One Sweet Day

On the way to the tower of birds, Harry dusted himself off, and fixed the small tear in Draco's shirt.

"Thank you," the other boy said stiffly. Harry tilted his head.

"You're not used to thanking people, are you?" He asked. Draco sneered without malice.

"You're a quick one, aren't you?" Harry raised his arms in defense, and Draco sighed. "No, I'm not. I was raised to the belief that I was better than everyone, and that I don't need to thank people because anything they're doing that needs thanking is what I deserve anyway."

"Your father taught you that?" Harry asked, and was rewarded with a nod.

"My mother was kind, and gentle, for all that she believed the same things. She just didn't want it out in front of everyone. She's the reason we kept up such a good front during everything thats happened."

"Your dad's an asshole. I'm not sorry he's still in Azkaban." Draco looked at Harry sharply, but didn't say anything for a long while.

"I'm not, either." He said at last. "It was hard on my mother at first, but only because they've been together for so long. Now, I think she's happier without him around, and I know that I am."

"did he ever... beat you?" Harry asked, almost timidly. Draco snarled.

"If he did I would have killed him, not that it's any of your business."

"My uncle beat me sometimes," Harry said, letting Draco's threat roll off his back. "Not all the time," he added, when Draco turned a horrified look on him. "Just when he'd had a particularly bad day at work, or if I ever gave my aunt Petunia something to complain about. I was good at avoiding them, though, so it didn't happen very often, and he couldn't reach into my-" Harry cut himself off. Draco revealed tiny snippets of his life, just enough to shut him up without exposing too much, and here he was ready to rattle off his life's story!

"Into your what?" Draco's voice was soft, and his eyes were still wide with horror.

"Room. Why are you looking at me like that?" His steady gaze was starting to make Harry uncomfortable.

"Wizarding children are a blessing, pure-bloods doubly so. You're... almost pure-blooded, but they shouldn't have beaten you for it!" Harry gawked at him for the almost-compliment. Well, coming from Malfoy it was high praise indeed. "Parents found guilty of abusing their children can be sentenced to fifty years in Azkaban, at the least."

Harry shrugged. "It was no big deal. It was just life," he said. The more he talked about his home life with the Dursley's, the more horrified Draco looked. Harry never thought he'd see pity in those deep grey eyes, but he found it there that day. The more he revealed about himself, however, the more Draco revealed about his own home-life, which made Harry's secret-spilling almost worth it.

"And then the day he found out that I would have sooner married Blaise than Pansy he hit the roof-" Draco was saying, but Harry only heard half of it.

"Blaise?" he asked, and Draco's pale face turned splotchy and red.

"I didn't say that," he said suddenly. "What's your favourite flower?"

"Lillies," Harry answered distractedly, but doggedly continued. "What about Blaise?"

"Nothing!" Those eyes were narrowing again, the expression all too familiar to Harry. It was the look he got right before he hexed someone, usually.

"I'm gay too," Harry said, stopping Draco mid-incantation. He looked firmly out the window, refusing to meet Draco's wide eyes, but when the hollow sound of a wand hitting the floor echoed around the near empty room, he turned and watched the black lacquered wand roll into the wall and bounce off softly before coming to a stop.

"That's not even remotely funny," Draco said sternly, retrieving his wand. Harry finally chanced a look at him. The red had faded from his face, but he was resolutely ignoring the Gryffindor.

"I'm not joking," Harry said, and turned around fully to watch him. Draco conjured a small green dragon made of light with his wand, and made it dance. They both watched it for a few moments, before it wafted away on a draft, leaving the two boys eyeing eachother almost nervously.

As one, they moved together and lips met lips in a crushing dance of dominance, both boys struggling to overcome the other even in this. Finally, Harry relented, and Draco took control instantly, threading his fingers through Harry's hair and pressing him into the wall. Harry moaned into his mouth as a muscled thigh worked its way between his legs and Draco took ruthless advantage of his open mouth by slipping his tongue between parted teeth and exploring. After what seemed like hours, Draco finally pulled away, breathing hard. He left Harry a boneless mess against the wall, gasping.

"You really are," he murmured, and Harry glanced up at him, straightening slowly. He still felt boneless and floaty, as though Draco had taken gravity with him when he moved away.

"Really are what? Gay? Did you doubt me?" Harry couldn't contain his laughter, much to Draco's irritation, and when Harry finally righted himself the blond was nearing the stairs.

"Where to next?" he asked, knowing he was never coming to the Owlery again.

"Well, since we've been getting along so splendidly so far, I think I'll show you something special," Harry said, smirking, and tugged Draco back into the castle by his wrist. Draco almost twisted him to catch at his hand, but stopped himself as the thought to move was traveling from his brain to his arm - sure, that was the heaviest snog-session he'd had in a while, that didn't mean he wanted to get caught wandering around Hogwarts holding hands with a Gryffindor!

Harry left him standing outside the Gryffindor common room only a few moments, and Draco didn't think anything of it when the Portrait opened and closed seemingly by itself. When something yanked sharply on his ponytail, he yelped and turned to scowl thunderously, only to find that there was no one around. "Peeves?" He called, trying not to sound nervous.

Harry whipped the invisibility cloak off. "Wrong," he said with a grin, and Draco breathed in with appreciation.

"I knew you had to have one of these," he said, fingering the soft fabric. "I knew it, but Pansy kept telling me I was insane!"

Harry laughed. "Where do you want to go? Hogsmeade? Or should we have some fun with the people still in the Great Hall?


(Do they go to Hogsmeade? Chapter 13)

(Or do the hapless students in the Great Hall become terrorized? Chapter 11)