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And yet, another chapter! *cackles* I bet everyone thought I'd abandoned this story, since I take so freaking long on everything. *sighs* But, anyway, here for your reading pleasure,
~*~*~*~*~
Harry felt like he was floating on air, replaying that moment with Draco in the classroom over and over again. It had been everything he imagined; it was better than he’d ever dreamed-with the exception of getting kneed in the balls, of course. But Harry was positive that that had been an accident. Well, mostly an accident. Merlin, what if it hadn’t been an accident? What if-
“Harry, what’s wrong? You’re hyperventilating.” Hermione touched his shoulder, startled when he whirled around, his eyes boring into hers anxiously.
“’Mione, what if he meant to do that?” he wailed as they entered the Gryffindor common room.
“What if he meant to do what?” Hermione’s face turned calculating as she paused for a moment. “Harry, what happened before Transfiguration exactly?”
“Well, I-er-“ Harry flushed, looking around at the empty common room. “You see-” He paused as he saw Seamus and Dean walking down the dormitory stairs. “’Mione-“
“Harry snogged the Slytherin git, obviously,” Ron declared, entering the conversation and the common room irritably. “He told us as much.”
“Harry what?” Seamus cried in disbelief, dragging Dean after him. “What’s this about snogging and Slytherins?”
“Ron-“ Harry declared, furiously red. “Please!”
“Harry here’s crushing on Malfoy,” Ron ignored Harry, turning to their dorm mates. “Today, Harry and the Bouncing Ferret were late to class. He implied that they were late because they were together.”
“You molested Malfoy again, didn’t you, Harry? That’s why his robe was ripped.” Hermione deduced, her eyes darkening quickly as her lips compressed to a thin line. “What did I tell you-“
“What haven’t you told me, ‘Mione?” Harry demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at her. “I tried to talk with him, honestly! I tried to tell him how I felt, but he was so close, and-and his hair was glowing and loose, and-excuse me, but I’m really attracted to him, and I wanted to touch him and I think that sometimes actions speak louder than words and I’ve proven that theory, I think, because all you and Ron do is talk and glance at each other and you two haven’t gotten anywhere, and I haven’t talked to Draco very much, but I’ve kissed him twice and it was wonderful and amazing and he knows exactly how I feel-“
Harry paused to take a breath, and Seamus burst out laughing. “You’ve got it bad!” he chortled.
“Please tell me I heard wrong!” Harry heard Angelina Johnson say. “You’ve kissed Malfoy twice?” Harry jumped guiltily and looked around. During his impassioned speech, he hadn’t realized that several more Gryffindors had made their way into the common room, and all of them were staring at Harry in shock. Harry hid his head in his hands. “Please tell me I didn’t blurt my secret out to the entire Gryffindor House.”
“You didn’t blurt out your secret to the entire Gryffindor House,” Fred said easily, looping an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Just about a third of it.”
Harry’s cheeks flamed, and he made a choking gasp in the back of his throat before running to the stairs and disappearing into the boys’ dorm.
“It’s not that bad, Harry!” George called after him, and then shrugged. “Honestly, what do you two thi-“ he turned toward Ron and Hermione, who were staring at each other in disbelief. “Oh, bother.” George walked off as Ron edged closer to Hermione.
“Do you-“ they burst out at the same time, and fell silent, looking at the ground.
“I think Harry was right about one thing,” Ron ventured bashfully.
“Was he?” Hermione answered quietly.
“Sometimes, actions are louder than words.” With that quiet comment, Ron leaned over and brushed his lips over Hermione’s. “Herm, I know it was wrong of me to ask you as a last resort to the Yule Ball last year,” he declared as she froze, stunned. “But…I really was jealous of Krum… and I really do like you.”
