How to Save a Life

It was past lunchtime on Sunday when Harry finally managed to peel himself out of his warm bed.

He wandered down to the common room and curled up in one of the squashy chairs by the fireplace. He buried his nose in a book trying to avoid eye contact with either Neville or Seamus, both of whom were shooting him meaningful looks.

“So, Harry,”

The dark haired boy’s heart sank at the sound of Seamus’ Irish lilt.

“Did you have a good time last night? You certainly seemed very relaxed around certain Slytherin’s!”

Seamus’s blue eyes twinkled as he saw a rosy blush creep up from under the collar of Harry’s tee shirt. Enjoying his friend’s discomfort immensely, he continued.

“We just didn’t have the heart to wake you; you looked so comfy, snuggled up in Malfoy’s lap.”

Harry’s head snapped up to shoot his friend a glare, just as Neville spoke up.

“Keep your voice down. Weren’t you the one rambling on about ‘what happens in the dungeons, stays in the dungeons’????”

Harry noted a faint hint of panic in Neville’s voice and suddenly remembered the sight of his roommate pressed up against Blaise, locked at the lips. This mental image did nothing to restore Harry’s calm, so mentally shaking the picture from his head he turned to the Irish boy.

“You’re not jealous are you, Shay? I mean, I noticed that you seemed quite interested in getting into Malfoy’s lap yourself. Harry’s voice was calm and smooth, which was definitely a bad sign.

Seamus however, simply grinned at him, refusing to take to bait.

“I wouldn’t have said no, Harry, this is the Slytherin sex god we’re talking about. Sadly, it seems there’s only one person he’s interested in cuddling up to right now.”

His meaning was clear but Harry chose to ignore it, turning instead to his rather dull Transfiguration text book.

Neville shot Seamus a warning look as he opened his mouth to continue, the Irish boy caught the glint in his roommates eyes and wisely closed his mouth.

Harry stared at the book but the words seemed to dance around the page in front of his eyes – he just couldn’t concentrate on homework.

His mind was full of the image of a semi naked, wet Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin’s body was as close to perfection as Harry’s limited experience allowed him to imagine. His skin was so pale that it almost gleamed. He had a sleek build, but toned muscles had been visible across his glistening torso.

The towel had been slung so low that Harry had caught a glimpse of a trail of blonde fuzz leading down from his navel, and ending up... Well, that thought caused a tightening in Harry’s pants so he made efforts to quickly change the path of his thoughts.

Harry couldn’t help but remember the feel of Draco’s long fingers as they raked through his hair, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around his body. Arms! Harry realised with a jolt. Malfoy’s arms had been toned, smooth, pale and without blemish. He sucked in a breath as a realisation shot through him. There was no Dark Mark on the blonde boy’s forearm. After comments that Pansy had made, Harry had begun to think he had been wrong about Draco’s Death Eater past, but seeing it so clearly with his own eyes gave Harry a feeling of indescribably happiness.

After a short while of gazing blindly at his homework, Harry slammed the book shut in exasperation. He just couldn’t keep his mind on schoolwork right now. Looking up, he saw Ron and Hermione enter though the portrait hole and, after a moment’s hesitation, they headed over to where he sat.

No sooner had the couple squashed together in one of the larger chairs, than Hermione dug deep in her bulging back and produced several outsized books. She smiled briefly at the other Gryffindor boys before disappearing behind one of the ancient looking tomes.

Ron turned his attention to Harry, gazing at him with an expression of confusion on his freckled face.

“What happened to you last night, Harry? Dean said you didn’t sleep in your bed.”

Harry started at this, unsure of how to answer. Neville had said earlier that they weren’t supposed to mention the party, but he couldn’t think of another explanation that would satisfy Ron.

Fortunately Seamus, of all people, sensed Harry’s dilemma and spoke up for him.

“It was my fault. I had a bottle of Ogden’s and gave him some, only alcohol and Harry don’t really mix very well. He ended up sleeping it off in the hospital wing.”

