The Amourette
The First Mistake
Title: The Amourette
Author: silverXserpent
Rating: R
[A/N] Hey my lovely readers! I’m so sorry that it took me so long to update! For those of you who checked out my LiveJournal, you’ll have read my explanation which was this: “I won’t be updating for a while because I’m gonna go out and enjoy the last week of my summer holidays...blah blah blah”. So I hope you guys that didn’t know, will forgive me for the long wait. I hope you all like this chapter, it’s the first one in this POV. Now onto the new chapter...
[Chapter Six] The First Mistake
A pair of silver eyes flickered in the thin beam of moonlight drifting in through the gap in the curtains. They were staring, unblinking and motionless, at a spot a few paces away. Not a sound disturbed this scene except for the soft and steady breathing of the man asleep on the sofa. He was curled up under a thick white duvet with just his head poking out from the edge of it, his unruly raven hair sprawled all over the armrest.
The man on the sofa was clearly in a deep slumber, not to be disturbed by anything and completely unaware of the figure watching him from the shadows of the night.
The silver orbs were fixed upon the raven haired man’s face with such an intensity that any man awake would have cowered beneath it’s gaze. Endless minutes passed this way, with only occasional movement from the sleeping man. The other, standing in the doorway of the bedroom, remained still. Completely still, lest he should awaken his victim.
Draco could not sleep. In fact, he had not been able to find peaceful rest for the past couple of nights. There was too much going on inside his head that demanded his unwilling conscience’s attention. He would toss and turn in the bed, feeling irritated and fidgety, until giving up and simply laying there as he let random thoughts sweep through his mind in a jumble.
Tonight however, he didn’t even attempt to fall asleep. He couldn’t. Not after what had happened hours before.
As he continued to gaze at the man in front of him, a thousand emotions stabbed at his insides, like sharp knives. He was bleeding. He felt pain, and hurt, and sadness all at the same time. Harry’s face looked so innocent and gentle now. Everything about it was so familiar, yet so different. Some things were completely unrecognizable in a way.
The last time he’d seen Harry, they had both been adolecent boys. Boys who knew nothing of the tribulations in life that would approach with the coming years, and who cared not about the consequences in their mistakes that they made. He was now looking at a grown man, who’s face showed that he knew much more than he once did years and years ago. One that had been through many experiences.
The thing was, Draco had no idea what had happened in Harry’s life all those years that they had lost touch and faded from each other’s lives. He had no clue what Harry had been doing since the War. For all he knew, Harry could have become the next Minister of Magic.
Eight long years, Draco hid from the prying eyes of the world. They had been lonely years spent in isolation and complete seperation from absolutely everything. He met with no one, talked with no one. It was just a world with himself and nobody else.
So many people assumed that he’d gone ove the the Dark Side and joined the remainder of Voldemort’s faithful servants, who would, in the end, try to re-conquer the world with Darkness once more. To take revenge upon the death of their beloved master. Draco had known even before the War had struck, that Harry would be in grave danger with or without the Dark Lord alive. If Voldemort was destroyed, then his followers would surely try to kill The-Boy-Who-Lived with their own hands.
He felt like a coward for hiding, and he hated himself for being so helpless and weak, for he could do nothing to protect Harry except to disappear utterly from his life. He could not fight for Harry. He wanted to, yes, but Dumbledore of course would not let him even if he tried to. It wasn’t safe.
Dumbledore had served as Dracosecrsecret keeper after the War. It had been his idea. He’d said that it was the only way he could protect Draco, hence protecting Harry at the same time. Draco still felt terrible about it all. He couldn’t help but think that it was his fault that Harry was in danger in the first place. Draco was too close to both Harry and the Dark Side, and there was too much of a possibility that he would be captured and used as bait to lure Harry out into the open if anyone found out about them being lovers.
Lovers. It seemed like such a fantasy now. It felt so long ago that he wasn’t even sure that the past had really been for real and had not just been a dream of his that he’d thought up in his own head. In a way, it seemed almost impossible that it had ever been true.
Yet, the look on Harry’s face every time their eyes locked, even for the slightest of moments, showed a shadow of regret and pain that Draco knew he himself had inflicted on Harry. He was the one that broke Harry’s fragile heart to into a thousand shards. He was the one that destroyed what could have been so much more.
The morning when Dumbledore had stood beside him while he wrote the short letter to Harry, he must have cried more than he’d ever cried in his entire life. It had to be rewritten five times because the words would be smeared with his tears and the hand that held the quill would be shaking uncontrollably. The expression on Dumbledore’s face had been sad and serious behind the half moon spectacles. And even though until then, he hadn’t cared a rat’s arse about the old headmaster, he couldn’t help but feel relieved to have someone who understood, beside him.
How Dumbledore found out about the relationship between Draco and Harry was a mystery, but the headmaster seemed to know a good many things that no one knew of. Perhaps he also knew of the many nights where the two were mindlessly snogging in empty classrooms and hidden broom closets. Draco’s mind drifted to Harry and he thought with a small smile that Harry probably would have been mortified if he knew that someone was aware of their past intimacy other than Weasley and Hermione.
