Divided

Authors Note: I\'m in the process of finishing this story and starting another. I also started a fic requested by one of my beta\'s for a non-magic D/H fiction. So look for both of these to be coming up in the next week. Many thanks as always go out to my Beta\'s Alicia and Alexandra. This fic contains a minor shout out to one of my most faithful reviewers Emmy.



Chapter 9 Even Playing Field



Sleeping never came to me that night, as I curled up around the silvery fabric of Harry’s invisibility cloak. It smelled of him, of his natural and sweet fragrance, and I had to stop myself from rubbing my face against it like a cat would, marking it as mine. I wished that was all it took to mark Harry as my own. After what happened that night, I knew that he wanted me, but was it enough? Did he miss me as thoroughly as I missed him? Body and soul? Or did he only miss my body? Why else would he stoop to such desperate measures just to kiss me?



The kiss had been sheer bliss, mind you. I lived, breathed, and my very existence was made complete when his lips touched mine. But, if I had to lay aside my Slytherin nature, then so did he. I wanted him, but I didn’t want to be his secret slut, being stalked and watched in the dark.



I also wanted to be with Harry, not Professor Evans. I could already tell that letting him know that would be an issue. Harry didn’t want the fame that came along with his legendary name, and though I could understand that… I loved Harry. I wouldn’t be able to keep calling him James, and a time would come where I would slip up and then he would blame me for his ruin.



That blame would not rest on my shoulders. If Harry wanted to be with me, really be with me, he would be himself.



The cloak was like liquid silk in my hands, slithering across my skin like a lover’s caress. It was hard to resist just slipping it around my shoulders to go skulking around the castle… so I didn’t resist.



--



The castle held a silent appeal that I had never before noticed. I had taken several walks around the castle at night in my youth, but it was never for leisure… always for a purpose or task. I now saw how Harry could so easily break the rules, sneaking from his dorm even at the height of war.



Portraits slept unseeing all around me as I made my way through the stone corridors. The moonlight shimmering through the stained glass cast moving pictures on the ground. I felt safe beneath my – Harry’s – cloak. I could do anything, go anywhere, and no one would be the wiser.



I could even go see Harry.



Trying to push the traitorous thought from my head, I made my way to Gryffindor tower. I would not stoop to his level. I repeated those words in my head even as I broke the charm on the locks and slid into the room. The mantra rolled quietly through my mind even as I spied an unsleeping Harry, sprawled across his bed. Even as he looked up, and practically locked green eyes with my own gray.



A slow smug grin crossed Harry’s face. “Nice try, Draco, but I know you’re here.”



My footsteps stopped and my breathing slowed. He was going to catch me; I was going to lose what little upper hand I had given myself earlier that night.



Harry slipped off the bed and walked right toward me. “You triggered my alarms, Draco. Give yourself up now, and maybe I’ll be nice,” he whispered, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.



I almost fell for it, almost gave in, but I was a Malfoy after all, and we didn’t succumb to sexy raven-haired boys easily. At least… not that easily.



“Draco,” he called in a singsong voice, stepping a bit closer with every syllable he extended my name.



Still rooted to the spot, I stayed until he was almost on top of me… and then I ran.



I flung myself back through the door and the adjacent sitting room, hearing his soft chuckle behind me.



Damn that mirthful Gryffindor.



--



I skipped breakfast the next morning and spent my entire day watching the door during class and in between, waiting for Harry to pop up and the teasing to begin. It didn’t happen.



So, by the time lunch came around my nerves were shot and I wasn’t sure if I was pleased or disappointed that Harry hadn’t come to see me.



My stomach wouldn’t let me skip lunch no matter how much I wanted to, so I made my way over to the Great Hall. I couldn’t find Harry at first, but I eventually spotted him at the seventh year table, chatting with the students again.



Green eyes locked on mine the minute I saw him, and he excused himself from the young group and came to my side. He bumped his shoulder into mine, a wide grin on his stubbly face. “I missed you at breakfast this morning,” he said, right against my ear.