Harry flashed Seamus a grateful look before turning to look at his friends, feeling only slightly guilty at lying to them. Ron seemed perfectly satisfied with the answer and, Harry reflected, Ron had seen him drunk enough times to know that what Seamus said about his tolerance was perfectly true.

Harry didn’t miss, however, the slightly suspicious look that Hermione was shooting in his direction. For the first time since term began, Harry was grateful for the souring of relations between him and his oldest friends. He prayed silently that this would be enough to keep the bushy haired girl from making her usual relentless enquiries into the situation. The last thing he needed, now that he and Ron were on speaking terms again, was for the redhead to learn that Harry had, in fact, spent the night curled around a certain blonde Slytherin.

Fortune was indeed shining on Harry, and with one last leery look in his direction, Hermione returned to her Ancient Runes. Ron quickly engaged himself in a conversation about Quidditch with the other boys, loudly championing the Chudley Cannons to anyone who would listen. Harry could see that neither Seamus nor Neville were particularly interested, but smiled and nodded politely at the redhead’s comments.

Harry still had a faint throbbing behind his eyes and was in no mood for Ron’s enthusiastic diatribe. He fidgeted in his chair, trying to get comfortable. Finally giving it up as a bad job, he launched himself from the seat and walked over to the nearest widow. No sooner had he reached there, than he impatiently turned round and headed back to his friends again. He flopped down in his chair, another soul deep sigh escaping his lips.

“For the love of Merlin, Harry, What’s wrong with you today? You’re like a caged animal.”

Ron had roused himself from his Quidditch monologue briefly. Hermione looked up, her eyes scrutinising Harry’s pale face.

“Are you still feeling ok, Harry, maybe you need to go back and see Madam Pomfrey?”

Harry shook his head firmly, the last thing he needed was a visit to the hospital wing, he had spent more than enough time there over the years.

“No I’m fine; I’m just a bit restless is all.”

“Well why don’t you go for a walk or go flying. Just do something, Harry, you’re driving me crazy.”

Harry gave the girl a brilliant grin, he had been wondering how to make his escape without anyone getting suspicious and now she had just given him the perfect way.

“I think you’re right, Hermione. I’ll go and grab a broom; a good fly is just what I need to clear my head.”

Ron’s eyes widened and Harry held his breath, knowing the redhead was going to insist on coming with him. Before the words had even had chance to form on the boy’s lips, he received a sharp tap on his leg and a forceful glare from his girlfriend.

“Don’t even think about it, Ronald Weasley. You promised me we would spend the day together, and that is what we will do. Even if it kills us!”

Ron shrugged at Harry, who managed to return a sympathetic smile before fleeing the common room in search of a broom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And stay out!”

Pansy and Blaise turned their heads in the direction of this shout and were rewarded by the sight of an agitated Theodore Nott hurrying towards them.

He slumped into a chair at the side of Pansy and looked at her beseechingly.

“Pansy, can’t you do something about Draco? I want to get in our room and he refuses to let me. He’s in a real temper.”

Blaise turned to the girl hopefully; he too had been banished from his bedroom. “Yeah, Pans, you know he’ll listen to you. I wanted to have a nap this afternoon,” he whined

Pansy looked at both boys, laughter dancing in her eyes.

“Sorry, but you’re on your own with this one. I’ve got more sense than to disturb Draco when he’s in a temper, and so should you both. You know he’s best left alone till he calms down.”

“Well what’s wrong with him? He was fine last night and now he’s practically foaming at the mouth,” Theodore questioned with a puzzled look on his face.

Blaise sniggered, “Sexual frustration.”

The three friends shared a burst of laughter at this, which stopped suddenly at the sound of a slamming door. They looked up expectantly just in time to see the subject of their conversation stalking towards them, an ominous look in his grey eyes.

Draco made his way over to them and slumped down on the very sofa that had played host to him and Harry Potter the night before. Pansy sat looking at the blonde boy expectantly.