Hermione flushed prettily and kissed him back. “It’s taken you long enough to realize that.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco threw himself on his bed, drawing the curtains around him with a muttered spell. It was official. He was completely insane. To fall for Harry Potter, of all people. Why the hell couldn’t it be one of the Slytherins who were always after him? Or one of the Ravenclaws? He had recognized his obsession with the Gryffindor early, but he never thought it would turn physical. And the worst thing was that he didn’t care. Draco touched his mouth, still feeling the lingering warmth of Harry’s breath on his lips. He didn’t give a damn.
Bonkers.
Absolutely mad.
Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he jumped in startlement as he felt a hand smooth over his thigh. Blaise’s eyes glowed sapphire in the darkness.
“Oh. It’s you.” Draco muttered, pushing Blaise’s hand away. “Can’t you sneak into someone else’s bed for a change?”
“I don’t want anyone else.” Blaise edged up Draco’s body, and Draco struggled against the temptation to punch the other boy. He settled for rolling his eyes.
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be.” Blaise purred, and Draco found himself suddenly curious. He hadn’t lied to Harry when he said that he’d never done anything before, and now he wondered whether the strength of his reaction to his rival was merely latent sexuality. Maybe it would be just as good with someone else. Blaise lowered his head and nibbled lightly on Draco’s neck. Draco waited expectantly for the shivers, the path of fiery sensation to follow Blaise’s lips, but nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. When Blaise’s tongue dipped out of his mouth to brush Draco’s collarbone, Draco’s skin crawled. Blaise’s tongue felt like a slug. A very hot, drooling, slug.
“Zabini, get the hell off me.”
Blaise’s head reared up, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “What?”
“I said get the hell off of me, Zabini.”
“Oh, so I’m not good enough to fuck Draco Malfoy, is that it?” Blaise pushed himself up furiously, his eyes glittering as a muscle twitched in his jaw.
Draco inwardly sighed. There were days when the rumor of his sexual godhood was just too much of a burden. “What made you think,” Draco asked conversationally, his words under-hinted with a touch of ice. “That a fence-sitting Zabini would ever be good enough for a Malfoy?” Blaise flushed red, and then paled, his fists clenched so hard that blood was starting to slide down his palm from the crescent marks of his fingernails. “If you’re going to bleed, Zabini, do it out of my bed. Blood is so difficult to get out of satin.”
“You’ll regret this, Malfoy,” Blaise hissed, and retreated from Draco’s bed.
I sincerely doubt that, Draco sighed to himself, and sat up. And now he felt sick. I want to see Harry. Draco blinked. And I can’t believe I just thought that.
Draco threw the curtains back and reached for his cloak. He really needed a walk.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry was thoroughly disgusted with his housemates. All of them offering to help set him up with Draco. What was their problem? He could get a guy on his own, thank you very much. He made his way down to the lake, grinning as he saw a familiar figure lying on the shore. It really is amazing how much we run into each other. Harry thought as he plopped down next to Draco. “Hello, Draco.”
Draco pried an eye open and flopped onto his stomach, mumbling something into the fabric of his cloak.
Harry leaned closer, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What did you say?”
Draco pushed himself up and looked at Harry haughtily. “I said, oh, look, just who I wanted to see.”
“I wanted to see you too!” Harry answered cheerfully.
“Potter.” Draco lay on his back and looked up at the other boy. “Do you know the meaning of sarcasm?”
“Yes, I do. Malfoy. I just don’t think it counts anymore.” Harry tilted his head. “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”
“I’m not going to kiss you again.” Draco frowned up at him.
“Is that what’s bothering you so much?” Harry asked innocently, “Because if it is, please let me remedy the problem.” Harry quickly bent down and tasted Draco’s bottom lip, pulling the unresisting boy into his arms. Harry raised his head and grinned down at Draco, delighted with how pliant he was in his embrace. “You know, if you don’t want me to kiss you, you need to make me believe it. This whole boneless thing? Not believing.”
“Ugh.” Draco shut his eyes tightly. “It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“I’m attracted to you. And I don’t even have the decency to feel ill about it.”
“Thanks…I think. When did you crawl out of your denial?”
