Never Easy

Draco Malfoy did not walk...he strutted. Everything about the way he moved, every line of his body, positively screamed 'I am Draco Malfoy, and you have got nothing on me.' Every step was laden with self-assurance and ego.

And it absolutely ripped Harry Potter that it totally turned him on. It was, perhaps, his greatest secret, and his biggest shame. The stuck-up git would have to be gorgeous, as well as smart and talented. He loathed this! For Merlin's sake, how on earth was he supposed to eventually battle Voldemort and Malfoy (damned slimy git!) when he wanted to jump down his pants (Malfoy, NOT Voldemort).

Harry sighed and turned his attention back to his supper. Not even the lovely treacle tart in front of him seemed to lift his foul mood. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Hermione and Ron exchange a knowing look. Lifting his head, a glower smoldering on his face, he snorted as both Ron and Hermione winced and looked down to their own plates. Hermione, however, glanced back up and met Harry's gaze bravely.

"Harry, you've been really cross lately, and I know it probably has to do with what you told us about Malf-"

"Don't!" he yelped, holding up a hand, callused from years of Quidditch and chores at the Dursleys'. "When I told you lot about that, I didn't do so with the plans of talking in depth about it at every bloody turn. I'm fine, it's fine. Everything is absolutely...fine. Okay? So, let's just let it go, and talk about anything else."

Hermione Granger sat up very straight in her chair, an imaginary string seeming to hold her up so precisely, and arched an eyebrow. "Harry, I don't think this is something you're going to be able to just let go, and as your friends, we want you to know that we support you-"

She shot an angry glance at Ronald Weasley's ducked, red head, which was shaking with laughs and choking noises.

"We BOTH support you, Harry, in whatever endeavor you should choose to pursue. Even if that means helping you to eh-hem...ah...procure said endeavor."

Harry's eyes rolled back and he lifted his head towards the enchanted ceiling, which, this evening seemed to be teeming with overly bright stars, some of which occasionally broke off from the others and flew across the 'sky' in a burning streak. He shook his head, his messy, gleaming black hair falling across his forehead and neck haphazardly. He lifted his hand to run it through the 'just-got-out-of-a-lover's-arms' tresses that had troubled him his entire life. They didn't even notice the tiny dragonfly that had landed several plates away, and had hidden under a crumpled napkin.

With a quirky smile, Ron finally looked up and tried, in vain, to focus his eyes. They were filled with gleaming tears, brought about from Ron trying, most emphatically, to hold back the hysterical laughter that seemed to burst forth every time the subject of Harry Potter, his best mate, having a fancy for Draco 'the-biggest-prat-alive' Malfoy. 'What is the world coming to?' he wondered.

"Listen, mate, Hermione's right, we will definitely support whatever you do. You know that. But jeez, it would have to be the ferret, wouldn't it? Because, Harry, nothing in your life is ever simple, or easy. In a crazy way, it makes more sense than anyone else you could have chosen to ah-"

Harry gulped, and looked resolutely at the wooden table, scratching against the grain with a too-long fingernail.

"I haven't chosen to do anything. You two are jumping the gun, because if I remember correctly, and Hermione, I know you'll be sure to tell me if I don't, all I said was that I had these...ahh, *ahem* feelings, so to speak, about this particular person."

"Oh, Harry, this is so difficult, isn't it?" Hermione murmured sympathetically. She knew, as good as anyone, just how impossible the handsome, prickly blonde could be in just a normal situation.

"Yes, it bloody well is difficult!" Harry whispered in ragged breaths. "I'm the bloody Savior of the Wizarding World...The Boy Who Lived. I'm supposed to defeat the most evil dark wizard of our time, and the fact is...I'm in love with his right-hand boy." He heard Hermione's gasp, and felt Ron's eyes on him. He looked up, with no small amount of ease, and looked into his best friend's face.

"Still here with me, Ron?"

"Yeah, still here, Harry." Ron sighed, trying to choke down the fluttering mumbles that were twitching in his brain. As he'd got older, the fumbling, high-pitched yelps had gotten a bit better, but they still seemed to poke out now and again. "So...what are you going to do, mate?"

Hermione whipped her head around to Ron, glaring forcefully at him. "Oh, Ronald. Honestly, he doesn't know what he's going to do. Who would, in this circumstance?" She turned, seriously, back to Harry and laid a soft hand on his arm. "Harry, what do you want to do about this, if anything?"

Harry just shook his shaggy head, closing his bright green eyes tight, squeezing out all light and pitying looks.

"I really don't know. I wish, I dunno. I wish my dad or-" he swallowed a rough breath, "my mum, or Sirius...I just wish someone would tell me that I'm not crazy. That what I'm feeling isn't wrong."

Hermione and Ron both felt a wave of sadness for their friend. They both loved Harry; he was part of their families, and (although it happened more often than not) seeing him in pain hurt them both tremendously.

With a strangled moan, Harry pushed his plate away and plopped his head down on folded arms, in front of him. "Why, oh why, did I have to fall for the most arrogant prig on the planet? I would have rather fancied Snape than that bloody Draco Malfoy!"

So busy comforting the distraught Harry, Ron and Hermione never noticed the trembling dragonfly inch out from the napkin and fly away from the table.

**************************************

"Surely, you're joking," Draco sneered. "Potter's got himself a crush on a possible Death Eater?" He shook his head, the platinum strands gliding across his shoulders. "I'd sooner believe he wanted to shag the Dark Lord, himself."

Rita Skeeter smirked, "Actually, he said he'd rather fancy Severus Snape than this particular person."

Draco arched a brow, "Now I know you're full of it. Harry Potter would just as soon want Professor Snape's company, as he would like the plague." He grinned, nastily, at the unregistered animagus, "Now, I hired you to spy on Potter and tell me what's got him acting so strangely. If all you're going to do is hand me a bunch of crap, then I really don't see how we have anything more to talk about. Perhaps I'll just let the Dark Lord know exactly how uncooperative you're being."

