MEMORY VIAL 16: FIRE UNDER THE SUMMER STARS (YEAR 4)

In the beginning of June, on a Friday morning, when Harry was strolling into the Potions classroom with his friends, someone yanked him backward by the collar of his robes, just as Hermione and Ron were headed to their seats.

"What the—get off!"

"Tonight, at the Astronomy Tower."

A secretive voice was drawling close against Harry's ear, and it sent a tremor of recognition through him. "Malfoy…?"

"The sky will be clear. Not a single cloud, Potter, so bring your broom and meet me there."

Harry's heart skipped a beat as Draco brushed past him. Then Draco stalled, smirked confidently over his shoulder, and then added, "Almost forgot. Let's try for one in the morning this time. I have an idea to get past Blaise if he gets insomnia again, so wait for me if you have to." After delivering those instructions, he ambled over to his seat next to Pansy, who was busy comparing her homework against Millicent's and Daphne's.

Harry wrinkled his forehead as he deliberated on what he'd been told. He and Draco had tried five times to get together over the past few months, but each time something or someone, like Blaise, had impeded at least one of them from making it to their agreed-upon meeting spot.

He wondered if he'd be able to get away with sneaking around tonight, with the Marauder's Map on loan to Professor Moody, who could see through his Cloak and had stopped him from wandering the castle at night on two occasions already. More importantly, Harry wondered if he could bring himself to disobey his godfather, since Sirius had explicitly forbade him from meeting with anyone alone after the incident with Krum and Mr. Crouch.

But Harry's fingertips tingled at the ghost sensation of Draco's breath against his ear…

He had a sense that tonight's tryst wasn't simply an exercise in flying or arguing about Harry's ragtag group of friends. Draco's unusually upbeat smile and flirtatious manner while delivering his message implied that he had more of a date in mind than anything else.

Sorry, Sirius, Harry thought as he trudged guiltily into the classroom, but if you felt like this for anyone before, I'd like to think you'd understand.

"Honestly, I didn't think you'd make it." Draco straightened off the wall when Harry appeared at the bottom landing of the Astronomy Tower. "After all the bad luck we've had so far."

"I was afraid of that, too," Harry said earnestly. Presumably, Professor Moody wasn't reading the Marauder's Map this late at night.

"You brought your broom, I see?"

Raising his left arm, Harry showed Draco that he had brought the Firebolt as requested.

Draco nodded. "I've got mine too, now follow me. I think you're going to get a kick out of this."

Harry climbed the narrow flight of stairs behind him. All the while, Draco never said a word, so Harry's curiosity was piqued for all the possible events that could unfold while they were scuttling through the sleeping castle alone together like this. When he finally couldn't take not knowing what they were doing any longer, he asked, "What is this about?"

At that precise moment, they emerged at the very top, and the warm wind whipped through their hair as they stepped into the open air.

"You gave me what I asked for on Christmas, Potter, so I had a mind to return the favor. The stars, remember? Not that I think a certain constellation is of any serious interest to you, but you did ask me to point it out to you while we were at the ball." Draco took a firm grip on his Nimbus and then mounted it. "And not only that," he went on, "but we've not had Quidditch at all this year—which means we haven't been able to play Cat-and-Mouse in the sky as usual. So I figured we could play while everyone's asleep."

"It would be brilliant if we had the Snitch," Harry said, feeling touched by the other boy's thoughtfulness, but also wondering how something like that was supposed to play out without the proper Quidditch equipment.

Draco's eyes shined in the moonlight as he pulled out a tiny drawstring bag from the pocket of his robes, out from which he extracted a familiar and tiny gold-winged orb.

"You," Harry marveled, "you didn't. But how? And tell me the truth. You won't be able to convince me that Madam Hooch lent you that."

"I stole it, obviously," Draco said, as if Madam Hooch guarding it was only a minor inconvenience. "Don't look so surprised, Potter. Or don't you already know I'd steal the moon for you if I could?"

"You thieving little ferret…" Harry stepped closer as Draco held the Snitch aloft. "It's going to be hard to find in the dark, though."