“Blaise Zabini tried to seduce me earlier today.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Harry dropped Draco and struggled halfway up before Draco jerked sharply on Harry’s sleeve, pulling him down onto the dirt.
“You are not. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” Draco glared at Harry, who had the probity to look abashed.
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, he had the disgusting urge to lick my neck. And it was like a snail. Or a slug. Wet and slimy.” Draco shuddered. “Yuck.”
“Okay.” Harry looked sternly at Draco. “He only touched your neck, right?”
Draco arched his eyebrow. “He touched my leg, too. Why?”
“Because I haven’t touched your leg yet!” Harry declared in an outraged whisper.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Draco shook his head. “I don’t understand you, Potter.”
“I told you that you were mine. No one else can just…touch you.”
“And I thought I was insane.”
“I’m not insane, I’m obsessed.” Harry brushed a hand along Draco’s thigh, unknowingly following Blaise’s path, and then cupped Draco’s head, exposing his throat to a sharp bite.
“Shit, Potter! Are you a vampire or something?” Draco demanded, and then relaxed again as Harry peppered his skin with butterfly kisses. Draco gave a small sigh and tangled his fingers in Harry’s mass of hair, stroking the rough strands. Harry darted his tongue out to taste Draco’s flesh, and the other boy closed his eyes and arched into the touch.
Harry pulled away with a grin. “So, does my tongue feel like a slug when I lick you?”
“No,” Draco answered in a drowsy, pleased tone. “No, you don’t feel like a slug at all.”
Harry brushed Draco’s mussed hair away from his forehead. Sunlight danced on Draco’s silvery tresses, tingeing the eyelashes of closed lids gold. Between the black of his robes and the verdant green of the grass he was laying on, Draco was displayed perfectly, like a jewel amidst velvet. “You’re so beautiful, Draco.” Harry whispered, his fingers brushing down Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled lazily, his eyes diamond-bright in the fading half light. “I know,” he drawled. “But feel free to say it as often as you like. I wouldn’t mind a’toll.”
“Are we flirting?” Harry asked incredulously.
Draco gave Harry a superior look. “I am flirting, Potter. You’re trying to hit me over the head with a club so you can drag me back to your tower.”
Harry laughed and laid on his back, watching as the sun continued it’s decent to meet the horizon. Now is as good a time as any to talk, right? He asked himself, and traced a pattern into the ground beside him with his finger. “What’s your home like, Draco?”
“My home?” Draco paused. “It’s a mansion. The foyer is made of silver veined black marble-magically created, of course-and Mother has the most wonderful gardens. She grows narcissi flowers, and gardenias, and all sorts of things. That’s her territory. The manor itself is made of stone, you know, because in the old days it was a castle. It still has some hidden passageways that were created for people to get out of the castle should they be attacked and had to run without their wand. And I can’t forget the moat.” Draco tilted his head and grinned. “Then there’s the hexes for trespassers, and the fully functional dungeon.” Draco frowned in thought. “I do wish my father would soundproof the walls, though. The screams always keep me awake at night.”
“Screams?” Harry blinked in disbelief. “Your father tortures people?”
Draco waved it away negligently. “It’s a dungeon. What else do you expect my father to do, host tea parties there? It’s the perfect place to torture Mudbloods and the like-“
“Don’t say that word around me.” Harry declared tightly, clenching his fist at his side.
Draco glanced at him curiously, and shrugged. “That’s right. I forgot for a moment that you’re a Muggle lover.”
“Why do you make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” Harry wondered quietly.
“You’re talking to a Pureblood, Potter.” Draco pointed out. “A pureblooded aristocrat. It is a bad thing.” Draco settled himself with a grin. “You know, I can trace my ancestry all the way back for 800 years. Not once have we had a Mud-“ Draco glanced at Harry’s tense expression. “-ggle-born in our family.”
Harry felt a smile twitch on his lips. “A Mudggle-born. Well, that would explain your inbred, pointy looks, huh?”
“Hey!” Draco sat up and threw a handful of grass at Harry. “Apparently, you seem to like the inbred pointy looks, so be quiet.”
