Inamorato

A/N: YAY!!! MORE STORY! Hope you like it! Oh, I didn't go camping today (which is why I'm posting this) and...well...I'm going camping next week instead. I'm quite fond of this chapter...so I'd really appreciate some feedback. I love reading reviews...they totally make my day! I'm going to try to get some writing done while I'm camping, but I can't promise anything, okay? Enjoy!~ FA

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Harry cautiously entered the Common Room he and Draco now shared. "Um...Draco?" He called out hesitantly, unconsciously biting his lip. "You still here? Because I think we should talk about before..."

"Course I'm here." He heard Draco's voice coming from the bedroom and cautiously stepped into the doorway. "Where the bloody hell else would I be?" The Slytherin sounded odd...he walked into the room, peering around the near-darkness. The only illumination came from the fire in the fireplace.

He spotted Draco laying across the love seat, a large bottle in his hand. As Harry watched, he brought it to his lips and took a drink. "What is that?" Harry asked, moving closer until he was leaning over the back of the small sofa, staring down at the lounging Slytherin. He had his head resting on one arm of the sofa and one leg hooked over the other arm. His left leg was dangling off the edge of the sofa cushion, his toes brushing the carpet as he lazily swung his leg.

"S'vodka." Draco replied with a grin before taking another sip. "A little houseelf showed up and asked if he could get 'Master Draco' anything and I said, sure...how about a drink? S'funny, he looked like one my father used to have..."

"That's because Dobby is one your father used to have." Harry replied. "Um, Draco...are you drunk? Because we need to talk and if you're drunk I don't think we can."

Draco looked affronted as he struggled to push himself up a bit, his weight supported on an elbow behind him. "I can talk when I'm drunk, Potter." He sneered. With his face flushed and his hair disheveled, it didn't seem quite as haughty as Harry thought he intended it to. "We're talking now, aren't we? I can hold my liquor!"

Harry sighed. Apparently, a drunk Draco Malfoy was just as impossible as a sober one. "Never mind, Draco. I'm going to bed; we'll talk tomorrow some time, okay?"

He stormed out of the room and into the bathroom. Torches lit themselves as soon as he stepped in and he reached into the gorgeous black-and-gold marble shower and flicked on the water. He stripped down angrily, his wings twitching in agitation as he performed the charm that would remove his robe and shirt. He kicked off his trainers and his socks, then unbuttoned his trousers, letting them drop to the floor. Just as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his black and purple boxers, the door behind him opened.

"What do you want?" Harry bit out from between his teeth. He was still pissed from both his earlier fight with the Slytherin and from his fight with Hermione and he really didn't want to deal with a drunken Draco Malfoy right now. "I'm trying to get ready for bed."

Draco lounged against the doorway, taking in the lean, toned, golden body before him. Oh, he'd certainly noticed Harry filling out over the years; not that he'd ever have said anything. But now, with Gryffindor's Golden Boy panting after him like a dog in heat...well, why fight it? If someone yummy wanted him, he had every right to indulge! Some small part of Draco's mind wondered if that was the half-bottle of 100 proof vodka talking...the rest of his alcohol soaked brain didn't care if it was. He lazily ran his eyes from the tips of those gorgeous white wings, down over sleek, black hair and wide, muscled shoulders. His mercurial gaze took in the sleek back, the tapered waist, and then skimmed the boxer-clad ass to stare at the muscled thighs that came from years of gripping a broomstick.

"You said you wanted to talk." Draco purred, pushing away from the doorway and circling around the front of Harry. He took in the look of annoyance and contempt on Harry's face and lashed out. "What did you want to talk about? How big of a slut I am? How many people I've fucked?" He hissed the last word, making it sound even more obscene than usual. "Whether they were boys or girls or both? How good they were? How many different positions I took them in? Where we did it each time? How hard and fast and deep I went?"

Harry's face grew hotter with each word Draco purred out in that silky drawl of his. "Stop it!" He snarled, shoving Draco away from him. "You're disgusting and I don't want to be around you if you're going to be like this!" Before he could think to much about it, Harry shoved off his boxers and stepped into the shower, closing the wavy glass door behind him.