"True." Draco leaned closer, as if everything he was about to say was a secret. "But we've faced worse conditions, you and me… rain, sleet, and snow… darkness, cold, and scorching heat. But tonight? The weather is perfect." Draco grinned devilishly at him as he released the Snitch and let it zip off into the cloudless night. And with a dramatic flair, he beamed at Harry, then said, "Catch you in the stars, Potter."

Draco kicked off into the air, and Harry followed, soaring after the Slytherin as the wind whipped violently through their robes. Harry made a point of outstripping Draco several times while he chased him, but they broke away at intervals as they searched and chased the elusive glint of the Snitch around deserted parapets and dark-windowed turrets. Harry's stomach lurched when he nearly caught the handle of Draco's broom while reaching for the Snitch, but their quarry managed several last-second evasions like a fly dexterously avoiding getting swatted.

After some time, Harry caught the Snitch, but Draco didn't care; he had marked Harry out as the new quarry instead. Harry hollered when Draco refused to slow down as he was coming towards him, but Harry dipped out of his path at the last second.

Harry shoved the Snitch into his robes and then rocketed after Draco in retaliation. You want to play dirty? he thought incandescently. I'll play dirty.

In a matter of seconds, Harry caught onto Draco's robes. They tumbled on their broomsticks, wheeling through the open air as Draco attempted to swerve free. Harry lost his grip on the hem of his garment, and the two boys managed to right themselves back up again.

"I caught you!" Harry shouted. "Now—hang on a minute… I need a… a second to recover…" As Harry hovered on his broom, he was glad to see that Draco was laughing with authentic amusement.

"God, that gave me a fright. Come over here, Potter. Since we're up this high—I want you to see." With his finger, he traced a line through the sky, then pointed north of the castle. "You see over there?" Draco said, while they used the moment to recatch their breaths. "The constellation Draco can be seen from anywhere in the northern hemisphere, which you should've learned in Astronomy class. If you can find the Big Dipper—which is right there—or the Little Dipper—which is over there—I'm wedged right in between them."

Harry drifted closer until their shoulders were touching, so that he could follow the direct line of Draco's finger to each of the constellations. "Sounds foreboding," Harry commented, "being pressed between two other great bodies like that… I'm surprised Professor Trelawney hasn't given you grief for it."

"Oh, she has. You just haven't noticed. Look. The tail is up near the bowl of the Big Dipper—see? And the head is there."

"I see…"

"I could name each of the seventeen stars for you if you wanted, but I think you'd doze off." When Draco peered sideways at him, he seized the handle of his own broom to steady himself against the emerald eyes that were boring into him. "Why aren't you looking at what I was showing you?"

"I'd rather be looking at the real thing, I suppose," Harry said, feeling resolved on what his body was compelling him to do. Very slowly, he urged his broom further sideways until he had the other boy locked in a gentle kiss.

A minute later, Harry opened his eyes, looking dazed, then whispered, "The real thing's more beautiful than the stars, I think."

Draco was speechless. He'd never been told something like that—at least not something so heartfelt.

Without warning—and driven by the boyish need to have more fun—Harry snatched hold of Draco's broom handle and plummeted into a dive so that he was dragging the other boy toward the glossy surface of the lake.

Panicked, Draco shouted for him to let go, but Harry had no intention of doing so. Draco frantically prised the Gryffindor's fingers off his broom handle, applied the brakes, and leveled out over the sloshing black waters.

Harry rocketed straight towards him, just as Draco was climbing back up into the sky. Before he could get too far, Harry caught him by the shoulders, and they hurtled through the air, their brooms dropping out from underneath them like spiraling black feathers.

Their brooms broke the surface of the lake first. A half second later, they crashed into the water and wrestled in a fury beneath the surface. They fought for dominance over each other, flailing to break for air.

When Draco got his head above water, he shouted, "Potter! What the hell?"

Harry sputtered and laughed. Provoked by this, Draco grabbed him by the arms and forced him back underwater.

Having escaped from Harry's robes, the Snitch floated onto the coruscating crests of the Black Lake, but Draco caught it before it could flee. Struggling to stuff it back inside the tiny drawstring bag while still holding Harry underwater, he replaced it into the pocket of his robes but then got dunked as Harry climbed up over his back.

