Smokin' Hot

*

Harry was glad for Ron’s friendship. It helped him through the next week with little difficulty. He was relieved to have someone to talk to. It had been far too long since he’d had a meal with someone other than the librarian.

He and Ron didn’t discuss Draco or Hermione much. Although Ron didn’t miss the looks of longing Harry shot at Draco whenever he would walk by, he didn’t say anything.

Hermione now seemed mad at both Ron and Harry. Ron because he had gone to Harry behind her back and Harry because he still refused to admit she was right. Her scoffs and noises of annoyance did not go unnoticed in class, but Harry tried his best to ignore her.

It wasn’t that he was mad at her anymore; he just didn’t want to admit she was right and hear her speeches until he was sure he had Draco back.

If what Eva had said was true about Draco, Draco certainly wasn’t showing it, or at least not that Harry could see. Every time he saw Draco, he was with Blaise, his confident smirk on his face as always. Harry began to wonder if Eva had been telling the truth. After all, she had admitted to being deceptive already.

The week leading up to the presentation passed slowly, and yet too quickly for Harry’s liking. He didn’t feel like he was ready for this. He hoped what he’d found would convince Draco of his feelings and what he thought of him.

He also didn’t exactly feel prepared for the presentation itself. He hadn’t talked to Draco for several weeks and they weren’t completely prepared either. He hoped it went well because Draco always seemed to be stressing that it was his grade too.

Harry was worried about the whole thing. Ron did his best to placate him by pointing out that he and Blaise were no better off. Their poet was Shel Silverstein and their presentation was full of childish poems that made no sense.

“Try analyzing that!” Ron had said.

Harry did admit that maybe he’d gotten a better poet, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it.

The Thursday before the presentation (which was to take place the next Tuesday), Harry was approached by a determined-looking Hermione at lunch. Ron was conveniently not present when she made her move.

She slid up beside him, unnoticed while he got his lunch from his locker. He had shut the door to find her standing beside him. He made to turn away but she caught his arm.

“Harry, stop,” she said, her voice holding a note of pleading. “I just want to talk to you.”

Harry had stopped, but said nothing, turning back to her and crossing his arms, waiting expectantly.

Hermione took a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said simply and Harry’s interest piqued. “I shouldn’t have butted into your… relationship. It wasn’t my place to judge Malfoy. I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I… I just want you to know that I want you to be happy and if he makes you happy then I guess I have to live with it.”

“Well, don’t sound so excited,” Harry replied sarcastically, but he could feel his anger ebbing away. The last part of her apology had sounded sincere.

“No, really,” she said, a note of urgency in her voice. “I may not like him, but maybe I should get to know him before I judge him.”

“You should, Hermione. You might find that he does care about school.”

“But… does he care about you?” Hermione looked at him carefully, waiting for his response.

“I don’t know,” Harry said quietly. “But I’m going to find out.”

Hermione smiled carefully. “So… do you accept my apology?”

Harry paused for a moment, more to keep her waiting than anything else. He had already kind of decided that he forgave her, as long as she didn’t start to lecture him.

“Yeah, I forgive you.”

She smiled and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Harry, and I promise, not one more bad word about him.”

Harry laughed as he pushed her off him. “The day you do that is the day I do all my homework.”

Hermione smiled and shrugged. Together, they went to meet Ron, Harry feeling that things were finally going right.

**

Tuesday dawned bright and warm. The early summer sun streamed into Harry’s room, waking him up far earlier than he would have liked.

He spent the morning nervously waiting for school to start. He could barely control himself as he walked to school with Ron and met Hermione at the lockers. He spent all of his morning classes trying to convince himself that everything would be fine. That didn’t help the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.

At lunchtime, he was far too nervous to eat anything, instead forcing himself to sit and wait impatiently while Ron and Hermione ate. After a while, he couldn’t take it and he left, ignoring their inquiries.

He decided he needed some fresh air and went around the other side of the school where very few people ever were. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He looked up and saw a cloud of white smoke drifting out from behind the corner of the school.

His eyes widened as he realized who it must be. He nearly had a heart attack, but managed to get a grip on himself. He took a step forward, wondering if maybe, this time, he might get through to Draco.

He walked around the corner carefully, coming to a stop in front of Draco, who was leaning against the wall, a cigarette in one hand. He straightened up when he saw Harry, a scowl coming on his face. “What are you doing here, Potter?”

“Draco, I just want to talk to you,” Harry said, staring at him pleadingly.

Draco took an angry drag of his cigarette. “I saw you patched things up with Granger,” he said acidly. “Listening to her, are you now?”

“No, I never—“

“She’s your best friend again, you must have believed her.”

“No, she admitted she was wr—“

“I don’t care, Potter,” Draco said, taking another drag of the cigarette, then flicking it violently into the grass at his feet. “Leave me alone.”

“What about our project?” Harry asked in a desperate attempt to keep Draco there.

Draco, who had turned to leave, looked back at Harry. “I do the first two, you do the rest.”