He stepped under the spray, dunking his head under it to try to drown out the nasty-sounding laughter from the other side of the glass. "You're pathetic, Potter!" Draco snarled, knowing full well the other boy could still hear him. "You have the nerve to call me a slut, without even knowing how many people I've been with and when I try to enlighten your holier-than-though self, you act disgusted! You were wondering and you know it!"

Furious with both himself and Draco, Harry's wings were spread as far as the shower would allow, which was about halfway, as it was a decent size. "Just leave me the fuck alone, Malfoy!" Harry yelled back. "I told you; if you're going to be like this then I don't want to be around you!"

"Fine!" Draco sneered at the glass, though he knew Harry couldn't see him. "See if I care! But don't come crying to me when you can't stand being away from me!" He stormed out of the bathroom, across the Common Room, and into their bedroom, shedding his clothes the whole way. By the time he was sprawled across the bed, he was wearing nothing but his unbuttoned trousers, which rode low on his slender hips. (Draco's commando!)

He was fuming. How dare Potter! Just because he'd slept with a few people...both male and female...didn't mean he was some kind of slut! He'd been in relationships. Sure, they weren't deep or meaningful or anything, but he'd been faithful during the time he was with each of his lovers. And just because Harry-bloody-Potter was a stuck-up little prude who didn't seem to understand that there was nothing wrong with having a healthy sex drive didn't mean he had to put up with being looked down on. NO ONE looked down on a Malfoy, and Draco was damned tired of having Harry Potter look down on him and his family! By the time Harry eased open the bedroom door (hoping futilely that Draco was asleep), said non-sleeping boy had worked himself up into a frenzy over the injustices done to him and his by Harry-bloody-Potter.

"I thought you didn't want to be around me." Draco snarled, not stopping his contemplation of the silvery canopy hanging above him "Shouldn't you be finding somewhere else to sleep?"

"You're the one who frequents beds that aren't your own, not me." Harry snapped back. He put his hands on his hips (clad only in some red boxers)and raked a scathing look over Draco's form. "If anyone should leave, it's you."

Draco shoved himself up to a sitting position, the room tipping unpleasantly when he did so. "Fuck you, Potter!" He spat, sick to death of Harry's shit. "You've done nothing but fuck me over since I met you and then you have the fucking balls to judge me on top of it? Keep your fucking private rooms." He got clumsily off the bed. "I don't fucking need this shit from you or anybody else."

"I fucked you over." Harry said it as a statement, but there was an edge to his voice that made it seem more like a question. "Malfoy, you're a real piece of work, you know that? Your father tried to kill me and my friends; tell me how you're the victim here."

"Ugh!" Draco picked up a pillow and threw it at Harry - it hit him in the center of his chest. "Merlin, Potter, I didn't try to kill you! Just because the guy who sired me is a total asshole who chooses to follow the most insane fuckhead the world has ever seen doesn't mean I'm cut from the same cloth! I'm sick of people judging me based on my father and his stupid fucking decisions!" He stormed past a stunned Harry, nearly tripping over his shoes on his way out into the Common Room. "I've suffered enough!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, turning around and following the irate blonde out of the bedroom. "I lived in a cupboard until I was 11, Malfoy. You don't know jack shit about what suffering is!"

Draco rounded on Harry, his eyes like storm clouds - dark and moody. "I don't know suffering?" He stalked closer until his face was only inches from Harry's. "My father - a man I idolized my whole life - tried to kill kids the same age as me, and some even younger!" His voice was low and compelling. "I have to live with that, every day. I have to live with people looking at me like I might turn on them any second...with mothers grabbing their children and ducking into shops when I walk by, like I might start throwing curses at their five year old! People who respected me, who took the Malfoy name as credit enough to purchase things in their stores, now refuse to let me purchase anything; like my money isn't good enough for them because of what my father's done."