“Pansy, will you stop bloody staring, you’re making my head hurt,” he snapped.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Draco; I only wanted to know what happened between you and Harry this morning. He ran out of here as though there were a pack of Dementors after him.” The dark haired girl leaned forward in her chair, nearer to the prone figure of her friend.

“What did you do to him, Draco?”

Draco sat up quickly, a hand grabbing at his forehead to relieve the pressure caused by the sudden movement.

“I didn’t do anything,” he snarled. “I was so bloody restrained that I made Hufflepuff’s look like raging nymphos”

A quiet snigger caused Draco to turn his head in the direction of its author.

“And I don’t know what you’re sitting there looking so smug about, Zabini. How come I’m the one getting the interrogation when you were the one with your tongue down Longbottom’s throat most of the night. Why don’t we discuss your love life for a change?”

Blaise smiled serenely at the annoyed look on his friends face. “Because I’m not Draco Malfoy, and Neville is not Harry Potter.” Blaise ignored Draco’s mumbled ‘thank fuck’ before continuing,

“Draco, all we’ve heard from you for years is how much you hate the boy and yet last night he was curled up in your lap like a kitten. Of course we’re interested, we’re only human. And more than that, we’re your friends Draco and we care. What happened?”

Some of the tension eased out of Draco’s body and he allowed himself to relax back against the soft leather of the sofa. His hands rubbed at his eyes and a groan escaped his lips.

“What the fuck am I going to do? I woke up this morning with him wrapped in my arms and his hard cock digging in my thigh. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to jump him there and then?”

Pansy’s eyes widened, “He had a hard on?”

Draco nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak any more for fear of betraying further weakness. His hands were still pressed against his tired eyes so he missed the satisfied look that passed over the girls face as she sat back in the chair.

“So that’s what freaked him out then?” Blaise asked.

“I suppose it could have been that, or it could have been the sound of Draco’s wanking session that did the trick!”

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Theodore; two were widened in surprise and one pair in abject terror.

“Draco, you didn’t?” Pansy’s voice shook slightly with repressed laughter.

“Fuck off, Parkinson, this isn’t funny. I can’t believe he heard me.”

Blaise and Theodore shared an amused look,

“C’mon, Draco, it’s not like you’re particularly quiet when you wank. Theo and I regularly wake up to the sound of you beating off. I quite enjoy it.”

Draco looked horrified at this, “Pervert,” he snapped.

The Italian boy smirked at his friend’s angry face. “Relax, Draco, its quiet a compliment really. Just the sound of you wanking gets me off most mornings.”

The blonde boy gaped open mouthed at this, whilst the other three laughed at his discomfort.

“Really Draco, don’t be such a prude. You’ve had your cock up his arse, so I hardly think this is something to get squeamish about.” Pansy sat back in her chair, a smug look on her face.

Draco was seriously considering hexing his friends; in fact he was already fingering his wand thoughtfully when a nervous looking first year Slytherin tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

The small boy flinched wildly when Draco spun round brandishing his wand.

“Sssorry,” the small boy stuttered.

“Well, what do you want? And it better be important” snarled the blonde, taking out his frustration on the shaking child in front of him.

“There’s someone at the door asking for you, I think its Harry Potter.” This sentence came out so rushed that Draco could barely make out what the boy had said, but his ears definitely pricked up at the last two words.

He was on his feet in an instant, pushing the first year out of the way, he strode over to the common room entrance. Standing there on the threshold was a nervous looking Harry Potter, one look at his green eyes and Draco felt the last of his anger melt away.

“Harry,” he greeted him cautiously.

“Hi,” Harry answered shyly. This had seemed such a good idea to him on the way down to the dungeons, but now his hands were sweating and he seemed to have lost the ability of speech.

A few awkward moments passed during which time neither boy spoke. Finally, Draco noticed the broom in the Gryffindor’s hand,

“Have you been flying?”

Harry shook his head, relieved that the Slytherin had broken the painful silence.

“No, I’m just about to go.” He shifted his feet nervously, a light flush staining his cheeks.