He watched, with an inner smile, as the petite, frazzled haired woman shuddered with fear. He felt no need to tell her that he had no desire to be anywhere near the disgusting excuse for a wizard, Lord ('my arse') Voldemort. The maniacal bastard had threatened to kill his family, and even being in the same vicinity as the twisted freak made Draco want to vomit. The fact that Voldemort wanted Potter dead didn't endear him to Draco, either. Despite the fact that Harry Potter drove him absolutely, insanely batty with his Gryffindor platitudes, and such nonsense, Draco had wanted him since he even knew exactly what it was he was feeling. Once he'd recognized the feeling, however, some time in fourth year, he had realized that he'd been hot for the green-eyed young man since well before that. He wondered, with a wry smile, just how many unattainable goals he could set for himself, and be cheated out of...because of Harry-bloody-Potter.

"I swear to you, Mr. Malfoy, it's true. He seemed quite upset about it, and honestly, I don't really blame him, considering the source of these 'feelings' he's having." She held back a grin at the impatient scowl on the young man's stunning face. Rita leaned in quite close and whispered saucily in Draco's ear, "It seems that Harry James Potter has fallen in love with a member of Slytherin House."

Draco shot back, searching her eyes and finding them honest, and then, rolling his head around on his shoulders, his eyes looking everywhere blindly. 'In love? Slytherin?' The thought of Harry being in love with one of his housemates ripped the breath out of his chest. He felt as though someone had a hand over his heart, and was squeezing unmercifully, making it nearly impossible to draw a breath.

He forced his eyes clear, and back to the snarky reporters', "Who?" he demanded, rage causing his voice to shake.

Rita looked at the young man thoughtfully. 'Quite a reaction!' she thought, to herself. And, just that quickly, it clicked in her head. She was NOT a top reporter (formerly) for the Daily Prophet, for nothing!

"I believe it was someone you're quite close to," she said softly, watching the pale face contort and flush. "He didn't seem very thrilled about it, however, nor did his friends. They did seem to support his feelings, though. I believe he called this boy the most 'arrogant prig on the planet'."

Draco's reply caught in his throat. Boy? His wildly beating heart seemed to be taking up his entire chest. "Boy?" He repeated aloud.

Rita peered at the young man through her rectangular spectacles, and quirked her head to the side. She bit down on one side of her smirking mouth and took in the exceedingly good-looking blonde's face. He appeared shocked, and she saw something lying beneath the rage and yes-jealousy...hurt, and possibly hope. She watched as Draco pulled his emotions in, and stood up to his full (and very tall) height. Her eyes followed one of his hands as it moved down to his forearm, hidden underneath the dark robes, a deliberate draw for her watching eyes.

He arched a brow imperiously, and caught her gaze with his own, sneering. "You will find out who this bloke is, and you will tell me immediately!"

"You presume, Mr. Malfoy, that I came to this meeting unimpeded by this knowledge. In fact, had you paid more attention...had your emotions *ahem* not been riled, for whatever reason, you would have realized that already."

He grasped her arms, his hands shaking, "Tell me, woman! I have paid you well enough, and gods know you needed the money." He muttered this with a deliberate glance down at her ratty shoes. Time and unemployment had NOT been kind.

His hands seemed to close in slightly, and he watched with disgust as she seemed to disappear, and was enraged as he saw the small insect fly away. He was almost certain he heard laughter from the blasted thing. Shaking his head, he turned away, toward where the dungeons housed the Slytherin rooms and stomped angrily towards them.

*****************************

Draco watched Harry the next day in Potions. Those disturbingly, distractingly beautiful green eyes seemed a bit glazed, and it was easy enough to spot that Harry was thinking elsewhere. Professor Snape noticed, as well, and strode over to the impossibly sexy Seeker, muttering under his breath.

"Potter! If you want to waste my class time while you sit here and daydream, then you will most certainly meet with an appropriate punishment." Draco watched Harry sigh and lean back in the chair, arms crossed rebelliously over his chest.

"Yes, sir." Harry said clearly, his voice dripping with venom.

Snape smirked, "So like your father, you are. Arrogant and full of incredible conceit."

Oooh. Draco sucked in a breath as Harry's eyes flashed furiously. An angry Harry Potter was incredible to see...one of the reasons Draco never really minded getting Harry riled up, and the angrier the better. Passion was passion, and at this point, he was taking what he could get. Especially now...now that Potter had some bloody Slytherin bloke he was lusting after. He gazed around his side of the room, eyeing all of his male housemates. His eyes skipped over Crabbe and Goyle. They were just too boring and dull to even consider. He continued to look around until he heard Snape's voice slow down, a sure sign he was getting to the point of his angry rant.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention tonight. However, since you saw fit to waste my time in class, I see no reason to squander any more of it in your detention. One of my house will take care of babysitting you tonight, Potter." Snape spat out, his voice oozing with disdain.

He watched Potter's eyes flick over to him, and look down quickly in surprise when he saw Draco looking back at him.

"Mr. Malfoy-" and Draco's heart flitted a bit, much to his consternation. "I would choose you, usually, however past incidents with Potter would lead me to believe another choice would perhaps be less destructive. Mr. Zabini! You will see to Potter's detention tonight."

Draco wasn't sure what he was more disgusted by...the look of relief on Harry's face, or the hungry, satisfied look on Blaise's.

***********************************

Harry walked into the Potions room apprehensively. It was empty, but then he was a few minutes early. He sighed heavily and walked over to his usual table and sat down, resting his chin on his hands. Harry glanced over at Draco's seat and closed his eyes.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered softly, aloud. "How many bloody times has that sodding git humiliated me? Got me in to trouble? Hurt myself or Ron, or Hermione. What the hell is wrong with me?" He never noticed the door swing open.

Blaise Zabini and Draco came and stood in front of Harry, exchanging a grin. "Well, well, Draco. Look what we have here."

Harry's face shot up, his black hair falling chaotically around his face.

