Winter of the Heart

Harry Potter raked shaggy black bangs from his eyes. He couldn’t help but drag his feet. He felt like he was going to his doom.

If he had been on speaking terms with Pansy Parkinson, they would have commiserated over the fact that she was right- he was having detention over the Christmas holidays.

Harry hadn’t been invited to the Burrow for Christmas this year and so he was the only Gryffindor still on campus for the holidays.

He knew that he was being over dramatic but he couldn’t help but feel a foreboding chill as he hurried down the empty halls to his detention with Snape.

He hated Snape and Snape hated him. Everyone knew it, which was probably why Harry was given a detention with his least favorite professor.

Not to mention that the detention would be with Malfoy. Harry knew that he didn’t hate Draco Malfoy anymore.

He wasn’t a stupid child who believed that everyone was either good or evil. He knew that people had their reasons for doing the things that they did and that Draco’s were very good.

He hadn’t wanted to disappoint his parents, whom Harry could tell loved Draco despite all their flaws. Harry could remember Narcissa Malfoy’s cool hands on his arm as she inquired about her son.

She had been unable to hide her shaking. She cared about her child, something that made Harry forgive her for many things.

Yes, Harry was no longer a child who believed in just good and evil. He knew that he was feeling some semblance of attraction to the blond haired Slytherin and he knew that to act on it would ruin all of his friendships.

‘Not that they haven’t already been irreversibly damaged’, he thought morosely as he knocked on the door to Shape’s private chambers.

“Enter”, the unusually deep voice of Severus Snape never ceased to send a chill down Harry’s spine. There was something of awe under the distaste he felt for the potions master.

Harry knew that Snape had been watching over him for as long as he could remember. He had seen the way his father had treated the socially inept young Snape.

Harry had seen the pensive and he knew that Snape only watched over him as a debt to his mother.

He pushed the door and strode into the room. Snape’s private quarters were oddly enough not decorated in green and silver but a calming sea green and white.

He had been down here many times before as Dumbledore had commissioned Snape to train Harry to defeat the Dark Lord.

Looking around he took in the spacious sitting room with its comfy leather couches and large fireplace blazing merrily.

“Mr. Potter. How kind of you to join us”, Snape sneered down at the emerald eyed boy from his perch on a chair across from Malfoy.

“I- I’m sorry that I’m late”, He found himself looking down at his trainers. Snape always had that affect on him. He felt chastised as he waited for instructions.

“That’s just like you Potter, thinking the whole world revolves around you. It doesn’t, you know”, Harry looked up startled as Malfoy gave him a disgusted look.

He opened his mouth to retort and instead caught his breath as the firelight illuminated Malfoy from the side, dancing in his eyes, in his hair; on the clean white shirt and crisp dark slacks he wore. He was beautiful like that. Harry blinked and was speechless.

Malfoy frowned at the silence, clearly expecting some response but Harry couldn’t have spoken then if his life depended on it.

Snape raised a sharp black brow and smirked. It seemed as though the Gryffindor golden boy had been brought low by his Slytherin counterpart. He would have to talk to Draco later about the obvious infatuation that Potter had for him.

“You will be cleaning the trophy room tonight. Mr. Filch had advised me that if you have not completed cleaning the room and polishing all of the trophies that you will return every night until you do”, Snape stood and ushered both boys out of his rooms and into the hallway.

He led the way to the trophy room, explaining all the while. “You will use no magic. There are rags and other cleaning supplies already there for you to use”, He pulled open the doors and led the boys into the room.

“I have better things to do with my vacation time than waste my time on your detention so you will stay here until you have completed your work at which time you may come find me so that I can inspect your work.“, Snape said mockingly, running a long finger through the dust on the fire place mantle.

With a final nod for his godson, he left, his cloak flaring dramatically behind him.

-0-

Heaving a heavy sigh, Draco turned to look at the scruffy looking Savior. “Well, might as well get on with it. Which side of the room do you want?” He asked diplomatically.

Green eyes blinked owlishly at him from behind wire frames. “Which side?” Potter’s head darted from side to side as if trying to decide which side was more trouble. “The left, I guess”, Potter located the cleaning supplies and groaned as he hefted a feather duster.

“This is going to take forever”, He muttered as he took in the thick grey film covering everything.

The room was silent except for the sounds of cleaning for the next two hours. Both boys tried not to look at their neighbor and stayed on their side of the room.

Draco gulped as he watched the light from the glass dome ceiling play on that small delicate face. He knew he was in deep trouble as he felt his trousers tighten treacherously.

He swallowed painfully as he thought for the first time in his life he would love to be a broom. Potter knew how to hold a broom.

He never would have thought something like that could have turned him on but it did. He began to wonder if Potter could maneuver other things with such manual dexterity.

He steadfastly turned away. He knew that his parents didn’t care if he was gay and his friends already believed he wanted Potter, but he just couldn’t bring himself to prove them right.

A sudden loud voice shouting something unintelligible interrupted the silence, startling both boys.

A sharp click sounded through the room making them turn towards the door. ’Oh no’, Draco though as a sneaking suspicion came to him. ‘We’re locked in aren’t we?’

Potter hurried to exit and pulled ineffectively at the door. Draco sighed in disparagement and pulled his wand, casting an alohamora.

It bounced back alarmingly fast and Draco slid across the newly clean floor trying to escape. He gasped as his ass made contact with the hard tile floor.

“Shit”, Potter said, just about summing up Draco’s feeling’s on the matter and reached out a hand to help the blonde up.

Draco looked at it for a moment, flashing back years to when he had first held his hand out to the Boy Who Lived and how he had hoped the boy would take his hand.
He heaved a sigh, something he was prone to doing lately, and took hold of the small palm, pulling himself up.

“How long do you think we’ll be stuck here before someone realizes we’re trapped?” Draco let that strong quidditch callused hand go reluctantly.

“Who knows? Snape’s not going to come looking for us. He wanted us to find him when we were done, remember?” Potter turned back to return to his side of the room.

A startled sound had Draco hurrying to the black haired boy’s side. He blinked down at the covered picnic basket in confusion.

“That wasn’t here before, was it?” He kneeled down and uncovered the hamper.

A shocked gasp escaped him as he took in the contents of the basket. There, nestled innocently in the cotton folds, was lube. Lots and lots of lube. Clear lube and colored lube, scented lube and flavored lube, water based lube and lube made of things that Draco didn’t even knew lube could be made of.

“What’s this?” He gulped as Potter crouched next to him and pulled a clear glass dildo from the basket. “Ha ha… it kind of looks like a….” Emerald eyes turned to look at his face and the raven’s face suddenly blanched.

“It is!” He squeaked and dropped the glass appendage back into the basket, his face burning red.

“Oh my god! What- what is this stuff?” Draco would have laughed at the mortified scuttle the raven haired boy did to escape the basket if he wasn‘t thinking of ways to kill his two best friends.

He knew that they were the ones to blame for him being locked in a room indefinitely with Potter and lots and lots of lube.

Gazing at the discomfited boy who lived made Draco want to defile that pristine skin. He shifted as he felt his wings itch in their place behind his shoulder blades.

He’d been feeling like this a lot around Potter lately. He wasn’t a full veela so he didn’t need to be with his mate or die but he did want to find that special someone who he was born to love.

Sliding closer to the Gryffindor who was curled in a corner, he grinned. If Harry had seen the shark like display on the younger Malfoy’s face, he might have ran.

Oh, what was Draco going to do in a locked room with Potter and lots of lube for an unspecified length of time?

Decisions, decisions.