“I wondered... doyouwanttocomewithme?”

The words flew out of Harry’s mouth quicker than a snitch, but Draco understood perfectly and felt his stomach turn a perfect somersault. Trying to hide his elation but failing miserably, he grinned stupidly at Harry.

“I’d love to; just let me go get my things. You want to come in and wait?”

Harry nodded, feeling warmed by the smile that lit the blonde boys face, and followed Draco into the common room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Harry had produced a golden snitch from his pocket, all the earlier awkwardness between the two boys evaporated.

Green and silver eyes glinted with a hint of their old competitiveness. They mounted their brooms, grinned at each other and soared into the air.

They came to a halt, brooms only feet apart and eyes darting round, hunting for the gleam of gold that would lead them to victory.

“I bet you’ve missed this, Malfoy!”

Draco turned his head to find a cheeky grin spread across Harry Potter’s face.

“What’s that?” he asked, intrigued.

“Losing to me, of course.”

Draco took the jest in the spirit it was intended. “I only let you win out of pity, Potter,” he drawled. “I could have wiped the floor with you if I had really tried.”

Harry shook his head, eyes glinting with humour. “Whatever, you’re going down, Malfoy!”

“Not right now I’m not. But if you ask prettily enough later, I might be persuaded.” Draco finished up by giving Harry his best seductive wink.

While the Gryffindor struggled to recover from the shock that Draco Malfoy was flirting with him, the Slytherin pulled sharply to the right on his broom and tore downwards. He had sighted the snitch!

A split second later and Harry was right on his tail. Draco tried every trick he could think of to shake Harry’s concentration, but the Gryffindor’s eyes were focussed on the glint of gold that flitted temptingly in the distance.

As Harry pulled level with him, Draco risked a quick glance at the other boy. He sucked in his breath as he took in the look of sheer pleasure on Harry’s face, his cheeks flushed pink, he green eyes bright and shining, his dark hair...well, his dark hair looked as messy as usual but Draco found it very cute despite himself.

Suddenly the snitch changed direction and both boys were forced to perform 180’s at high speed. Harry’s hands tightened their grip on his broom, feeling a brief pang of regret that it wasn’t his trusty firebolt.

They flew hard for the next 20 minutes, each trying to impress the other with twists and turns. Draco had a look of grim determination on his face, he had never caught the snitch against Harry and was determined that this would be the first time. Twice he had come within reach of the snitch, his arm reaching out, hands grasping, only to have it zip off in another direction leaving him frustrated beyond belief.

Harry was revelling in the feeling of flying against Draco again. Nothing else mattered to him at that point other than the golden snitch and, he secretly admitted to himself, the golden head that kept distracting him from the prize.

Draco caught sight of the snitch way below them and instantly dropped into a dive. Harry followed a split second later, both of them hurtling towards the ground at breakneck speed. As hard as Harry tried to keep up, his Cleansweep was no match for Draco’s firebolt. Before Harry could catch up with the other boy, Draco had pulled up short, his hand raised jubilantly in the air, his fingers curled tightly around the snitch.

Any disappointment Harry might have felt about losing quickly disappeared when he saw the look of pure joy on Draco’s face.

The two boys reluctantly made their way down to the ground, Draco was almost panting from the exertion of beating Harry. He flopped down onto the ground, lying on his back grinning up at Harry.

“Looks like it’s you that’s going down. Harry” he smirked, suggestively.

Harry merely flopped on the ground at his side, “not bad, Malfoy, I’ll give you that.”

“Not bad? I was bloody brilliant, admit it.”

Harry laughed at the other boy’s enthusiasm, “Ok, Draco, you were bloody brilliant.” Then seeing the smug look on the other boys face, he continued. “Of course, if I had been on a firebolt instead of this heap of crap then you would have been eating my dirt.”

Draco rolled onto his side and punched Harry playfully, “No one likes a sore loser, Potter.”