"What is he doing here?" Harry jutted his chin towards Malfoy, and rolled his eyes as Draco snapped his teeth together in a mock bite towards Harry's chin.

"Just keeping me company, Potter." Zabini said in a low tone, looking at Harry in a wholly unseemly way. "Unless of course, you'd like to join in. I've no problem with a threesome."

Shock. Pure and utter shock crossed the Golden Boy's face. All the color drained away, leaving those spectacular eyes overly bright, and turned towards Draco's face.

Draco watched, both in surprise and dawning realization, as Harry's eyes met his, and then fell away. His beautiful face flooded with an adorable blush, and Draco's chest tightened, along with his pants.

"Get real, Zabini." Harry muttered, his voice harsh and scratched.

"Oh ho!" Zabini chortled, walking around Harry and stopping behind him. Both Slytherins noticed the immediate stiffening of Harry's spine. He looked tense, and ready to fight. "Relax, Potter. We're not here for a gang bang, I just thought you might feel like trying something new."

Harry stood up and walked to the side a few feet, turning and leaning against the wall. He cocked his head to the side, and appraised Blaise.

"Well, if I did, Zabini, there's no chance it would ever be with you."

Rage crossed Blaise's handsome face and he stalked forward, stopping mere inches from Harry's face. "And why, exactly, is that, Potter? Don't think you can handle a real man, do you?"

Draco felt a shudder run through him as Harry's eyes ran slowly up and down Blaise, stopping at his face. A sultry, silky smooth look seemed to slide over his face, and he moved forward until his lips were a mere breath away from Blaise's.

"I've yet to see a real man here, Zabini." Smiling, Harry moved back against the wall, his face smug.

Blaise was shaking, his face dark with lust and resentment. He snarled and turned away, striding towards the door and yanking it open. He stormed out, yelling at Draco, "Watch him for me, will you, Draco? The sight of him makes me ill."

Draco watched as Harry shook his head, laughing quietly.

"Slytherins are sore losers, aren't you, Malfoy?" He murmured, chuckling.

The blonde walked slowly over to Harry, cocking his head from side to side, until he had Harry's full attention.

"I suppose. It's a wonder, then, Potter, why you're so taken with one of them."

Harry tried to move back, forgetting he was already against the wall, and banged his head against the stone. He winced, and tried to move his eyes away from Malfoy's, but it seemed impossible to look away.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy, you crazy git."

Draco could see hundreds of emotions rage behind those eyes, and narrowed his own silvery eyes in turn. "Now, somehow, I don't believe you. I happen to have it on quite good authority that you've developed somewhat of a crush on 'the most arrogant prig on the planet'." And then Draco saw something he didn't think he'd ever seen on Harry's face before...fear.

His voice was trembling, "How utterly absurd."

Draco tried a joke, his body clenching in pain at the (surely) coming denial. "It couldn't be me now, could it, Potter?" He attempted a grin, and it came out more as a sneer. His face was not cooperating, but then neither was the rest of him. Bless the robes, for they concealed a potentially embarrassing show of Draco's true feelings.

Harry wrenched himself away from the wall and stalked the short distance over to Draco, his chest heaving with shaky breaths, nearly brushing Draco's in the sheer violence of each gasping intake of air. "You wish."

Grasp the opportunity, he heard his mind screaming at him. Now or perhaps never, and he grabbed the front of Harry's robes and crushed his mouth down on Harry's, keeping his eyes open to drink in every single reaction. He just knew that any second now, Harry was going to push him away and proceed to fight him to the death.

And was quite stunned when he felt Harry's hands wrench into his hair and hold his face there, while his tongue slipped into Draco's mouth.

Gods! Draco thought, and swallowed a moan that escaped from Harry's delicious mouth. It was better than he'd ever imagined, and he could barely think, only feel. He didn't even know how, just felt gratitude as his hands roamed over Harry's back. The gold skin there was fever hot, and so damn smooth. Those questing hands slid down the lower back to that lovely dip right at the waistband of his pants. Draco's brain nearly exploded, along with the rest of his aching body, as Harry arched, rubbing his own erection against Draco's.

Suddenly, Harry pushed him back, breathing erratically. Draco's breathing was no easier, and his eyes looked like liquid silver gleaming around enormous pupils.

"Why'd you stop?" Draco managed to grate out, his hands itching to be back on the insufferably appealing Gryffindor. He could still taste Harry, strong and darkly sweet, throughout his entire mouth. It was intoxicating and astonishingly perfect. He didn't think he could ever get enough of it.

"Are you kidding me?!" Harry threw back, head dropping back at Draco's almost imperceptible shake of his gorgeous blonde head. He tossed his arms up, letting them drop back down at his sides. "You HATE me, Draco."

He had said his name. His real name. The sound of that, coming from Harry Potter's amazingly talented lips, was a wet dream in, and of, itself.

"Hate is a really strong word, Harry." He said, smiling widely when Harry flinched.

"Oh Draco doesn't hate you, Potter. You'd have to be somewhat important to qualify for an emotion of that size. And everyone knows...you're just not." Both boys' eyes flew to where Blaise was standing at the doorway. And Draco watched, with anger towards Blaise and a sad sort of apology, as Harry closed his eyes, his mouth twitching. It was only then that he saw, with abject terror, a single tear start to roll down from those stunning emerald eyes. Harry raised his hands, and pretended to rub his eyes, as though he were horribly tired.

Glaring at both of them, Harry straightened his robes and walked briskly from the room, waiting until he got outside the wing to break out into a full-out run. He managed to get to the lavatory before he broke out into harsh sobs.

**********************************

Harry ended up falling asleep on one of the chairs, by the fireplace, in the Gryffindor common room. His entire body was stiff from the odd position he'd been curled into, and his brain was addled with uncomfortable dreams that were riddled with silky, pale hair, knowing smirks, and miles of delicious skin.