How he wanted to tell Harry about everything. Every single bloody thing that had happened and all the reasons as to why he’d done what he’d done. He wanted to confess so that Harry would forgive him and love him once more. He wanted Harry back in his life. In fact, he’d dreamed of Harry and wept for him every night for months after the day that he’d sent Harry that awful letter. That letter had very near destroyed his life, but it had been the only way to insure Harry’s safety from the Death Eaters.
And now.... there he was. The man that drove his mind insane. In front of him and so unguarded. Didn’t Harry suspect him too? Didn’t Harry think he was guilty and that all he wanted was to hand Harry over to the Dark Side? Then why wasn’t he more protective of himself? Why didn’t he just kill Draco the first night when he’d appeared at Harry’s door unconscious?
Why did I even come here? Draco wondered with a sad smirk. Because Dumbledore sent me here? Because this was the only place that I could come to escape my father?
He couldn’t be sure of anything now. The only thing that was certain in his aching heart was that he wanted to be beside Harry for as long as he could, but by Harry’s attitude towards him, it was more than obvious that Harry didn’t feel the same about him. Who could blame him? Draco was simply a bad memory. Something that needed to be thrown away and out of Harry’s mind so that he could pick up the pieces and get on with his life. And it seemed that now, Harry had accomplished just that. He had a new life, he had new friends... and... Draco winced at the image of Harry dancing so erotically with another man...
And he has Alex...
Draco shook his head and kicked himself inwardly. No, he wasn’t going to be jealous. Harry deserved someone like Alex who wouldn’t end up breaking his heart in the end. He deserved someone who would treat him right. Draco didn’t deserve Harry. He never would.
Draco’s gaze faltered for the first time as he watched Harry’s serene face through the dimness.
It wouldn’t hurt if I went closer to him again... just this once...
If only time had stopped during those few mintues when he’d been able to hold Harry’s warm body against his own. If only Harry didn’t loathe him so much... enough to cry with hatred while dancing together... If only...
Hok aok a step towards the sofa very slowly, trying not to make the floorboards creak beneath his feet. He took another step.
His heart was beating much faster than usual as he neared Harry inch by inch. He knew that he was entering a forbidden zone, but he couldn’t possibly stop himself.
Soon, he was close enough that his spine was beginning to feel shivers running down it and his hands were weak with anticipation.
He knelt down beside the sofa soundlessly and held his breath as his eyes became level with Harry’s closed ones. It was such a beautiful sight. He longed to touch the raven haired man’s smooth and tanned skin, and feel the disheveled locks between his trembling fingers.
A tear creeped up behind his eyelid and he blinked furiously to keep it at bay. This wasn’t a time to cry over his own mistakes. This wasn’t a time to cry, period.
He bit his lip to try to subdue his churning emotions that weighed down his heart and to hold back a sob. But the tear escaped just the same and it fell down his cheek before he could wipe it dry. The drop landed on Harry’s face and he inhaled sharply in fear that Harry would feel it and awake because of it. His eyes widened when Harry’s lips curved downward into a frown and parted ever so slightly as if he was upset about something. His eyes though, remained closed.
Harry twitched beneath the duvet and his head rolled over onto it’s side so that he was now, completely face to face with Draco.
Draco’s mouth felt dry and he clenched his hand into fists, watching Harry’s every move nervously.
“...Draco...”
Draco’s eyes snapped open even wide and he stared at Harry, startled. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Did Harry just say his name?
Harry moaned and he gritted his teeth.
“......Draco.” he said again softly.
“H-Harry?” Dracosperspered tentatively, thinking that Harry was indeed awake now. But Harry didn’t reply after that.
Draco noticed that Harry’s hand had made it’s way above the covers and was now gripping the sheets rather tightly. So tight that his knuckles were turning white.
Pleading silently that Harry would not open his eyes, he reached out gently and touched Harry’s exposed hand with his own, and stroked it with his thumb in what he hoped was a relaxing motion. Immediately, Harry’ expression calmed and his hand loosened it’s grip around the duvet and eventually found their way around Draco’s hand.
Draco’s gaze was fixed on Harry’s face with rapture. He felt almost dizzy with desire at the warmness of Harry’s hand in his own.
I can’t be doing this. Worry plagued him at the thought of Harry waking up and discovering Draco hovering over him with their hands clasped together and their faces only inches away. Harry would surely throw him out if that ever happened.
But he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the soft hand. How could he when he was feeling so aroused by the mere presence of him? He felt like snuggling up close against Harry and burying his nose into the crook of Harry’s long and sun kissed neck. He wanted to feel Harry’s arms wrapped protectively around his own body and he wanted to sleep, knowing that he was safe and happy... But that would never ever happen again...
He would never be able to live perfectly happy, because somewhere inside him, he’d always feel guilt and longing for what would never be his. It was his loss...
Draco’s throat clenched painfully and he closed his eyes to try and steady his racing heart. He needed to cool off and calm down. He needed to...