They lay there in silence for a few moments, each racking their brains for something to say. Harry got there first,

“I’ve been meaning to ask you how you’re mum’s doing. It can’t be easy with your dad being...” Harry trailed off here, not wanting to bring up bad memories.

“In Azkaban, you can say it Harry, its ok.” Draco turned his head and smiled weakly at Harry, just to let him know there were no longer any hard feelings about this.

“She’s doing ok I guess. It’s just so frustrating for her having this whole investigation hanging over her neck. I mean, she’s grateful that she’s not in Azkaban with Father and I guess we have you to thank for that, but she’s been under house arrest for months now and I think it’s starting to get to her. Especially now that I’m not there for company.”

Harry rolled onto his side and faced the other boy, “Have they given her any idea of how much longer it’s going to take? They really seem to be dragging it out but I can’t see that they have much to go on.”

Draco shook his head, “They haven’t. But I guess they are just having too much fun holding it over her. She’s just another Malfoy to them; the Ministry know they haven’t got anything concrete on her, so they just found another way to punish her.”

Not knowing what to say to that, Harry fell silent. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Draco, but he just wasn’t sure how he would react. Deciding to take a risk, he took a deep breath and spoke.

“Draco, can I ask you something?”

“I rather think you’re about to Harry.” Draco smiled, but seeing the serious look on the Gryffindor’s face, he stopped.

Here goes, Harry thought to himself. “How come you don’t have a Dark Mark?”

He braced himself for the Slytherin’s response, not sure if he was ready for the answer, but knowing he couldn’t hold the question in any longer.

Draco let out a bitter chuckle, “That’s easy, Harry. I don’t have the Dark Mark because I was never a Death Eater. Killing Dumbledore was to serve as my initiation, a way to prove myself worthy to Voldemort. I failed and was punished for it, part of that was his refusal to mark me. Not that I minded by then, after he threatened to kill me and my parents, I wasn’t exactly his loyal servant.”

“I’m glad.” Harry placed a comforting hand on Draco’s arm.

“You’re glad about what?” Draco asked, confused.

“Glad that you weren’t a Death Eater, that Voldemort didn’t mark you.”

“Me too, Harry,” Draco sighed.

“Besides,” Harry added, with a trace of a smirk on his lips. “You’d have made a shit one anyway.”

Both boys burst out laughing at this, the tension broken. Draco held up the snitch that was still clasped tightly in his hand.

“Want a chance to regain your dignity Harry? How about we make it the best of 3? Only this time we’ll make it a little more interesting.”

Harry looked at him suspiciously, “What did you have in mind?”

“How about the Loser has to wear the winner’s house colours for a week?”

Harry smiled to himself, mentally picturing Draco in Gryffindor red and gold, “You’re on!”

Draco released the snitch and the stood up, watching as it fluttered off in the distance. They both mounted their brooms quickly and tore after it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could have heard a pin drop in the Great Hall on Monday morning when Harry Potter sauntered in wearing the green and silver of Slytherin. He slipped into his seat, trying not to laugh at the look of outrage on Ron’s face as he took in Harry’s outfit.

He saw Draco’s grinning face over at the Slytherin table and gave him a nod.

“Would you mind explaining to me, Mr Potter, exactly why it is you are wearing that outfit?”

Harry turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing behind him, not looking overly pleased.

“Just promoting inter house unity Professor,” he quipped with a smirk. After all, he reasoned, she was the one who had asked him to build bridges between the houses, so what could she really say to him.

Professor McGonagall seemed to realise this too. “Very well Mr Potter, in that case, 10 points to Gryffindor” she said, somewhat begrudgingly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time Saturday came round, Harry was almost sorry to see the back of his Slytherin uniform. He would never grow tired of seeing the look of outrage on Ron’s face every time he had looked at Harry’s robes. However, just as a gesture to the boy, Harry pulled on a red sweater as he headed downstairs for lunch.

“Nice to see you back in house colours, Harry.”