He yawned and rubbed his hands against his sore, reddened eyes. The room was empty, a sure sign that everyone was already at class. 'Ron must have persuaded Hermione to let me sleep in.' he thought gratefully, shaking his head to attempt to clear it a bit. Groping around for his glasses on the table next to the chair, he fumbled a bit and knocked over a glass. He had just found his glasses, and was slipping them on when he heard the indignant squawk. Hedwig, his much-loved Snowy owl, flew up onto the table from the floor, briskly shaking her wings to toss off water droplets. Harry uttered a soft apology to the owl, and was rewarded with a soft nip at his shoulder. Hedwig hooted and cooed a bit as she shook her left leg, which was tied to a ivory parchment. Leaning over, Harry untied the parchment and sat back to read the missive.

Harry,
Things last night were left unfinished. Perhaps we can both deal with leaving things as they are...however, I feel that further exploration might be in order. Should you agree with me, I would ask that you refrain from joining your friends in Hogsmead tomorrow, and instead meet me at 11 o'clock at the Room of Requirement. Politics, obviously, will be left at the door. I will wait for exactly one hour, but no longer. If you do not come, I will consider the matter closed.
Sincerely,
D

Harry managed to read through the letter four more times before his hands stopped jerking. The door to the common room was thrown back, and Harry moved swiftly to hide the letter in his pocket.

Ron, Hermione, and Neville Longbottom walked in, chatting easily. Hermione was gesturing wildly with her hands, and tossing back her hair imperiously...a clear imitation of Pansy Parkinson. Ron's loud guffaws, and Neville's sniffling snorts, warmed Harry's heart, and he smiled in welcome.

"Hey, you lot, what's with all the cheer?"

The three paused, and turned to Harry, grinning.

Hermione took a deep breath dramatically, "Well, Harry, we thought we'd do you a bit of a favor and let you sleep in...you looked absolutely awful this morning, and anyway...enough of that, it certainly won't happen again! Classes are much too important, Harry, for you-"

"Hermione!" Ron interjected, snickering.

"Right, right, of course," Hermione huffed and pushed her hair out of the way, impatiently, "well, you certainly missed out on quite a show. I've never quite seen anything like it. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini were spitting at each other like vipers, just snapping back and forth at each other over Merlin only knows what. And they're just about to pull out wands, and-"

"Th-that's when Dumbledore stood up!" Neville interjected excitedly.

"Yes, yes. Right, but before Dumbledore could even get over to the table, Pansy Parkinson stands up and bursts into tears! It was just unbelievable. I didn't know she even had tear ducts, honestly!"

Ron snorted and took over the tale, meeting Harry's shocked look. "Anyway, Pansy manages to calm herself a bit, and then turns and starts walking out of the hall; Zabini and the ferret going on after her, when she turns and screams at both of them. It was just...amazing." Ron said with a chuckle.

Hermione elbowed Ron sharply and sat down in the chair opposite Harry. "Yes, amazing, Ronald. Good grief. That isn't what's of import here. What matters is what she yelled." She looked at Harry, and smiled softly. "She yelled 'What a complete waste, the two of you! Fighting over last night's utter nonsense! It isn't as if either one of you could ever have him anyway!'. Now, I know Ron and I were already down when you came up after your detention last night, Harry, but is there anything you might feel like passing along to us?"

Harry watched, amused, as his good friends stared at him intensely. Neville seemed a bit sympathetic, at least, and gave him a two-fingered salute before moving along towards the sleeping chambers. He stood up and ran his fingers through his perpetually messy hair.

"Oh, good gods. All right, we kissed, then."

Hermione gasped, and hold steady to Ron's arm as he swayed perilously, next to her chair. "All of you?!"

Harry groaned, and buried his reddened face in his hands. "NO!"

"Y-you and M-M-Malfoy, then?" Ron stuttered, trying his best to conceal the disgusted wonder (and failing miserably).

Merely nodding to his friends, he never noticed the note fall out of his pocket to the floor. Ron leaned forward, and picked it up. He held it towards Harry and cleared his throat.

When he looked up, he grasped the paper immediately, his face darkening even more, and spreading down his neck.

"Is that from him, then, Harry?" Hermione questioned. And he looked up, met her soft, brown eyes, and nodded. He handed the note to her, trusting both of his friends implicitly, and held his breath as he watched them read the letter.

"I don't know what to do. The fact is, he mentions in there that politics will be 'left at the door'. But, it's a problem for me now more than before. Because that note, that comment, reminded me of something that I seem to have been purposefully repressing. What I feel for Draco is unlike anything I've ever known, but how can I, in good conscience, pursue this when I know that one day I will have to face him...possibly battle him. There's already so much that can go wrong between now and then, and this would just complicate everything further. I can't afford that, no one can. And I know this, with all of myself; but what I feel clutches at me...it won't let go of this pull on my soul. What am I to do? Let go of this? When that damned bastard, Voldemort, and his bloody minions have already taken away so much. Why am I expected to be without? For how long? Am I supposed to live my entire life alone? And, if I am, why on earth would the fates find it appropriate to have me fall in love, and with someone so far from my touch? I just...am at a loss." Harry sucked in a breath, and waited for his friends to respond.

Ron didn't make his best mate wait for long. He walked over to Harry and grinned at him, "You shouldn't have to be without."

Hermione nodded and joined them both, grasping Harry's hand, and Ron's. "He's right. You deserve love and happiness, Harry. And I'm not discounting, nor disagreeing, with your responsibilities. But, you shouldn't be without...especially not you. It's love, the love inside of you, that is your greatest strength. Dumbledore, himself, has told you that."

"We're not saying you should trust the git straight away-"

"Right, right. But, there are ways, certainly, of finding out his honest feelings for you. And should he try to pull anything-"

"Yes, should he, we could, and will, be waiting to help. If you really are going to try for this, mate."

Harry stared in amazement at his friends. The pain of not having a family who loved him lessened around them. For he knew that these two would always love him, unconditionally, and he grinned shakily. 'What the hell.'