The two boys swam for another ten minutes, and brawled and laughed. And when at last they crawled onto the muddy bank, Draco grabbed Harry into a headlock, then shoved him away as he slicked back his draggled hair. "You little shit," he gasped, while taking stock of the state of his robes. "There isn't an inch of me that isn't waterlogged! And our brooms…"

"Are completely fine." Harry extracted his wand from the deep pocket of his robes and shouted, "Accio Firebolt!"

Following his lead, Draco did likewise for his Nimbus, caught it firmly in his hand, and inspected it for damage.

After making sure that nothing else had been lost, they both collapsed, exhausted, onto a fluffy patch of grass. Harry grinned from ear to ear, and it took them both several minutes to calm down, but eventually they grew quiet as they stared up at the stars.

A comfortable silence ensued, during which Harry mused about how this was how their relationship should have been all along: friendly, full of banter and horseplay, and suffused with so much joy that it made his whole body tingle with euphoria.

How did you meet the other boy you were in love with while you were in school, Professor? Harry wondered as he reflected back on Lupin. Did you sneak around at night like we're doing now? And what was it like? What did you do? Did you gambol through the corridors in the dead of night, playing Hide and Seek—or what? Where did you go, so that your friends wouldn't discover you, and what was his name?

Harry shifted closer to Draco, and, without thinking, Draco wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Harry gazed up at him, his smile gone, but discernable contentment in his face.

"How're your marks going this year?" Harry asked.

"Good, actually." Draco plucked a clump of waterweed off his robes and tossed it aside. "Definitely better than what I told you last year. Might get top marks this time if the teachers know what's good for them. I've had steady improvement since I botched our first year, and now I'm just behind the Mudblood, which has got my father annoyed, but you know all the teachers favor her."

"Actually, I was going to say that it pays off to work hard like a 'Mudblood'."

Draco ignored the unwanted comment. "I've got private tutoring at home, and Mum helps whenever she can. And without Quidditch I've been studying and practicing a lot more. I flower up and equivocate on my essays wherever I can still, but McGonagall can always see right through it, so I don't even bother trying that on her anymore. I'm better at doing magic than remembering the information and transcribing it for our essays, so my tutor's got me focused on improving there. Professor Binns is happy. Flitwick isn't annoyed with me anymore, and McGonagall gave me a couple of pointers, which seemed to help—although she doesn't seem to help me nearly as much as she does Granger."

"What does Snape think?"

Draco snorted. "He says I don't try hard enough whenever I don't know the answer to something, so he's helping a bit too. He's trying to teach me to think 'critically and creatively.' He says that's what helped him develop the most when he was in school. Pretty alright guy. At least with him, I can tell he wants me to do well."

Harry thought it was best not to voice his counter-opinion about Snape just now. Instead, he suggested, "We should study together sometime."

Draco furrowed his brow. "No. I don't think I'd like that."

"Why not?"

Upon noticing the thinly veiled hurt on Harry's face, Draco said, "Because I'd rather be doing stuff like this when we're alone together instead of work."

Harry chewed his bottom lip. "If I was in the same House as you… I think I'd always want to study with you."

"Oh yeah?"

"But you might be too much of a distraction, now that I think about it."

"How so?"

"You already know how."

Harry craned his neck towards him with a languorous smile, and Draco met him the rest of the way while cradling Harry's neck just below the ear. After a few minutes of kissing, Harry murmured, "I wouldn't mind doing this all night."

Draco ran a finger down Harry's cheek, then said, "Me neither…"

They resumed the kiss while they listened to the strum of the insects, coupled with the frequent hoots of unseen owls who were hunting for small game on soundless wings. Harry lifted his head to deepen the kiss, but then recoiled when he felt the hint of a tongue against the crevice of his mouth. "Malfoy, what are you—"

"If you don't like it, it's alright," Draco interrupted hastily. "Just let me in once though, will you? I know how to do it, and I'll be careful… I promise."

Harry could hardly believe what he was being asked to do. A new sort of hunger gnawed at his insides like a dormant beast, and so he closed his eyes and nudged his mouth against Draco's in silent permission.