“I hope you know that just because I like you doesn’t mean that I’ll do what you say on demand.”
“Well, hell.” Draco pouted, shaking his head. “And I was so hoping for that particular benefit.” Draco looked up at the stars that were beginning to show and stood up. “It’s time to go back in for dinner, Potter.”
“Why are you still calling me Potter?” Harry asked in annoyance as he stood up. “My name is Harry. Call me that.”
“All right…Harry.” Without any malice in that voice, Harry’s name spilled like raw silk from Draco’s lips, and Harry suddenly found himself glued to that mouth, drinking in that sound as he pulled Draco closer. This time, Draco responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. They pulled apart at the same time and smiled tentatively at each other.
“Well.” Harry said, flustered by his reaction to Draco’s kiss. I wonder if there’s a record for getting it up, because I think I just broke it.
“Well.” Draco answered, his cheeks flushed. “I think we have this kissing thing down. I’m not sure I like you though. This could just be, you know, physical attraction?”
“Maybe.” Harry declared. “I suppose it’s possible.”
“Hey, why don’t you come over to my dorm tomorrow? I’ve got the coolest thing from my father via owl post!” Draco leaned close to whisper in Harry’s ear. “The password to the dorm is ‘Dormiens’.” Draco looked at Harry shiftily. “We’re changing the password after tomorrow, so don’t think you can do any weird things to my housemates with the password, okay?”
“I’m a Gryffindor, Draco. I don’t do things like that.” Harry declared defensively.
Draco choked on his sudden burst of laughter. “Mordred, what a lie! I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Potter. A bien tot.”
“A bean what?” Harry scratched his head in confusion.
Draco stopped. “A bien tot. See you later, in French. And don’t scratch your head like that-you remind me of Crabbe.”
The two boys cheerfully made their way back to the school, and they were so caught up in each other that they didn’t notice the other figure following them back from the lake.
TBC
. Thanks to Cai and Regret for the betas, you guys are the best. ^^
~*~*~*~*~
Harry felt like he was floating on air, replaying that moment with Draco in the classroom over and over again. It had been everything he imagined; it was better than he’d ever dreamed-with the exception of getting kneed in the balls, of course. But Harry was positive that that had been an accident. Well, mostly an accident. Merlin, what if it hadn’t been an accident? What if-
“Harry, what’s wrong? You’re hyperventilating.” Hermione touched his shoulder, startled when he whirled around, his eyes boring into hers anxiously.
“’Mione, what if he meant to do that?” he wailed as they entered the Gryffindor common room.
“What if he meant to do what?” Hermione’s face turned calculating as she paused for a moment. “Harry, what happened before Transfiguration exactly?”
“Well, I-er-“ Harry flushed, looking around at the empty common room. “You see-” He paused as he saw Seamus and Dean walking down the dormitory stairs. “’Mione-“
“Harry snogged the Slytherin git, obviously,” Ron declared, entering the conversation and the common room irritably. “He told us as much.”
“Harry what?” Seamus cried in disbelief, dragging Dean after him. “What’s this about snogging and Slytherins?”
“Ron-“ Harry declared, furiously red. “Please!”
“Harry here’s crushing on Malfoy,” Ron ignored Harry, turning to their dorm mates. “Today, Harry and the Bouncing Ferret were late to class. He implied that they were late because they were together.”
“You molested Malfoy again, didn’t you, Harry? That’s why his robe was ripped.” Hermione deduced, her eyes darkening quickly as her lips compressed to a thin line. “What did I tell you-“
“What haven’t you told me, ‘Mione?” Harry demanded, crossing his arms and glaring at her. “I tried to talk with him, honestly! I tried to tell him how I felt, but he was so close, and-and his hair was glowing and loose, and-excuse me, but I’m really attracted to him, and I wanted to touch him and I think that sometimes actions speak louder than words and I’ve proven that theory, I think, because all you and Ron do is talk and glance at each other and you two haven’t gotten anywhere, and I haven’t talked to Draco very much, but I’ve kissed him twice and it was wonderful and amazing and he knows exactly how I feel-“
Harry paused to take a breath, and Seamus burst out laughing. “You’ve got it bad!” he chortled.