***********************************

The coins were making clanking noises in his pocket as they banged around the little box in his pocket, which contained a portkey that went straight to The Burrow (the Weasley family home) "in case of dire emergency," Hermione had said upon handing the fragile-looking enamel box to Harry that morning before her and Ron set off for the village of Hogsmead.

He was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, cut to fit him (the first he'd ever owned), and a lovely dark green shirt, tucked in and all. He'd not been able to find a way to tame his hair, but all in all, he felt he looked passable. Shuffling his feet nervously, he stopped in front of the Room of Requirements. It was already ten after 11, and he saw, apprehensively that the door was already there, merely waiting for his hand to turn the knob. The sigh he drew was long and heavy, and not a little shaky.

'Where's that Gryffindor courage now?' he murmured to himself, in his head, and forced his hand to turn the knob and push open the door. His head whipped around the room as he stepped inside, not even noticing the door slam shut and disappear. The entire room was sunny and bright, the majority of the light emanating from a large skylight located directly over the...bed. Harry swallowed hard as he shuffled over to the bed, running his hand over the soft, shimmery coverlet. The whole bed seemed to be covered in shiny, kaleidoscope material that shimmered between a deep green and a sapphire blue. It would be, surely, like laying in the ocean's depths.

Draco sat in the chair nearest the tiny table, set up at the opposite end of the room, laden with a splendid lunch, and watched the dark, lovely man run his hand over a glossy pillow. A shiver coursed through him as Harry's tanned hand glided across the bedding. He coughed gently, his breath catching as Harry turned, quickly, and made his way across the room towards Draco, a bewildered smile gracing his amazing face.

"I got your note."

Draco cocked his head, a smirk playing on his lips, teasing, "I figured as much."

Shaking his head, feeling absurd, Harry sighed, "I'm not sure why I came..."

"Aren't you?" Draco said harshly. "Really? I know why I came."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "And why is that, Draco?" He asked in confusion as Draco shivered.

"I came for the same reason I trembled just now when you said my name: I want you, Potter."

It was Harry's turn to quiver, and he did so in abundance. The feelings were overwhelming him. He tried for flippant. "Want? How trivial. Mere want is not something I can afford in great supply, Malfoy." He turned to look away for a moment, his heart banging furiously in his chest.

Draco saw Harry turn away, and jumped up, worried. "Don't go." He saw Harry's shoulders stiffen, and moved closer, running his pristine hands over the Gryffindor's solid shoulders. "I feel more than want, Harry."

All of that shining black hair spilled away from his face as he tilted his head to better look Draco in the eyes, and what he saw there robbed him of all breath and sanity.

The blonde Slytherin hesitated only a moment before descending to brush his lips against that magnificent, slightly opened mouth. Turning Harry in his arms, he wrapped an arm around his trim waist, pulling him close. Their bodies slid against each other, throbbing in unison, as their mouth mimicked the sex play their bodies were aching for. The taste, so much more than even the memory, was assaulting his senses as Draco dove deeper and deeper, seeking out every inch of Harry's mouth. The more he tasted, the more he wanted, and his hands flew to Harry's shirt and fisted in it until it dissolved off of Harry's lean body with a wisp of air.

"What-?"

Draco chuckled, "I required you to be shirtless." The look on Harry's face was priceless, and he knew he would keep that mental picture in his head for all of time, a heady mixture of surprise and pleasure.

"Really." Harry whispered, and he looked up towards the ceiling, his face quiet in thought. Draco watched, unconcerned, as Harry's face took on a pleased smirk. He wondered, for a moment, until his own shirt disappeared. "That's handy."

Their chests brushed up against one another, and they both moaned into a searing kiss.

Harry whimpered as he felt Draco's hand run down his spine, to splay intimately on the curve of his arse. Voldemort could walk in right now...hell the entire staff of Hogwarts could walk in, and Harry wouldn't give a damn. This felt better, more natural and more colossal, than anything in his life ever had. Arousal was in his veins, bleeding through his whole body. He was trembling with nervous excitement, and the ravenous look in Draco's eyes was burning through him. His hands seemed possessed, tweaking and brushing. He couldn't stop touching all of that satin-smooth skin, so pale and warm. Oh, and that body...Draco's body was hard, and cut in a beautiful display of strength and pure sex. The way his body worked with every movement only made Harry burn hotter, leaning down to nip at Draco's jaw, leaving a wet trail as he slid his tongue down the blonde's throat.

Draco arched his neck, pushing his flesh into Harry's mouth, loving the feel of those reddened lips...those sharp, white teeth, kissing and nibbling their way down to his chest. He was unable to prevent a husky groan from flying from his lips, and he felt the hard shake that rippled beneath Harry's skin. Moving his head down, and brushing his pale platinum hair across the brunette's shoulder, he attacked, tasted...feasted upon Harry's gilded skin. The light was playing on his skin, caressing it.

The quaking blonde pulled back and lifted his hands up to Harry's face, his fingertips tangling in the wild black hair. Gently, he lifted Harry's face to look into. Those astoundingly brilliant green eyes were dilated and shining, and as the green locked with the silver he felt the adorable Golden Boy sway on his feet. Draco grinned and wrapped his arms tightly around the young man's waist, holding him upright and safe. With Draco leading, they both began shuffling, in between kisses and nibbles, towards the bed.

Harry felt his knees start to give, and was pushed back gently until he fell onto his back, on the bed. A breath whooshed out of him in a gasp, which was promptly swallowed by the sexy blonde in front of him. He scooted backwards, panting lightly, as Draco crawled onto the bed and proceded move closer to him on his hands and knees. Harry felt the glossy pillows beneath his head, and settled back onto them. Draco moved over him, until he was looking directly down into the Gryffindor's face. Harry only had a moment's notice (due in large to the naughty smirk that took over Draco's luscious mouth) before he felt cool air hit his legs and groin. He couldn't risk a smirk of his own.

"You required that my trousers take a leave, then, did you?"

Draco chuckled, "Absolutely. I require quite a bit, actually, Harry."

