Pre-Ordained

Chapter 2
Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling, so does Hogwarts, but the stuff written is the by-product of my mind and my obsession with Draco Malfoy.

Thank you, guy, I’m so happy that you gave such reviews. For those of you wanting Draco (everybody loves Draco!), this is his chapter. ((hugs Draco)) It’s his turn to shine! (not like he doesn’t already) Those who didn’t review last time, review this time, please.

Oh, and I promise, it’love ove its rating to be NC-17 later and this one might have a certain sweet bit. Patience is a virtue.
Peace,
Errad
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Draco Malfoy was rather taken aback by the show, and his usually sharp tongue remained quiet. He, forgetting about Crabbe and Goyle, and dazed, followed in the footsteps of Ron and then Harry and Hermione. Instead of turning to slip out into the rare autumn sunshine, he turned to go up the stairs and down the many corridors, to the observation tower. He panted slightly as he rested on the rough, hewn windowsill, leaning out so the cool breeze ruffled his hair. Even though the air was still warm from the summer, a cold breeze, made goosebumps rise on his flesh. He donned his cloak, fingering the Slytherin crest, thinking of how it was what he wished for most of his life, and when he got it, it turned to be his doom.

Draco saw Hermione and Harry standing by the edge of the water. Harry had his back to Hermione, and in vain she was motioning to Ron, who was sitting moodily by the base of a tree. Each time she would grab his hand, he would pull roughly out of hers, or Draco’s hopeful mind wished that it were roughly. Actually, Harry had never given Draco any hope that he was gay, never mind that he was attracted to him. Hermione was dragging Ron, his bright red hair a beacon against the turf. When Hafacefaced Ron, he just shook his head in agitation and did what made Draco’s stomach heave in excitement and arousal. Harry took of his clothes, but for his boxers, and dived into the glassy, dark waters of the lake. Draco closed his eyes in sweet remembrance of his lean body, his shoulders so broad and strong, yet his form so feminine, so that Draco wanted to shelter from eternity.
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Harry felt the cold water surrounding him, stroking him, comforting him. He wanted his heart could be as cold as the water, to be encased in ice forever more. The cold around him didn’t make Harry Potter’s heart stop burning from unrequited love, love not returned, not rebuffed, and love never could be given. He felt an icy tentacle stroke him, and he wished that it were Malfoy, Draco that stroked in his time of bewilderment, his time of need. His lungs were screaming for air, but he did not come up, he could not will his body to, he was just too tired of not owning himself anymore.

Then common sense took hold of him, his heart felt, but his brain did, and he pushed himself up, millions of tiny droplets of water breaking from the crystalline surface as he did, settling on his long, black lashes, closed from the hurt of living. He tasted salt on his tongue and knew it was not the freshwater of the lake on his face, but his tears, his tears resulting from years of a forbidden want. A constant poison to him, Draco Malfoy, that his body and heart yelled to take, his hunger matched of those that need acid, or marijuana to function. It was addiction from the start, from the time standing across that silvery blonde in Madam Malkin’s Robes. Harry swam fast, as if trying to out-run his desire, his heartbreak. To him it seemed that was his fate, to live in constant heartbreak and sadness.

Harry’s feet felt the ground and stumbled out into the lawn. He felt people staring, but walked resolutely to castle. He knew that later all of this must be made up for, but he couldn’t stand it yet. He would have to go up to the observation tower where he was insured to be alone. His feet carried him automatically to his favorite haunt. The tears that Harry was trying to stop mixed with the water dripping from his raven hair onto his emerald eyes that were blazing from injustice. He stumbled into the doorway, barely seeing.

“You, ” to him his voice was full of full longing, betraying him.
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Draco’s eyes fluttered open, as his ears heard a voice full of hatred. He couldn’t stand it. Harry Potter was standing before him, dressed only in boxers that clung to his skin, showing of his extraordinary features.
And he hated him.
Draco’s heart rebelled against the thought. Dropping his cloak, he caught up Harry, who looked so lost and so poignant in his despair, and kissed him. Slowly, savoring the touch of skin to skin, of lips to lips, his tongue probing into his mouth. Best of all, Harry responded he kissed back. It was not his fantasy! The one he fancied was clutching him with want.

A wind found its way into the tower and chilled Draco, making fright clutch at his spirit. Breaking away, Malfoy ran, sending his cloak fluttering to the ground.
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Harry was left standing. He was cold and he realized, for the first time how very much alone he had been and was now. The kiss with Draco was the first time he had been together with somebody, truly together. Now it was all over, this was a mistake, his mind was telling him. Clutching Draco’s cloak around him, he felt more secure, it was as if Draco’s soul lingered in the very fabric of that green and black cloak.

“It was a mistake,” Harry told himself aloud, trying to kill hope inside, for with that particular hope, he did not think he could continue to live as he had done before.

It was a mistake.
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I hope you like it. Please review.
Double peace,
Errad
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Thank you, thank you, thank you, for liking it people. It makes me feel loved. I\'ll try to post later tonight.