Harry blinked slowly, then gently nudged Draco a few steps back. "Look, Malfoy, your father's done terrible things. He's hurt and killed loads of people - good, innocent people. He deserves every ounce of hatred people feel towards him, and nothing you say will change that."

"And do I?" Draco asked softly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his lips from trembling. "I'm seventeen, Potter. Do I deserve to have people refuse my money for things I didn't do? For things I couldn't stop? For things beyond my meager control? He's my father...I didn't choose that and I can't change it. I have to live with the fact that his blood runs in my veins. Do I need to be made to pay for it every single day as well?

Harry growled, annoyed. "I didn't choose to have Voldemort come after me. I didn't choose to be the one to defeat him. And yet, every time someone dies, everyone looks at me with these questioning eyes...and I know they're wondering why I haven't killed him yet. Why I haven't stopped him. Why people are still dying. And they blame me, even as they demand more than any teenager should ever have to give. And they demand it with a smile, Malfoy...like they're my friends and like they actually give a shit if killing him kills me, too." He shook his head, turning half-way away from Draco. "So don't talk to me about being made to pay for shit you have no control over. Just don't."

Draco took a step towards Harry, then stopped. "Look, Potter, I never said shit was easier on you. I just...I can't stand having you judge me too. Everyone's always judging me and finding me lacking in some way. My grades were never quite good enough for Father...my Quidditch skills just didn't quite measure up well enough for my team...my father's actions make me worthless in the eyes of everyone good...the fact that he got caught by you and your friends means I don't measure up in the eyes of the Death Eaters and their kind...I'm not good enough for the good and not evil enough for the dark and no one is willing to give me a chance to prove I'm not my father!"

He took a deep, steadying breath. "And then you said you were attracted to me...to my power. A powerful creature...one made of ether...said I wasn't lacking. That my strength, my power...is enough. Enough to look past the fighting and enough to look past everything my father's done. And then you found something else to judge me on." He gaze was harsh, bitter, and made Harry feel a bit ashamed. "And that one, tiny imperfection in my past...the fact that I've had sex with people I didn't love...that's enough for you to judge me lacking once again. To heap me into the same category as my father - someone beneath the precious, perfect Boy-Who-Lived."

"I didn't mean it like that." Harry said defensively, that tiny little voice in the back of his mind whispering a steady monologue of everything Hermione had said to him earlier. "You were looking at me like a was a freak of nature for being a virgin! Like something was wrong with me, when I've just never had the time to get that close to someone!" He glared at Draco. "You judged me first, Malfoy, and don't try to deny it. We both know why you want to be with me. Why you're willing to Bond with someone you think so little of."

"Oh we do?" Draco sneered. "Well then, Potter, enlighten me. What could make me want to be with someone like you? Someone so good, so pure, so innocent, so sweet that it makes my teeth ache just looking at you? Why would I possibly be interested in a permanent alliance with someone who, for once, doesn't find me to be lacking? With someone who looks at me like I have value, instead of like I'm less than worthy of even breathing the same air as them?" He scoffed. "Oh, and please...note the sarcasm."

"You want to align yourself with me so that you're judged by my actions, not your father's!" Harry shot back, rattling off everything Hermione had told him...everything he couldn't stop thinking of...everything he prayed wasn't true. "You want to be known as the consort of the Boy-Who-Saved-Everything, so people won't look at you as a Death Eater's son anymore...so they'll respect you again...so they'll value you again." Tears filled Harry's eyes...would no one ever look at him and see Harry? "You want to talk about someone having value? No one has ever valued me simply on the merit of being me. It's always been about being their savior...the one who defeated Voldemort. Even my friends started off talking to me because of what I am, rather than who! And now..."

Harry choked on a sob, then he wrapped his wings around himself protectively, continuing in a slightly-muffled voice. "I'm supposed to spend my life with someone who doesn't know the first thing about me. Someone who sees me as their ticket to a better life then the shitty one they're stuck with right now. Someone else who wants me just because I'm rich and famous and people are fuck-all obsessed with me. It's not fair. I'm supposed to be the hero...the hero is supposed to get love and family and happiness in the end, not someone attaching to them for their fame!"