Harry felt bare legs slide against his own, and tried to bite back a loud moan. He only bit down harder as he felt the blonde's aroused length brush against his own.

Draco saw the droplet of blood well up on Harry's sinful-thought-inducing mouth. His shining head descended until he could lap away the drop. Harry's mouth opened like a dream, and he attacked it thoroughly.

"Gods, Harry, you have the most amazing flavor."

"When you say things like that...oh my-"

The sleek Slytherin tumbled head-first, from attraction, lust, painful longing, into the throes of pure love. He knew, without a doubt, that he would never again feel anything this perfect, this right. His soul felt as thought it had settled the final puzzle piece it had been searching for. Being in love with Harry Potter had been something he'd known, and accepted, for a long time now, but this...this was something so much more. He knew that he could be truly happy, finally, with this man. As they moved together, limbs tangling, mouths gasping and tasting, Draco knew at once what was starting. And, he did not hesitate, his hands sliding towards Harry's enterance. His fingers, immediately, were dripping with a warm, silky substance, and with a look into Harry's smiling, glazed eyes, his slid them into him, one at a time.

It was horribly, wonderfully slow and torturous, and Harry was relishing every moment. His hand flew up and around Draco's back, rubbing and molding to the shifting muscles there. He whimpered softly as he felt the blonde's hand move away, until he felt the hand replaced with that hard, throbbing flesh. Draco lifted his legs until they were pressed up against his chest, and Harry moved easily, every muscle languid with intense, undescribable passion. The heat of it was flooding through him, and as Draco lifted his hips and thrust into Harry, his whimpered cries amassed into gasping yelps and sighs.

"Draco, love, my gods, I'd do anything" choking gasp "absolutely anything to keep you here like this forever." He felt his brain swirling around in his head, as though it were brilliant memories in a Pensieve.

Beginning to move, Draco devoured the words Harry was searing into his heart. He found that delightful spot quickly, and began to pound into the beautiful young god beneath him. His hand slid down to wrap around Harry's dripping member, and he began to pump in time with his thrusts. Draco hissed in a laughing breath as he felt Harry's hands scratch their way down his back. He found that it was not pain he felt, but complete pleasure. He watched, in fascination, as Harry froze, his eyes open and shocked, and then screamed his release. Draco felt the pulsing start around him, and he came instantly, his eyes squeezing shut against his will. The sight of Harry in orgasm was a vision, a glorious, stunningly beautiful thing that nothing could ever compare to.

Both of the young mens' eyes snapped open, and onto one another's, as the felt and saw a luminous glow surround and move into them. They both knew, right away, that an eternal soul-bond had been established.

Draco smiled, unconcerned. This was perfect, as far as he was concerned. It felt totally right to have a bond to confirm the unbelievable love that he now knew was completely and unequivocally returned. He noticed, suddenly, the silence in the room, save for ragged breaths.

"Harry?"

Harry shut his eyes, fear coiling in his belly. The love was coursing through him, filling every single part of him, and he knew that Draco felt the same way. But the danger shook him; he was permanently bonded with a man who was aligned with his greatest enemy. 'Now, how on earth am I supposed to deal with this?'

It seemed as though the lithe blonde could sense his thoughts, "Oh, Harry. You can't possibly be thinking of the war and all that mess right now? What we just experienced was the most wonderful, fulfilling moment of my entire existance. And I know you felt every bloody bit of that."

"I did. I couldn't deny that, even if I wanted to...which, honestly, I don't. But how can I help but be concerned? You've put yourself on a side that wants me dead, and yes, I know we said no politics in here. But, Draco, things have changed immensely now. We cannot, surely, remain enemies, and I'm afraid I am quite aligned with my choices and responsibilities."

"I understand your worries, Harry, but the simple fact is that I have never held any love for Volde- well, good grief, you know who I mean. I followed my father, at first. I'd been taught to all of my life. But I've never wanted you dead. Once I was in the belly of the beast, I was awful to you, worse than. I know that, just as I know that a mere apology can't cover it. I fully intend on spending the rest of my life showing you how much I really do love you, and I intend to do this at your side." He lifted a pale hand to Harry's face and brushed away a tear that was sliding down his cheek, towards his ear.

"You really mean that, Draco?"

"I do."

Harry felt an enormous smile cross his face, one that did not falter as his first 'and hopefully last" lover smirked, and failed to conceal a chuckle laden with mirth.

"Care to earn a penny?" Harry teased.

"Trying to buy my thoughts, Mr. Potter?" Draco shot back, "Well, it just so happens that I think you have a way of rewarding me for sharing them, with your delectable body, and your delightfully crafty mouth."

A pair of black brows shot up beneath the fringe of messy hair, "Ah...so you only want me for my body, and it's apparent talents, then?"

"Oh yes, Harry, your body, most assuredly; but your mind...you astonish me constantly. Your vigilantly shy nature, even though, as of yet, you have failed to be unworthy of every compliment. You've never been far from my mind, Harry. Never. Oh, and how astounding is that smile on your lovely face?" He reached out with a finger and lovingly traced Harry's lips, which placed a sweet kiss on Draco's gentle touch. "So endearing and happy. How I've longed to have it directed my way, just once."

The brunette sighed, "Well, if it makes you feel a bit better, you should know that you've been the cause of a great deal of them. I think I'm entitled to say, I think, that I didn't really have cause to believe anything resembling affection would be well received, or most certainly, not returned."

Draco shuddered harshly, looking at a spot past Harry's shoulder, before slowly, slowly raising to meet the shining green eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. I truly am, but not even Dumbledore could turn back time for me to rectify so many years of me being an arbitrary bloody bastard."

Harry choked, "You might be surprised, love."

A sleek, elegant eyebrow raised, and the blonde's mouth moved into a brilliant smile. It absolutely transformed him into a gorgeous, perfect, nearly angelic picture.

"Perhaps. You called me-"

"Love...yes, I did."

Draco looked rather confused, "Why? I honestly can't understand. I've done things that are unforgiveable..."