The blond propped himself up on his elbow and leaned further in, making it so that Harry wouldn't need to do any of the work, and Harry emitted an involuntary groan when he felt the touch of something strange and delicate against his lips. Even though he felt self-conscious about the noises he was making, Harry couldn't stay silent. The noises came, and very slowly, Draco coaxed his way past the boundary of his lips.

Harry almost couldn't handle it. The new sensation somehow tickled him all over. His stomach twisted at the provocation of newly stimulated nerve-endings, and he shivered with what he could only describe as lust. His world was spinning, and he could no longer hear the owls or the sonnets of the insects, but the sound of Draco's breath was in his body, filling his ears with a hot pressure he had never felt before in his whole life.

Eventually, Draco's tongue began to twine around his own, and, feeling thoroughly embarrassed at his own inept performance, Harry blushed at the muffled noises that occasionally came out of him. But hearing Harry's moans only increased the intensity of Draco's kissing, and Harry felt like he was melting, losing track of where his own body ended and Draco's began.

It was wonderfully obscene the way Draco stroked inside his mouth, almost as if he meant to stoke a fire, and Harry did his best to caress him back while doing a bit of exploring of his own. But he could hardly think. All he could do was feel, and he wasn't very good at this sort of kissing, but Draco loved it.

Harry was relieved when Draco pulled out of the kiss to get some air. The interim didn't last long, however. No sooner had Harry sworn under his breath than Draco lurked his way back in, and it was several minutes before they were willing to break it off again.

When they came to a natural stopping point, Harry panted against Draco's cheek. His whole body felt good, and he didn't want to ruin the moment, but a thought was suddenly nagging at him.

"Do you do that a lot with Pansy?"

Draco let out a deep sigh before answering that question. "Yeah. She really loves it. But it doesn't feel anything like this when I'm with her."

Harry's whole body was screaming for more contact, but instead he only said, "I think I'd be in love with your mouth if you didn't misuse it so much…"

"Misuse. What do you mean?"

"Rita Skeeter—and everything. Stupid prat."

"Except deep down you know I'm doing the right thing." Draco's fingers twirled through Harry's wet hair, nails raking on his scalp. "One day you'll see. One day you'll understand."

Harry wasn't about to argue any further on that point. All he wanted was to keep feeling good, and so he propelled their night further along where he wanted it to go. "Have you ever been with anyone?" he asked tentatively, "as in… done it?"

When Draco gave him no response, Harry reached for the other boy's sodden robes and rifled through the heavy layers of wet fabric until he located the front of Draco's trousers. Using both his hands, he fiddled with the fly, but Draco seized Harry's wrists just as he popped the embossed button out of its loop.

"Hold on—what are you doing?"

Harry frowned at him. "Don't you want to…?"

There was a tense silence, during which Draco grappled with various opposing desires.

"Or… or you can just watch me if you want," Harry said innocently. "Do it to myself, I mean."

Torn between desire, fascination, and disgust, Draco's heart began to quicken as he watched the Gryffindor dig inside his own soaked robes and unbutton his jeans. Draco felt slightly sick but couldn't bring himself to look away. He wanted to see this—he needed to see Harry Potter pleasuring himself…

Harry closed his eyes and smiled at the unmistakable feeling of being watched. It made him feel squeamish to have Draco staring at him, but also incredibly turned on so that he felt himself getting harder by the second. "Feels good," he whispered as he began to tease and pet himself.

Draco couldn't decide whether to stare at his face or at where the lump of movement was concentrated underneath the other boy's robes. He hoped to catch a glimpse of what was hidden underneath, and he hoped Harry would show him what he was doing without needing to be asked.

Harry smiled at him with his eyes open. "I think about you when I do this sometimes."

The sweetest ache ignited below Draco's stomach; he reeled at the lightheaded feeling of the blood rushing to his loins.

"Right now… I'm thinking about what we just did. You going in my mouth… I can still feel it…" He moaned softly as a burning twinge shot through the swollen skin he was stroking, and his eyes squeezed shut for an exquisite moment.

Draco thrilled at the sound of his moaning, and a little color rose to his cheeks. The ache below his stomach grew achier, and he knew he couldn't resist touching himself, so why bother trying?