“But we don—“ Harry started but Draco was already walking away. He sighed and followed after him slowly, finding Ron and Hermione and spending the rest of lunch wondering if he was about to do the right thing.

After lunch, they all filed into Lupin’s classroom. Most people went to their partners to discuss last-minute details. Harry remained in his seat, but watched as Draco came in the room with Blaise. He didn’t look particularly happy.

Lupin started the class and began the presentations. Hermione and Millicent were first. Harry thought theirs was fairly good. Of course, it was Hermione; he hadn’t really expected any different.

Ron and Blaise were after them. Harry wasn’t paying much attention, too focused on what he had to do. He heard them read a few poems, including one about a polar bear in a fridge. Harry thought that was a bit odd.

It was over all too soon, though, and Lupin was calling him and Draco to the front. He gathered his papers and the book and made his way to his podium and Draco to his. He waited nervously as Draco started the presentation, reading two of the poems they had picked out and analyzing them both.

Next it was Harry’s turn and he read the poem they had picked out together. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach trying to fight their way out. When he’d finished the first, he paused.

He was silent for a minute while the entire class watched him. He was horribly aware of their stares, but couldn’t bring himself to read the last poem, the one he’d chosen.

Even Draco was watching him, his eyes showing the fear he kept hidden all the time. Harry could tell he was internally panicking that the project wasn’t completely done and they wouldn’t get full credit.

“Uh, Harry?” Lupin said quietly. “Do you have a fourth?”

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but Harry cut him off. “Yes, I do.” He swallowed nervously and opened the book of poetry to page 43 and read.

“I’ll keep a little tavern
Below the high hill’s crest,
Wherein all grey-eyed people
May set them down to rest.

“There shall be plates-a-plenty,
And mugs to melt the chill
Of all the grey-eyed people
Who happen up the hill.

“There sound will sleep the traveler,
And dream his journey’s end,
But I will rouse at midnight
The falling fire to tend.

“Aye, ‘tis a curious fancy-
But all the good I know
Was taught to me out of two grey eyes
A long time ago.”

Harry looked up and at Draco, catching his eyes and staring deep into them. Draco was staring back at him, his expression unfathomable. Harry hoped he had caught the underlying meaning in the last stanza.

He only broke the gaze when the class began to applaud and Lupin said they could sit down. Harry realized that he was still standing in front of the class and hastily took his papers and headed for his seat.

He spent the rest of the class wondering if it had worked, if Draco had understood. He didn’t listen to any of the other presentations after his own, too wrapped up in his own thoughts.

When the class finally ended, Harry gathered his things slowly, trying to ignore the beating of his heart in his chest, so loud that he could almost hear it.

He followed Ron and Hermione from the classroom but didn’t make it much further. A hand grabbed his shirt and pulled him to the side, out of the way of the flood of students going to their next classes.

He was pulled down an empty corridor and pushed against a wall, but not held there. He looked up to see Draco watching him, almost as though unsure of himself.

“Did you mean that?”

“Yes, Draco, I did,” he said quickly, as though if he didn’t say it, Draco would walk away. “I told you. I didn’t believe Hermione, and I’ve learned a lot from you. Besides, she doesn’t think that anymore.”

Draco was silent for a moment, his face blank. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“I made you do things that you clearly weren’t comfortable with. I caused problems with your friends. I caused problems with your family. Why do you still want me?”

Harry was surprised. “I did those things because I wanted to. I caused problems with my friends, and I’ve always had problems with my relatives. Draco,” he said softly, “you’re different than everybody else. You don’t care what they think and you’re willing to try new things. You stand up for what you believe in and don’t take crap from anyone.”

“And that’s why you like me?”

“Why else?” Harry asked, confused.

“Most people say my hair, or ass, or abs,” Draco drawled.

“Well, those are nice too, but that’s not why I like you and want to be with you.”

“So you do want to be with me?”

“Yes,” Harry said seriously. “Don’t you?”

Draco paused for a moment, taking a step forward. “You know, I’ve never done this before, right? So don’t expect too much, Potter.”

“Can you stop calling me Potter?” Harry asked hopefully.

Draco pretended to be thinking for a moment. “I guess I could.” He smiled at Harry and leaned in slowly, sliding a hand around Harry’s neck and tugging him forward into a kiss.

Harry couldn’t remember enjoying a kiss more. His hand came up to Draco’s waist as Draco’s tongue slid into his mouth slowly, savoring the moment. His tongue came up to meet Draco’s tentatively.

Draco’s ran his tongue over Harry’s bottom lip before using his teeth to pull the plump flesh into his mouth. He gave it a last nip before letting go and pulling away slowly. He moved back and Harry smiled.

“So we’re together?” Harry asked hopefully.

“What do you think?” Draco replied sarcastically before leaning in and capturing Harry’s lips in another kiss that would soon make them late to class.


~~**~~

A/N: There's still one more chapter left...please review!