“Please tell me I heard wrong!” Harry heard Angelina Johnson say. “You’ve kissed Malfoy twice?” Harry jumped guiltily and looked around. During his impassioned speech, he hadn’t realized that several more Gryffindors had made their way into the common room, and all of them were staring at Harry in shock. Harry hid his head in his hands. “Please tell me I didn’t blurt my secret out to the entire Gryffindor House.”
“You didn’t blurt out your secret to the entire Gryffindor House,” Fred said easily, looping an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “Just about a third of it.”
Harry’s cheeks flamed, and he made a choking gasp in the back of his throat before running to the stairs and disappearing into the boys’ dorm.
“It’s not that bad, Harry!” George called after him, and then shrugged. “Honestly, what do you two thi-“ he turned toward Ron and Hermione, who were staring at each other in disbelief. “Oh, bother.” George walked off as Ron edged closer to Hermione.
“Do you-“ they burst out at the same time, and fell silent, looking at the ground.
“I think Harry was right about one thing,” Ron ventured bashfully.
“Was he?” Hermione answered quietly.
“Sometimes, actions are louder than words.” With that quiet comment, Ron leaned over and brushed his lips over Hermione’s. “Herm, I know it was wrong of me to ask you as a last resort to the Yule Ball last year,” he declared as she froze, stunned. “But…I really was jealous of Krum… and I really do like you.”
Hermione flushed prettily and kissed him back. “It’s taken you long enough to realize that.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco threw himself on his bed, drawing the curtains around him with a muttered spell. It was official. He was completely insane. To fall for Harry Potter, of all people. Why the hell couldn’t it be one of the Slytherins who were always after him? Or one of the Ravenclaws? He had recognized his obsession with the Gryffindor early, but he never thought it would turn physical. And the worst thing was that he didn’t care. Draco touched his mouth, still feeling the lingering warmth of Harry’s breath on his lips. He didn’t give a damn.
Bonkers.
Absolutely mad.
Draco was so deep in his thoughts that he jumped in startlement as he felt a hand smooth over his thigh. Blaise’s eyes glowed sapphire in the darkness.
“Oh. It’s you.” Draco muttered, pushing Blaise’s hand away. “Can’t you sneak into someone else’s bed for a change?”
“I don’t want anyone else.” Blaise edged up Draco’s body, and Draco struggled against the temptation to punch the other boy. He settled for rolling his eyes.
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be.” Blaise purred, and Draco found himself suddenly curious. He hadn’t lied to Harry when he said that he’d never done anything before, and now he wondered whether the strength of his reaction to his rival was merely latent sexuality. Maybe it would be just as good with someone else. Blaise lowered his head and nibbled lightly on Draco’s neck. Draco waited expectantly for the shivers, the path of fiery sensation to follow Blaise’s lips, but nothing happened. Well, almost nothing. When Blaise’s tongue dipped out of his mouth to brush Draco’s collarbone, Draco’s skin crawled. Blaise’s tongue felt like a slug. A very hot, drooling, slug.
“Zabini, get the hell off me.”
Blaise’s head reared up, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “What?”
“I said get the hell off of me, Zabini.”
“Oh, so I’m not good enough to fuck Draco Malfoy, is that it?” Blaise pushed himself up furiously, his eyes glittering as a muscle twitched in his jaw.
Draco inwardly sighed. There were days when the rumor of his sexual godhood was just too much of a burden. “What made you think,” Draco asked conversationally, his words under-hinted with a touch of ice. “That a fence-sitting Zabini would ever be good enough for a Malfoy?” Blaise flushed red, and then paled, his fists clenched so hard that blood was starting to slide down his palm from the crescent marks of his fingernails. “If you’re going to bleed, Zabini, do it out of my bed. Blood is so difficult to get out of satin.”