Reluctant but also eager to join in, Draco reached into his own robes, unzipped his trousers, and took hold of himself as he stared into Harry's ardent green eyes. "Tell me how you feel, Potter," he murmured feverishly. "Tell me what you feel in your body…"

Harry licked his lips. "It burns," he said hoarsely, "but in a good way… It feels hot and achy, like I'm on fire…"

"Stroke yourself harder," Draco urged hungrily, and Harry made a strangled noise in response to that command. "Do it, Potter… Do what I tell you."

"I am." Harry panted hotly and looked sideways at him. "I'm just… trying… to make it last… and that's hard to do… depending on what I'm thinking about… I crash out of nowhere sometimes…"

"Crash…? You mean, come?"

Harry stopped stroking himself, to prevent the crescendo from hitting him too soon. Hearing Draco talk like this was getting to be too much, and his teenage brain was being pushed to its fragile limits.

"I call it crashing," he whispered weakly, while taking shallow breaths, "because that's what it feels like… But you're right… I meant when I come…"

After that explanation, Harry resumed massaging himself, but it was difficult to keep his eyes open and fixed on the other boy. And because he wanted to maintain a meaningful point of contact while they continued to stroke themselves, Harry searched for Draco's free hand with his own, then loosely twined their fingers together.

Harry swooned sideways against him, and Draco couldn't help but kiss his panting lips. The moment their lips touched, however, it was as if electricity had cleaved through Harry's spine. He sighed and groaned euphorically, tightening his grip on Draco's hand.

"Do that again, Malfoy," he said against Draco's neck. "It felt amazing… kiss me…"

Draco pressed his mouth against Harry's and kept it there for as long as he could. After a while, Harry shifted abruptly and rearranged them both so they were lying on their sides facing one another. Harry rubbed his nose roughly against Draco's, his cheeks patched with red, eyes unable to maintain their focus.

"What do you think about when you do this?" Harry asked in a heavy voice.

With his inhibitions currently in shambles, Draco couldn't help but answer honestly. "I think about boys and what I'd do to them."

"Do you think about me?"

"Damn it, Potter, that dirty mouth of yours…"

"Please say you do," Harry begged in croaking voice. "Tell me…"

"All the time," Draco admitted, staring at the pained look on Harry's face. "I've thought about doing this and so much more with you—God, you look so beautiful…"

Harry was grateful for the kiss he received just then because that was when the convulsions started. Moans of ecstasy escaped his lips as he was taken beyond the edge, and he succumbed to a world of pure sensation and pure bliss. The pressure valve was released, and his stomach clenched. He moaned uncontrollably against Draco's lips, twitching, jerking, shivering through the beauty of too much pleasure—too much heat—too much lust…

Harry didn't wait for the explosion in his body to dissipate. Instead, he let go of Draco's free hand and began rooting blindly through his robes as a way of asking for permission. When Draco made no move to stop him this time, Harry reached under the heavy, wet garment and fondled him as Draco's busy hand moved out of the way. His fingers were still slick and sticky with his own ejaculate, but it seemed to make it easier to touch and tease the other boy.

Impatient to make Draco feel just as good, Harry wrapped both his hands around him, then smiled at the hard, slippery feeling of Draco thrusting in the snug tunnel he had made. He was looking forward to egging the horny boy on, to do it harder. But Draco didn't last long—only a few seconds, and that was partly thanks to Harry announcing, "My cum's all over your dick."

Something about having Harry's warm secretions polished all over him made Draco lose control too soon, and he couldn't stop the thrusting motion of his hips or douse the fire scalding through his nerve endings. All he knew was that Harry was all around him, his hands squeezing and caressing him as he surrendered himself to a pleasure that was as forbidden as it was sweet…

"A lot came out of you," Harry breathed. "And you got some of it on my robes…"

Trembling and unable to formulate words for the next few minutes, Draco pulled Harry into an embrace and waited for the spasms in his muscles to abate. Eventually, he said, "That felt… I can't even think of a word to describe it…"

Harry tugged on Draco's foreskin gently as he wilted in his hands. "I knew you'd like it," he said, and then whispered in a secretive voice, "You can still feel mine if you want. It's only fair…"

Draco was tempted at the idea, except that his mind was beginning to catch up to what they had just done. "Don't be gross, Potter."