Harry smiled at Hermione, knowing that she too had secretly enjoyed Ron’s horror at Harry’s wardrobe this last week

Before he could reply, he noticed an owl swooping down towards the Gryffindor table, clutching a long parcel in his claws. The owl pulled up in front of Harry and dropped its burden, which he caught only by dint of his seeker honed reflexes.

Harry held the parcel and his breath, he knew what it was but he just couldn’t figure out where it had come from. His shaking fingers peeled back the wrapping as his housemates looked on. It was a brand new broom, a firebolt, just like his old one.

He couldn’t recognise the writing on the parcel and had no clue as to who had sent it. Just then a small note fell out of the wrapping, picking it up eagerly, Harry read it. It wasn’t signed, but from the three words scrawled on the parchment, Harry knew exactly who it was from. The note read;

‘No more excuses’.

His eyes snapped to the Slytherin table seeking the pale blonde head but he was disappointed. He turned to speak to Neville at his side just in time to see Draco disappearing out of the Great Hall.

He thrust the broom at Neville with a quick request to look after it, and then went running out of the hall after Draco.

It didn’t take long for Harry to catch up with him.

“Draco, wait up! I want to talk to you.”

Draco turned slowly to face him, “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to say thank you, but I can’t accept that, I know how expensive they are.”

Draco gave a dismissive wave of the hand, “Rubbish, of course you can. Just accept it in the spirit it was given.”

Harry looked at him questioningly so Draco explained further.

“Look, its simple. I got you that broom because the next time I beat you to the snitch I want to know it’s because I’m better than you. I’m not having you blame the equipment next time, Potter!”

Harry smiled warmly at him, “And what happens when I beat you!”

“Oh please, as if that’s going to happen again.”

“I might just let you win out of gratitude,” Harry smirked. “Seriously though, Draco, thank you, it means a lot that you would do that for me.”

Draco shrugged again, “well, that’s what friends do isn’t it!”

Harry was tempted for just a split second to drag the other boy into a hug, but before he could do something so embarrassing, the mood was disturbed by Ron’s arrival in the dungeons.

“Trying to buy friends now are you, Malfoy? Mind you, I suppose with your last two goons dead, you are in need of replacements.”

Harry looked at Ron, stunned by his casual cruelty in mocking the deaths of Draco’s friends.

“Fuck you, Weasel,” Draco snapped.

“Oh dear, such bad language,” Ron mocked. “That’ll be 20 points from Slytherin I think!” he finished smugly.

Draco glared at him fiercely, “You can’t do that.”

“Oh I think you will find that I can, Malfoy. I am head boy in case you hadn’t noticed”

Draco sneered at the redhead, “we all know that, Weasley. What none of us can figure out is who in their right mind would give that position to you, instead of Harry.”

Ron flushed in anger at this but Draco didn’t notice. He was too busy watching the uncomfortable look on Harry’s face and suddenly something clicked. He looked back at Ron with a dangerous smile on his face.

“Oh I understand now,” he drawled. “Potter turned the job down so they went for second best. How does that feel Weasel? Going through life living off Harry’s scraps? You probably only got Granger because Harry wasn’t interested in her. It must be so demeaning.”

“Draco,” Harry said in warning, seeing that Ron was hanging on to his temper by a thread.

Suddenly, Ron’s hands slammed Draco against the dungeon wall, his face twisted with hatred. Silver eyes bored into him.

“Hardly behaviour befitting a head boy, Weasley, what would McGonagall say if she heard.”

Harry placed a hand on the redheads arm, “Ron, get off him.”

Draco smirked, “it’s ok, Harry, I can handle the Weasel.

Ron let go of Draco’s robes and stepped away from him. “You think you’re so clever, Malfoy,” he spat. “You think cos you’ve got Harry on your side that everyone else is fooled by your act.”

Draco leant against the wall, arms folded across his chest, regarding Ron coolly.

“Well, Harry’s not your friend, not really. He only gives you the time of day because McGonagall guilt tripped him into it, and he was too nice to say no.”