"No. Not unforgiveable, Draco. Did you not notice? I'm quite in love with you. You were right, what you said to me, not so very long ago. We were children before, and now we are men. And I'd much rather get through everything that's coming, and happier times afterwards, with you...standing alone, resenting the past, will get me nothing but anguish, and weakness. And my greatest weapon, my strongest protection, is love. It always has been." Harry reached up and brushed his hair away with one hand as he also grasped Draco's hand, bringing it up to his scar. He let his hair fall back, and slid the hand, covered with his own, down to his heart. "This love between us, knowing that I'm not alone in anything now...Draco, surely I'll be virtually invincible."

"What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?" The stunned Slytherin asked, awe and relief apparent on his normally unreadable face.

"Sodding hell, if I know." Harry joked. And was then attacked by fierce, passionate kisses. "Ahh," Harry ground out, "a bloke's not going to get a lot of rest around here, is he?"

"Absolutely none."

******************************************************

"Holy hell!"

Hermione turned in the direction of Ron's concerned, slightly amazed stare. She spotted Harry instantly, and the goofy grin that seemed to be branded onto her dear friend's face. 'Goodness! He's walking like he's got a tickling draft in his shoes!'

As he walked past the gobsmacked duo, he gave a jaunty wave before continuing onwards towards the sleeping area.

She stared after him for a moment, the implications smacking her swiftly, and moved her gaze to meet her ginger-haired companion's.

"You know what this means, Ronald." She whispered, her face paling.

Ron nodded, his eyes worried, "I- yes, I suppose I do. But I also know our boy, there. Harry wouldn't have let this happen unless he felt that it was all right. Yeah?"

Hermione thought, chewing on her lower lip, "Yes, I believe that, as well. Harry would never deliberately do anything that could potentially cause harm." She paused, sighing, "But, Ronald, love can blind you, it had cost people their minds, their homes...I can't help but worry."

"I'm not saying I'm not worried, 'Mione. In fact, I had an idea. One that would possibly secure Harry's happiness, and ease our concerns."

She grinned, her face lighting up mischieveously, "What, exactly, did you have in mind?"

"Well," he mused, his smile belying his easy manner, "it involved Mr. Wonderful there, some butterbeer, and a bit of Veritaserum."

Hermione raised a delicate hand, tapping on her head, "That's quite a plan, Ronald." She stood up, and walked over to Ron. Leaning down, she placed a kiss on his cheek, "I'm off to bed, then. I'm going to need my sleep if I'm to be brewing Veritaserum tomorrow morning."

Watching her walk off to the girls' dormitories, Ron touched his cheek, a warmth spreading through him, leaving his brain quite sloppy.

"Yes, tomorrow..."

************************************************

Draco entered the Slytherin dungeon's dark, auspicious version of the 'common room'. He rolled his eyes as Crabbe and Goyle stalked over to him to separate and freeze into protective statues at left and right sides. Nodding in welcome to them, for despite their ineptitude, they were quite good and loyal friends.

"Well, well, Draco. It certainly is a bit of a late get-in for you, isn't it?"

The tall, blonde man turned smoothly towards the voice, a icy glare on his face. "Yes, it is, and I'm quite sure that my evening proclivities are none of your concern, Blaise."

Blaise Zabini stood up, pushing his curly, dark hair back from his face. "You were with him, I suppose, then." He muttered with a sneer.

"Jealous?"

"Don't be absurd, Draco. Besides, I think perhaps it's a good thing on both our accounts. You'll have your shag or two, teach the poncy git a bit about the ways to best pleasure one's lover, and then I'll try out the results." When he saw the blonde's eyes flare dangerously, he hid a grin, and continued, licking his lips, "Surely, that wouldn't be a problem for you. After all, we all know Harry Potter would never want more than a one-time thing with either of us. We're not up to the Gryffindor morality standard."

"You don't know a sodding thing, you filth." Draco spat out. "I have no care what you, or anyone else, for that matter, says about this. Harry Potter is mine and you will not interfere. Should you try, the consequences would be quite disturbing." He paused, a viscious smile settled on his sensual lips, "Stay away from my mate, Blaise."

"Mate?!" Blaise shook his head, gleeful laughter escaping between his fingers, "Oh, Draco, you sentimental fool. You've bonded with the Dark Lord's favorite threat. You've signed your own death warrant now, you have. Do you really think the Golden Boy's sidekicks will protect you? Or, perhaps, the illustrious headmaster? You're kidding yourself. You'll be alone, and hunted."

"Not alone." Crabbe mumbled angrily.

"Yeah, he's got us." Goyle chimed in, speaking lengthily (for him).

Draco inclined his head, gratefully, bestowing a pleased nod to both of them.

"Fat lot of good they'll do you." Blaise chuckled, enjoying himself.

The silver-eyed man stared away, at nothing in particular, his mind producing lovely, still-fresh, memories. "You are jealous. Quite a lot, actually. I know you're not suffering from some secret infatuation for me. So...you must be lusting after something which is intangible to the likes of you. Or, is it perhaps, envy over the fact that Harry and I have found something you could never hope to conceive of? You're not the deepest wanker I've ever met, however, so I'm fairly certain you're wishing it had been you, instead of me, tasting every luscious inch of that perfectly fabulous golden body."

Blaise sat back down, his back angled away from Draco. His body was stiff with arousal and utter rage. And jealousy, oh yes, plenty of that.

Draco sniffed haughtily, and walked away to his private room. "How pathetic." He called softly, over his shoulder before shutting his door.

Goyle huffed, "Well."

"Yup. We're going to have to-"

"Stand here all night."

"Yup. That Blaise-"

"Quite right. He sure would."

Goyle nodded at Crabbe's serious bulldog-set stare. The both scooted chairs as close as possible to Draco's door, protecting it. They settled into the high-backed chairs as comfortably as could be, and looked at Blaise. He stood up, fuming, and stomped to his room, muttering darkly under his breath. Goyle scratched his head, and turned his eyes to Crabbe.