The next second, he lost complete control over himself. He wasn’t even thinking. Wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. All that was in his mind was that he wanted Harry and nothing more.
He let out a soft whimper as he touched his lips gently to the full and rosy ones below him. Another tear streamed down his face and onto Harry’s perfectly masculin chin. It glittered and disappeared.
Although he didn’t expect any reply from Harry, he felt as if he was finally getting what he’d dreamed of all his adult life. Harry’s lips tasted so sweet and soft, just like cotton candy. He couldn’t stop crying.
“Harry...” he murmered sadly, slowly opening his eyes and parting their lips with an almost aching reluctance. And then, as if the realization of what he’d just done suddenly dawned on him, he let go of Harry’s hand and sprang back in horror. “Oh god... oh god...”
He’d just taken advantage of Harry in the worst way possible. He’d selfishly fulfilled his own desires by using the fact that Harry was asleep and done the absolute wrong... It was all wrong...
His insides, frozen cold, he stumbled backwards through the living room and into the bedroom where he shut the door as quietly as he could and collapsed to the floor.
He leaned his back against the bedpost and buried his face in his hands.
“Shit, I did not just do that... Oh fuck...” he cursed silently. “I’m so sorry Harry... God, I’m so fucking sorry...”
At that moment, there was a creaking noise coming from across the room and he hit his head on the post in surprise.
Wincing in pain, he looked up and saw that the door was standing open and Harry, in the doorway with his heavy eyelids drooping over his gleaming green eyes and his hair sticking out in an irrisistably sexy manner that made Draco gulp nervously.
Crap. Was all Draco could think of saying in his mind.
“Dra...Malfoy?” Harry mumbled sleepily scratching his stomach and yawning. “You’re awake?”
Draco didn’t reply, he just shifted his gaze to the floor. He couldn’t help but cringe at the sound of Harry calling him by his surname...
“I heard a noise and woke up to see the door close and...” Harry paused. “You okay?”
No, I’m not! Draco almost cried out. I just kissed you Harry! While you were asleep!
Harry shuffled his feet and bit his lip, as if trying to decide what to say.
“Listen-” Harry said, hesitating again and looking uneasy. “You.... you wanna talk...?”
“About what?” Draco asked quietly.
“About... about- last night.”
“What?”
“I said... do you want to talk about last night.”
Draco forced himself to meet Harry’s timid gaze and stared confusedly.
“But...”
Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.
“M-Malfoy... last night was... honestly, I wasn’t myself. I don’t know what made me act the way I was and I just wanted to apologize.”
“Why would you apologize?” Draco tried to read the expression on Harry’s face but he could only see Harry’s tired looking eyes through the darkness.
“I was just... emotionally stressed out about a lot of things- you know, work and everyday life I guess... and then it just exploded...”
A feeling of relief spread through Draco’s mind at Harry’s words. So Harry hadn’t been crying because he hated Draco...?
Draco offered a small smile and nodded understandingly.
“And uh...”
There was a short silence as Harry folded his arms over his chest and took a step toward Draco; Draco blinked and hastily stood up, thinking that Harry was upset about something. It certainly looked that way.
Their eyes met again and this time, they stayed locked for a long while. Harry’s eyes seemed almost sad and pleading, as if hoping that Draco would answer an unasked question .
Draco took an unsteady step back and raised a single eyebrow in a weak attempt to look questioning without the use of words. He watched as Harry licked his lips; the same lips that Draco had touched only a few minutes before...
He tore his eyes away from Harry’s lips and cleared his throat.
“Yes?” he managed croakily.
“I...” Harry took another step forward and then halted. With a shake of his head, he rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Forget it. Never mind.”
Draco frowned. “Why don’t you just tell me?”
“Because it’s... it’s nothing. Just forget it. Good night.” Harry abruptly turned around and walked quickly out the bedroom door and shut it with a sharp click. Draco faced the door with dissapointment seeping through his veins. Not to mention slight irritation. Why did Harry keep doing that? One second, he’d be on the verge of saying something that was obviously very important, and the next, he’d clamp his mouth shut and change his mind. It had been the exact same scenario last night too. What was it that Harry wanted to tell him each time? Was it the same thing tonight as it was at the club?
He slumped backwards onto the soft bed and huffed in frustration.
His mind drifted back to the kiss and he groaned inwardly.
Don’t think about it. Harry doesn’t know and he won’t find out if you don’t tell him. You’ll just have to act like it never happened.... damnit WHY did I have to do that?
He rolled over and buried his face into the fluffy comforter covering his (or rather, Harry’s) bed. I should be the one sleeping on the couch. No, I shouldn’t even be here. Fuck Dumbledore, fuck my life, fuck everthing.
[A/N]
It’s a short chapter but it’s a very important one. Not to eventful but eh.
I’m sorry that it took so long too. I promise to update soon but with summer over, I might update less frequently. But not too less frequently. I can assure you that I won’t leave this story unfinished under any circumstance. Thanks so much for those that take the time to review. Love you.
silverXserpent