The words cut into Draco like a sharp blade and his mask slipped for just a moment. Ron noticed, triumphant.

“Not so smug now, are you, ferret?”

Draco didn’t reply. He pushed off the wall and stalked away from the two Gryffindor’s.

“Draco, wait!” Harry pleaded.

Draco didn’t wait, and Harry had to watch as his blonde head disappeared from sight.

“Ha, serves him right, slimey snake, eh Harry?”

Harry looked at his friend, rage bubbling in his chest.

“Fuck you, Ron,” he snapped before running off into the dungeons in search of Draco.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco hadn’t actually gone very far. He couldn’t face going back into the common room so had slipped into the empty potions classroom.

His head was spinning, how could Harry do that to him? Why would he be so cruel as to let Draco think they were really friends, when all along it was an act? He lashed out at the wall, feeling the rough stone skin his knuckles.

He should have known better. After all, why would Harry Potter want to be friends with him? And yet it had seemed so real, so genuine. Draco couldn’t believe that only a week had passed since that night Harry had curled up in his lap, which had been the best night of Draco’s life so far.

Draco felt tears prickle at his eyes, he blinked furiously, Malfoy’s don’t cry he told himself sternly. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. Just as he was managing it, the door burst open, in came Harry Potter and Draco’s world fell apart once more.

“Go away, Potter,” he growled.


Harry’s heart sank when he saw the look of hurt in Draco’s eyes’. He reached out a hand, tentatively, to touch him. Draco shook him off,

“Fuck off and leave me alone, Potter. I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not like that, Draco; I do want to be your friend.” Harry’s words and face were so earnest that Draco felt himself weaken.

“Is it true? What Weasley said? Did McGonagall tell you to befriend me?”

Harry walked closer to the blonde boy, “It is and it isn’t” he said, somewhat cryptically.

Draco huffed, “Make your mind up Potter, she either did or she didn’t. It’s really a very simple question.”

Harry came closer still, backing Draco up towards the wall.

“She spoke to me at the beginning of term. She told me she was worried that there would be trouble between the houses this year and that she thought people would follow my example.”

Harry’s hand was on Draco’s arm now and the blond boy didn’t flinch from the touch this time.

“I didn’t become your friend for any other reason than that I wanted to, Draco, I swear.”

Draco’s body sagged, “I just don’t know what to believe, Harry.” His blonde head drooping, avoiding Harry’s intense gaze.

Harry was terrified that he was going to lose Draco before they had even really got to know one another. So scared, that he acted on impulse. He reached out one hand and tipped Draco’s chin up so that their eyes met. Leaning forward slightly, nervously licking his lips.

“Believe this,” he whispered as he gently lowered his lips onto Draco’s. His hands brushed lightly up the side of Draco’s face before burying themselves in the silky strands of his blonde hair. His heart sang as he felt Draco relax into the kiss and arms snake round his waist.

Then Draco was pulling Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it and Harry thought he would cry from sheer pleasure. He allowed his tongue to slip between Draco’s parted lips, probing the warmth of his mouth.

Hands around Harry’s waist held tighter, pulling him flush against Draco’s body. Harry shifted his position and felt Draco groan into his mouth as their erections brushed against each other. Harry panted as he pulled back from the embrace, resting his forehead against Draco’s. Their eyes locked on each other in silence, till Draco spoke

“Well, that’s new.”

Harry nodded, smiling, “Yes, and we’re definitely going to do that again.”

“Idiot” Draco said affectionately, his hand ruffling Harry’s hair.

Harry felt Draco take hold of his hand and begin to tug him towards the door.

“I don’t want to go, Draco,” he whined. “I want to stay here and...do stuff.”

“Oh I think we can find more interesting things than ‘stuff’ to do, Harry. But let’s go back to my room first, anyone could see us here.” He saw the faint look of alarm in those impossibly green eyes and smiled.

“Don’t worry Harry; your virtue is safe with me, for now at least.”

He dropped a gentle kiss on Harry’s pouting lips and propelled him out of the classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~