"Exploding Snap?"

"Sure, why not."

******************************************

Tossing and turning had not been at the top of Draco's wish list, but there it was...taking up his entire night. It was as though he couldn't get his brain to just shut up for long enough for him to slip into sleep. He desperately wanted to see Harry, to touch him, to make sure that he still felt the same way as he had earlier. The thought of Harry deciding that Draco Malfoy wasn't quite worth a shot, after all, burned in his chest, his gut. The longer they were apart, the worse it became. It wasn't long before he was covering his mouth, and screaming painfully into a pillow.

Crabbe and Goyle knocked overly loud, both of them banging away.

"Draco?"

"Is there anything we can get for you?"

Draco groaned loudly. "Not unless you can produce Harry Potter naked, and in my chamber." He snapped.

He heard a shuffling, and some loud grunts, and then one set of footfalls going swiftly away from his door.

"Who's there?"

"It's Vincent."

"And where exactly did he go off to?"

"Well, we flipped, and he's going to go get Potter."

"Get him?! Flipped!"

"Yeah," and a grumpy snort, "I've got to strip him."

Draco shot up in his bed, and sprinted for the door, muttering the words to dismiss the wards protecting him. He yanked the door open, staring at the empty chair.

"Bloody hell."

*********************************************

Not yet asleep, Harry was staring up at the canopy of his bed, grinning like a loon, when he heard a tentative knock.

"Yes?"

"Harry, I-I hope I didn't w-w-wake you."

"No, Neville, it's all right. What is it? Is everything all right?" Harry asked with concern, swinging his legs around to dangle off the side of the bed.

"F-fine, Harry. It's just that you have a v-v-visitor at the Fat Lady's Portrait, and he's not leaving until he sp-speaks with you."

Harry felt the grin slide back onto his face. It must be Draco, he mused, and sauntered to the door, opening it and very nearly skipping past Neville. Crossing the common room, to the portrait, he ignored the shocked looks, forgetting he was wearing only a pair of gold, silk boxers. Opening the portrait, he stepped out, looking around in confusion at the dark,empty hall. He felt a hard thunk to the back of his head, and before he lost consiousness, he saw one of Draco's perpetual bodyguards standing over him, looking apologetic.

When he woke, at last, it was slowly, as though he was swimming to the surface of a dark lake. He felt a familiar hand sliding up and down his torso, tickling him, and he laughed half-heartedly, and forced his eyes open.

"Draco, how did you get in my room? Not that I'm complaining, or anything, but-"

The blonde Slytherin's husky laugh drew his full attention, and he raised his head enough to notice his surroundings. He crooked an eyebrow, settling his head back down.

"How on earth did I wind up in the dungeons?" Shaking his head, trying to straighten his thoughts, he saw a flash of memory and gasped, "Your goon! Goyle, isn't it? He hit me over the head!"

Draco could not hold back a full-out roar at this, "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I'm afraid that Crabbe and Goyle are not the sharpest tacks in the box. They asked me if there was anything I wanted, and I made the mistake of answering honestly."

Relaxing a bit now, Harry pasted a mock-stern look upon his face, "And what was it, exactly, that you wanted, Draco?"

"You. Naked. In my bed."

Harry chuckled, until he looked down and saw his boxers were missing. "Shite! Those bloody apes stripped me?!"

Having to grab ahold of his bed post to keep from laughing himself right off the bed, and onto the floor, Draco shook his head. "Don't worry, love. I stopped them before that."

Harry looked relieved for a moment, before a sly, knowing look graced his handsome features. "Then where are my-"

"These?" Draco asked, holding up the gold boxers with a long, slender finger. He rubbed the material softly between his fingers, "Very nice, Mr. Potter. I must admit, I rather enjoyed taking them off of you...with my teeth." The two men smiled at each other before they leaned toward each other, mouths meeting with a searing heat. The heat of Draco's bared chest felt like perfection, and he flattened a hand against the small of the blonde's back, pressing him as close as possible.

They jumped a bit, startled, as they heard a loud commosion outside the door.

"Alohomora!" The door burst open, Ron and Hermione busting in, wands at the ready, with Neville, and Seamus Finnigan behind them.

"Don't worry, Harry! We've come to rescue....You. Oh dear." Hermione's face turned brilliant red as she turned around and walked directly out the door.

Seamus smirked and held up a thumbs-up sign as he left the room, tugging on poor, stunned Neville's elbow.

Ron stood there, his eyebrows very nearly disappearing right off of his forehead. "My eyes. My bloody eyes. I don't think I'll ever see properly again. Good Lord. So sorry, Harry. I'll just be going now." He seemed quite unable to move, however, and merely squeezed his eyes shut. "Hermione?" he called, "I can't seem to walk...or move...or possibly breathe."

Draco and Harry exchanged an amused look, and Harry started to say something, as Draco shushed him with a kiss, drawing a sheet over his lower body with one hand.

The back of Hermione's head appeared in the doorway, "Come ON, Ronald! Honestly! And, oh, Harry, I'm so terribly sorry. We were just conerned, you know, but I'm quite sorry. Really. Oh, Ronald, COME ON! Walk, you silly man." Ron turned towards Hermione's voice, his eyes still shut, and fumbled towards her increasingly high-pitched yells, his arms outstretched to avoid walking into a wall.

Once the door was finally shut, Draco shook his head, "I have really got to come up with some stronger wards."

Harry chuckled softly, "There's not been one yet that Hermione hasn't found her way through. Sorry, love." He met Draco's mischievious smile, and attempted to look sorrowful. "I really am...terribly sorry that we were interrupted. Were there anything I could do, you know, to make it up to you..." He trailed off, moving forward to lay a silken kiss in the very center of his lover's chest.

The blonde Slytherin Seeker, shrugged, "Oh, I'm quite certain I can think of something." They both snickered between long bouts of snogging, only coming up for air.


**********************************

Please, let me know what you think of this one. I had fun writing it, so I really hope you had fun reading it.
:-) Morgan