it is, isn't it?" Harry continued. "You're still trying to turn this around on me because you're scared shitless of what it means! Don't think I don't know you, Draco! And don't think for a second that that bloody nonsense will work on me!"

There was a soft sheen in Draco's eyes now, and his mouth had stretched down at the corners. "You're too reckless for your own good."

That wasn't the response Harry had been expecting. He tripped over it for a moment before responding, "Well that's my prerogative."

"It's going to get you killed one day."

Harry glared at him. "Does this mean you're done being an idiot now? Or are you just trying to start a different fight?"

With difficulty, Draco released his hold on the doorframe and started towards Harry. Harry tried to step back only to have the dresser block him. Draco raised his hands to cup Harry's face, staring down at him with tender grey eyes. "You're the one who's the idiot, and Merlin help me…I do love you for it."

Harry held very still, his heart suddenly pounding. He wasn't sure what it was about Draco's hands that affected him this way.

Slowly, Draco leaned forward, peppering small kisses across his nose and cheeks. "I don't know what you've done to me." He kissed Harry's lips softly. "And I already told you that I was too selfish to let you go once I had you."

"Too bad," Harry said sullenly. "You have me."

"And here I was trying to be good for once, and you, of all people, are the one who's making me stop."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."