“You’ll regret this, Malfoy,” Blaise hissed, and retreated from Draco’s bed.
I sincerely doubt that, Draco sighed to himself, and sat up. And now he felt sick. I want to see Harry. Draco blinked. And I can’t believe I just thought that.
Draco threw the curtains back and reached for his cloak. He really needed a walk.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Harry was thoroughly disgusted with his housemates. All of them offering to help set him up with Draco. What was their problem? He could get a guy on his own, thank you very much. He made his way down to the lake, grinning as he saw a familiar figure lying on the shore. It really is amazing how much we run into each other. Harry thought as he plopped down next to Draco. “Hello, Draco.”
Draco pried an eye open and flopped onto his stomach, mumbling something into the fabric of his cloak.
Harry leaned closer, his eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What did you say?”
Draco pushed himself up and looked at Harry haughtily. “I said, oh, look, just who I wanted to see.”
“I wanted to see you too!” Harry answered cheerfully.
“Potter.” Draco lay on his back and looked up at the other boy. “Do you know the meaning of sarcasm?”
“Yes, I do. Malfoy. I just don’t think it counts anymore.” Harry tilted his head. “What’s got you in such a bad mood?”
“I’m not going to kiss you again.” Draco frowned up at him.
“Is that what’s bothering you so much?” Harry asked innocently, “Because if it is, please let me remedy the problem.” Harry quickly bent down and tasted Draco’s bottom lip, pulling the unresisting boy into his arms. Harry raised his head and grinned down at Draco, delighted with how pliant he was in his embrace. “You know, if you don’t want me to kiss you, you need to make me believe it. This whole boneless thing? Not believing.”
“Ugh.” Draco shut his eyes tightly. “It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“I’m attracted to you. And I don’t even have the decency to feel ill about it.”
“Thanks…I think. When did you crawl out of your denial?”
“Blaise Zabini tried to seduce me earlier today.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Harry dropped Draco and struggled halfway up before Draco jerked sharply on Harry’s sleeve, pulling him down onto the dirt.
“You are not. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.” Draco glared at Harry, who had the probity to look abashed.
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, he had the disgusting urge to lick my neck. And it was like a snail. Or a slug. Wet and slimy.” Draco shuddered. “Yuck.”
“Okay.” Harry looked sternly at Draco. “He only touched your neck, right?”
Draco arched his eyebrow. “He touched my leg, too. Why?”
“Because I haven’t touched your leg yet!” Harry declared in an outraged whisper.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Draco shook his head. “I don’t understand you, Potter.”
“I told you that you were mine. No one else can just…touch you.”
“And I thought I was insane.”
“I’m not insane, I’m obsessed.” Harry brushed a hand along Draco’s thigh, unknowingly following Blaise’s path, and then cupped Draco’s head, exposing his throat to a sharp bite.
“Shit, Potter! Are you a vampire or something?” Draco demanded, and then relaxed again as Harry peppered his skin with butterfly kisses. Draco gave a small sigh and tangled his fingers in Harry’s mass of hair, stroking the rough strands. Harry darted his tongue out to taste Draco’s flesh, and the other boy closed his eyes and arched into the touch.
Harry pulled away with a grin. “So, does my tongue feel like a slug when I lick you?”
“No,” Draco answered in a drowsy, pleased tone. “No, you don’t feel like a slug at all.”
Harry brushed Draco’s mussed hair away from his forehead. Sunlight danced on Draco’s silvery tresses, tingeing the eyelashes of closed lids gold. Between the black of his robes and the verdant green of the grass he was laying on, Draco was displayed perfectly, like a jewel amidst velvet. “You’re so beautiful, Draco.” Harry whispered, his fingers brushing down Draco’s cheek.
Draco smiled lazily, his eyes diamond-bright in the fading half light. “I know,” he drawled. “But feel free to say it as often as you like. I wouldn’t mind a’toll.”
“Are we flirting?” Harry asked incredulously.