“Oh?” I asked, my heart thrumming at his words. “I wasn’t very hungry.”



He nodded and grinned wider. “Right. Still resting up after your late night, sneaking into private quarters?”



Pretending to be offended, I scoffed. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Professor.”



He laughed then, and the sound of it sent a shiver down my spine. “Of course, of course. I must have you mistaken for my other former Slytherin lover.”



“You must have,” I agreed, cringing slightly at the idea of it.



Continuing to smile, he spoke again, this time lower, and for my ears alone. “Unless you don’t want it to be former any longer?”



My shoes squealed on the wood floors as I skidded to an abrupt halt. “What?” I asked, not trusting myself to hear what he had just said.



The grin faltered slightly as he took in my expression. “I was just thinking… erm wondering actually… if you wanted…” his voice trailed off as I stared at him dumbfounded.



Straightening myself up, I regained my composure. “I think we should talk later, after classes.”



Harry looked a little less flustered and smiled softly. “Tonight then?” he asked and I confirmed with a curt nod.



I continued my journey up to the head table, where I was now too nervous to eat, and Harry went back to the group of seventh years. We locked eyes several times over lunch, but he slipped out of the Great Hall before I could say anything else.



The rest of my day was a quivery, sweaty blur. My hopes and dreams dangling just ahead of me like a carrot on a fishing line. I loved Harry, but what did he want from me exactly? He said the word lover, but what would that mean to him?



Would it just mean sex? Or would it mean more than that, the kind of bond I was looking for? If he did only mean sex, would I be able to cope with that… to settle for that?



I didn’t know.



--



The last class had ended fifteen minutes prior, and I was pacing in my quarters, waiting for Harry. We hadn’t exactly ironed out a specific time, but it still felt like he was late.



My voice held an edge of hysteria as I laughed at my own thoughts. Nerves.



Who knew Harry would still be able to do this to me after so many years? I remembered our first night together. I was such a ball of awkward hormones, but you never would have known it based on the look in Harry’s eyes. His beautiful green eyes held only reverence; he looked at me like I was a delicate flower, waiting to bloom under his touch.



In a way, I was.



The moment I first kissed his petal soft lips, I knew there was no other person for me. No man or woman could compete with the feeling of his lips on mine.



A sharp knock brought me out of my lurid thoughts, and I just hoped I wasn’t blushing noticeably. I walked to the door, forcing myself not to run, and opened it carefully. Harry was there, standing in my doorway, looking almost as nervous as I felt. The light from my room in contrast with the gloom of the dungeon corridor bathed his face in light, while the rest of him was almost hidden in shadow.



“Are we knocking now, as opposed to sneaking in?” I asked.



He grinned, and I melted. “I thought I would try something new,” he responded, shrugging.



I stepped aside so that he could come in. His stride was purposeful as he made his way into the sitting room and stood beside the fireplace.



“So,” I murmured, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet.



“So,” he repeated, looking anywhere but at me.



Another awkward silent moment passed between us before he laughed suddenly, jarring me from my thoughts.



“When did we revert back into seventeen year olds?” he asked, still snickering.



His laughter was joined with my own as I shrugged, walking over to stand closer to him, rather than at my post beside the door.



He sat down on the settee and patted the open seat beside him. I sat down lightly, waiting… for what I wasn’t sure.



“Listen, Draco,” he started.



“Harry, I,” I began at the same time.



More awkward laughter ensued. “You go first,” I offered.



Nodding once he continued. “I miss you,” he blurted. “I’ve missed you since the second I left, but I thought the Draco I loved was only a figment of my own imagination. It was only recently that I discovered the Draco Malfoy I fell in love with might still exist.”



I sighed, obviously relieved that it was going so well. “I love you, Harry. I screwed up so bad, but I’m willing to do anything to make it up to you. I wasn’t being honest with my father that night, I-“



A warm hand clutched mine, effectively interrupting my speech. “I know. Hermione told me.”