Harry sneered playfully and then grabbed both of Draco's hands, making them just as sticky as his own. Slowly, he guided the blond to where he wanted to be touched inside his robes.

"There…" Harry's smile was radiant as he closed Draco's fingers around him. "See? It's still a bit hard. It's just kind of sensitive, so be careful…" He tensed at the feeling of the blond's fingertips tracing the unseen lines of his stiff but supple skin, and just the thought of their seed mingling together like this made Harry want to go at it even more, but he didn't quite have the stamina for it.

Draco let his fingers roam over Harry's wilting erection while he asked, "Have you done this with Weasley?"

There was a momentary glitch in Harry's brain as the weirdest image sprang into his mind. "You mean Ron? Obviously not. I've only ever done this with you. Don't reckon the other boys I like would be too interested."

"And who are they?"

Harry shrugged, searching his mind for the names of all the boys he felt attracted to. "I guess… Seamus is cute, and that really hot Slytherin who's in sixth year. What's his name?"

"Holdsworth?" Draco had always had a crush on Dorian too, ever since he'd started school at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, that guy. And Miles, that Keeper of yours. He's pretty cute too. And Cedric." But he grimaced at that last one, since he was still bitter about Cho, whom he preferred.

Draco snorted. "Who doesn't like Diggory?"

"You like him too?"

Draco hesitated. "It isn't something I'd ever admit. But he's like Holdsworth—it's impossible to not want him. He's not nearly as cute as you are, though… I like you more."

Harry's eyes lit up at that. "Same. No one's like you, either. I always thought you were the cutest prat in the whole school, and I've always wished we'd been together. Might've been doing this with you a lot more if we'd been Sorted into the same House."

"Don't think I would've spoken to you again if you started tossing off in front of me."

"I might've convinced you… like tonight."

"Yeah, well… tonight is different… It's technically my birthday now, so I let myself slip on this one."

"It is?"

"Sure. The fifth of June. I thought I told you, but I guess not." Draco mused. "Anyways. As nice as a gift this was… this can't continue." He sat up, and Harry did likewise, looking abashed.

"But why not?"

"Because, Potter, I've got a girlfriend, and you like girls, and that's how it should be." Draco glowered at him mildly. "You should just move forward with that Mudblood, you know. Everyone knows you like her."

Harry bristled. "First off, stop calling her that. And second, I don't like Hermione that way, no matter how much they try to write that in the papers. I like you. I'm here with you."

"So?"

"It means something, doesn't it? After all, you haven't even been with Pansy like this yet, have you?"

Guiltily, he grumbled, "No, but I certainly plan to…"

Harry felt a surge of jealousy. "But do you even want to?"

Draco opened his mouth and then closed it. It was a moment before he could speak. "I care about her, Potter, do you hear? A lot. She's not expendable to me like other witches and wizards are. My feelings for her might not be oriented the way I want them to be, but she's the closest thing I've got to a normal future."

"But we like each other, right? You and me."

"We can't be together, if that's what you're getting at."

"Why not?"

"Because it wouldn't work!"

"Maybe not. But we could try. Or, at the very least, no one has to know. Not even Pansy."

"God. You're infuriating."

"So are you. You're being stupid."

"No. You're being stupid because even if you were a girl, you're overlooking the fact that you're still a half-breed."

"A secret relationship has nothing to do with either of those things, especially if it involves you still faking a relationship with Pansy."

But Draco was muttering and complaining to himself. "None of this was even supposed to happen… We went too far, and we weren't able to stop ourselves."

"That's partly because I didn't want to stop myself," Harry whispered quietly. "I knew what I was doing before I did it, and so did you."

"Merlin—" Draco rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead.

"Look, we don't have to put a name on what we are," Harry offered generously, when he saw how torn and frustrated Draco was feeling. "We don't have to tell anyone about us if it's really that dangerous. We can just keep things the way they are."

Draco stood up. After readjusting his trousers, he picked up his Nimbus furiously and took several steps away from him. "Saint Potter is asking me to cheat on my girlfriend," he enunciated slowly, relishing the irony. "Meanwhile, I'm the one turned off at the idea. Talk about role reversal." Then he looked at Harry pointedly. "I care about Pansy, no matter what you think. Even though I did horrible things behind her back, I love her, and I intend to make it work."