Draco gave Harry a superior look. “I am flirting, Potter. You’re trying to hit me over the head with a club so you can drag me back to your tower.”
Harry laughed and laid on his back, watching as the sun continued it’s decent to meet the horizon. Now is as good a time as any to talk, right? He asked himself, and traced a pattern into the ground beside him with his finger. “What’s your home like, Draco?”
“My home?” Draco paused. “It’s a mansion. The foyer is made of silver veined black marble-magically created, of course-and Mother has the most wonderful gardens. She grows narcissi flowers, and gardenias, and all sorts of things. That’s her territory. The manor itself is made of stone, you know, because in the old days it was a castle. It still has some hidden passageways that were created for people to get out of the castle should they be attacked and had to run without their wand. And I can’t forget the moat.” Draco tilted his head and grinned. “Then there’s the hexes for trespassers, and the fully functional dungeon.” Draco frowned in thought. “I do wish my father would soundproof the walls, though. The screams always keep me awake at night.”
“Screams?” Harry blinked in disbelief. “Your father tortures people?”
Draco waved it away negligently. “It’s a dungeon. What else do you expect my father to do, host tea parties there? It’s the perfect place to torture Mudbloods and the like-“
“Don’t say that word around me.” Harry declared tightly, clenching his fist at his side.
Draco glanced at him curiously, and shrugged. “That’s right. I forgot for a moment that you’re a Muggle lover.”
“Why do you make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” Harry wondered quietly.
“You’re talking to a Pureblood, Potter.” Draco pointed out. “A pureblooded aristocrat. It is a bad thing.” Draco settled himself with a grin. “You know, I can trace my ancestry all the way back for 800 years. Not once have we had a Mud-“ Draco glanced at Harry’s tense expression. “-ggle-born in our family.”
Harry felt a smile twitch on his lips. “A Mudggle-born. Well, that would explain your inbred, pointy looks, huh?”
“Hey!” Draco sat up and threw a handful of grass at Harry. “Apparently, you seem to like the inbred pointy looks, so be quiet.”
“I hope you know that just because I like you doesn’t mean that I’ll do what you say on demand.”
“Well, hell.” Draco pouted, shaking his head. “And I was so hoping for that particular benefit.” Draco looked up at the stars that were beginning to show and stood up. “It’s time to go back in for dinner, Potter.”
“Why are you still calling me Potter?” Harry asked in annoyance as he stood up. “My name is Harry. Call me that.”
“All right…Harry.” Without any malice in that voice, Harry’s name spilled like raw silk from Draco’s lips, and Harry suddenly found himself glued to that mouth, drinking in that sound as he pulled Draco closer. This time, Draco responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. They pulled apart at the same time and smiled tentatively at each other.
“Well.” Harry said, flustered by his reaction to Draco’s kiss. I wonder if there’s a record for getting it up, because I think I just broke it.
“Well.” Draco answered, his cheeks flushed. “I think we have this kissing thing down. I’m not sure I like you though. This could just be, you know, physical attraction?”
“Maybe.” Harry declared. “I suppose it’s possible.”
“Hey, why don’t you come over to my dorm tomorrow? I’ve got the coolest thing from my father via owl post!” Draco leaned close to whisper in Harry’s ear. “The password to the dorm is ‘Dormiens’.” Draco looked at Harry shiftily. “We’re changing the password after tomorrow, so don’t think you can do any weird things to my housemates with the password, okay?”
“I’m a Gryffindor, Draco. I don’t do things like that.” Harry declared defensively.
Draco choked on his sudden burst of laughter. “Mordred, what a lie! I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Potter. A bien tot.”
“A bean what?” Harry scratched his head in confusion.
Draco stopped. “A bien tot. See you later, in French. And don’t scratch your head like that-you remind me of Crabbe.”
The two boys cheerfully made their way back to the school, and they were so caught up in each other that they didn’t notice the other figure following them back from the lake.
TBC
. Thanks to Cai and Regret for the betas, you guys are the best. ^^