“So… you believe me? It can all go back to the way it was before?” I asked hopefully, silently thanking Hermione for interceding on my behalf.



He winced slightly, and I pulled back my hand. Rolling his eyes he huffed at me, pulling my hand back into his, locking our fingers together. “I swear, Draco. If this were the Olympics you could win a gold medal for jumping to conclusions,” he said, laughing lightly.



“Olympics?” I asked, utterly confused.



“Never mind,” he said, rolling his eyes once again. “I just meant… I don’t know if it will ever be the way it was. We’re both so different-“



“I’m not that different,” I interrupted.



Laughing he continued. “We are both so different… but I want to get back to that, or as close to that point as we can get. I really do.”



That was fair. At least he wanted the same as I did. I doubted it would be long before things were exactly like they had been, maybe even better, because we were older now, and wiser. And I wouldn’t make the same mistakes I did when I was seventeen.



“So what now?” I asked, hesitantly.



And then he kissed me.



--



Kissing Draco was like drinking a finely aged wine. You savored it, let the smell of it envelope you, let its taste linger on your tongue. You always wanted more, but you fought to take your time, enjoy the rich sensations it caused within your body.



I was very picky about my wine, and I was just as picky about whom I kissed, and kissing Draco was better than any spirit.



I effectively had him pinned to the couch in no time. It was a much better kiss than the night before, because the other participant was actually… participating.



His tongue melded against mine in blissful perfection. I moaned against his mouth and his body responded with a shiver. He pushed me back slightly and I got a good look at his smoldering pewter eyes before he whispered in my ear. “Are you still going to respect me in the morning?” he rasped, a smug grin on his face.



I looked at him incredulously. “Who says I respect you now?” I asked, mimicking his smugness perfectly.



After a playful shove we were kissing again.



A few moments later he was pulling back for a second time, his angelic face flushed. “Bedroom,” he rasped seductively, and all I could do was nod and follow him.



A silky shirt hit me in the face before I even made it through the door. I laughed. “Eager are we?” I asked huskily.



He smirked. “I think I’ve been waiting long enough,” he replied, grabbing for my shirt and tugging it over my head.



I fiddled with his belt buckle and he rolled his eyes in frustration, swatting my hands away and removing it himself with one deft flick of his wrist. In the same movement, he let it fly around smacking me on the bum.



“Hey,” I hollered, rubbing my stinging arse.



He laughed and unbuckled my belt next, just as swiftly. “Bed,” he said, nodding toward said furniture.



Smiling, I climbed into his oversized four-poster bed, relishing the feel of the satin sheets under my hands.



Stormy gray eyes locked on mine from a few feet away as he stepped out of his trousers and boxers, kicking them away from him. In a blur he was on top of me, tearing my own offending garments of clothing away from my body.



With a movement just as quick, I reversed our positions and had him pinned beneath me. Our forms fit together like a glove, like they were meant to be always melded. Even after all the years we spent apart, our bodies changed and grew to complement one another.



Draco’s body was familiar yet brand new under my roving fingertips. His pale legs parted for me, and with my mouth still locked onto his, I entered him.



For the first time in over ten years I made love to Draco, my Slytherin, the love of my life, and everything felt right. His body was hot and breathless under my own, his cheeks were flushed and beautiful and his mouth whispered my name like a mantra.



My own breathing was ragged as I brought us both to completion. He tightened around me as he climaxed and the world around me was lost in a sea of stars as I shuddered inside of him, shouting his name with my own orgasm.



I’m not sure how long we stayed that way, a quivering mass of frazzled nerve endings, but eventually we showered together and after a few quick cleaning spells, got back into his bed and slept soundly through to the next morning, neither one of us caring that we had missed dinner.



--



Authors Note: I\'m always up for a challenge, so if anyone has a request for a fic, let me know. ;)