Draco Malfoy was stunned, and suddenly feeling quite sober. Harry thought he wanted him WHY?!?! "Um, Potter...?" He lightly touched one of the wings forming a protective bubble around him. "Harry?"

The wings lowered slightly, enough for Draco to see his tear-stained face. "You know you're insane, right?" Draco asked in a gentle voice. "With or without my father, I've got money. I don't give a shit that you're rich. And I'm a Slytherin, remember? I actually prefer 'infamous' to famous...so, actually, you being fuck-all obsessed over because you're so good and wonderful is a bit nauseating to me." Harry's lips twitched a bit at that.

"So good of you to look past my nauseatingly good behavior." Harry said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "How wonderfully noble of you. Quite Gryffindorish, actually..."

"Can it with the insults for five minutes, Potter." Draco said, but without any heat. "Look, I think you're quite good for my reputation, yes." Draco decided honesty would get him further than anything else. "I'm not stupid - I know being your consort will give me a boost. Provided, of course, everyone doesn't decide you're a total loon again, in which case we'll both be sitting right where I am now anyway, so I won't really lose anything." He shrugged. "But you're also quite powerful and seem to be well on your way to destroying the Dark Lord, which isn't the worst thing any Gryffindor's ever done, that's for sure. I could certainly do worse than a rare, powerful creature who'll be more famous than anyone except for maybe Albus Dumbledore."

He touched his fingertips lightly to Harry's tear-stained cheek, feeling the dampness cling to his skin. "You're also not too hard on the eyes, which certainly doesn't hurt." He smirked a little. "Look, Harry, you've got quite a bit going for you and I'm Slytherin enough to admit that it appeals to me. It appeals enough for me to have announced my intention to become your consort. But we already agreed we're waiting to make it all official, right?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Well, yeah. But what's that got to do with anything?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head. "You're a bit slow sometimes, aren't you, Potter?" He chuckled at the annoyance that crept back onto the Gryffindor's face. "I'm not tying myself to you just yet, Potter, because I'm not entirely sure we're going to suit just yet. I don't know you very well and I'm not going to Bond with someone who...how did you say it?" He grinned and continued. "Ah yes...who doesn't know the first thing about me. We've got quite a bit of history to sort through and it's obvious neither of us trusts the other."

"So..." Harry sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "You're saying you want to get to know me. That we need to get to know each other. And that yes, my fame is appealing, but it's not enough to make you overlook everything we've been through, so you're going to wait and see if I've got any other redeeming qualities. Is that about right?"

"Um..." Draco frowned, his eyes narrowing. "Well, yes...but it sounds so cold when you put it like that."

Suddenly, Draco found his arms full of Harry Potter. His eyes widened, then closed with a soft moan as Harry kissed him passionately. After what seemed like far-too-brief of a moment, Harry pulled back, a huge grin on his face. "No, Draco, it sounds wonderful like that."

It took the blonde a minute to catch up with the conversation. "Um...it does?" He was truly puzzled. "You mean, you're not mad that I don't trust you or think you belong on a pedestal with a little gold crown?"

"Not at all." Harry grinned, a genuine grin filled with joy. "Actually, I'm rather fond of the idea that you don't think I'm some sort of god to be worshiped. So take your time deciding if I'm worthy of having an illustrious Malfoy for a consort...I kind of like being looked at as 'Harry' and not The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Oh, you're still The-Boy-Who-Lived." Draco corrected. "That's why you're getting a shot in the first place. I'm just smart enough to realize that it's Harry I'll have to live with for the rest of my life, so I'd better get to know him before I do anything irreversible."

And to Harry, nothing had ever sounded quite so wonderful as that.

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A/N: Whoa...that was not quite what I'd planned. Still, not too bad. Hope you enjoyed, and please review! They really make my day. And if you leave your e-mail, I'll add you to the mailing list for update alerts! ~ FA