A flood of rage took over Harry then, and he staggered to his feet. "Would you shut up about that pug-faced minger and pay attention to me?"

"Why are you always insulting her like that? There's no need, you know. I get that you're jealous, but that isn't her fault. She isn't ugly."

"But she is ugly because she's with you!" Harry said bitterly. "That's enough to make anyone ugly to me. If someone thinks they can get with you—" But Harry abandoned the foolish sentiment he was about to spit out.

"Go on." Draco's tone was steady, eyes cold. "Say whatever you were going to say."

Harry wiped his damp hair out of his eyes, then shook his arms, which felt heavy in his wet robes. "Whoever wants to be with you just isn't good enough, okay?"

Draco inclined his head superciliously. "Except you?"

"Malfoy—don't you get what I'm trying to say?" But the right words were stuck somewhere in his chest and couldn't be dislodged.

Draco scowled at him. "Perhaps it's best you keep it to yourself. I have a family to think about, and I don't just mean my mother and father. I have to get married."

"Sure—three or four years from now—but what about now?"

"Everything I do today effects the future, but I don't expect you to understand that." He surveyed Harry contemptuously. "Even your family never learned that lesson, and that's why they're dead."

Harry tensed at that.

Draco turned his back.

"I expect you to apologize for that," Harry said quietly. There was a hollow feeling in his chest now, and he didn't know what else to do or say, except ask for an apology.

"Eat quim."

Harry fixed his robes and jeans, then picked up his Firebolt. "Go dig a hole to hide in, ferret."

"You'll always need me, Potter. Keep that in mind."

"No," Harry said, deciding he wasn't going to tolerate any more stupid assertions. "You've got it backwards. You're the one who needs me. I would keep your secret and do a whole lot more if you'd just ask. Look, I don't think it's bad that we want each other, but you're afraid…"

Draco swallowed hard, hands trembling on the handle of his broom. He didn't speak for as long as it took to reign in his emotions. "Race you to the tower," he said evenly, dismissing the conversation.

Harry rubbed the sleeve of his robes against his face, feeling furious at himself.

"Hurry up, Potter. I want to make sure we both get back safely." Draco's hands twisted over the ebon wood of his Nimbus while he waited.

When Harry finally kicked off, Draco followed, groping through his robes to make sure the Snitch was still secure inside his pocket. When they touched down at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Draco gave Harry the once-over as if to make sure he was still in one piece.

"Would you mind giving me some time to think about what you said?" Draco said in a brittle tone.

Taken aback, Harry's stomach fluttered. "Of course. I-I wouldn't mind."

"It won't be too late if I come back to you next year, then? Or the year after that?"

The butterflies seemed to die out at the question, and his stomach plummeted. Harry didn't want to wait that long to start an official relationship with him, no matter how secret. However…

"I can't say for sure, but I don't think it'd be too late." Harry locked eyes with him, and Draco smiled.

"I want more, you know. It's driving me crazy, the thought of not being with you. But this is dangerous. It isn't good. We're incompatible."

"I know."

Draco held out his hand, and, very tentatively, Harry took hold it, his heart soaring at the kind expression on Draco's face. "If you can be patient, it'd mean a lot."

Harry's mind went back to Lupin's vote for patience as well. He didn't say anything, but he nodded once.

"I'll walk with you, alright? Until you want me to leave."

"Are you sure?" Harry said. "Because if you mean it, we might be walking the whole night."

Draco brushed his thumb over Harry's fingers affectionately. "Then so be it. I might be a zombie tomorrow, but if you're going to take me captive like this… I've really got no choice, do I?"

Together they walked toward the stairway and kept smiling at each other as they made their way down the tower, hand in hand, their brooms in each of their opposite hands, their sodden feet squishing loudly in their shoes.

"Happy birthday, bastard."

Draco's face broke into a grin. "It was nice getting something I couldn't buy for once. Put a bow on yourself next time though, if you really want to tempt me to unwrap you."

Harry laughed, thinking it was a stupid but wonderful idea. "I'll keep that in mind. Only, don't blame me if I end up doing it."