Perfectly Flawed

Perfectly Flawed

A/N: Don't shoot! I've been meaning to write this, but [insert excuses here]. And, well, when you take all that into consideration...it just took a while, and I apologize! Leave a review if you liked the conclusion.

PLEASE REVIEW!

WARNING: I suggest reading Missing Malfoy and Ferret's Play before reading this.

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When he woke, it felt as if he’d been hit by a truck. There was a light in his eyes, glaring, making it hard for him to open them without getting blinded. So, irresolutely, he left them shut and focused on turning over. However, that was when he realized that he was no longer in the bed he’d fallen asleep in; he was sitting on what seemed to be a very hard, wooden chair.

It was then that he remembered what had happened the night previous. He had…with Harry…the realization was enough courage for him to open his eyes wide, even against the blinding light that was streaming right into his dilated pupils. Someone was sitting on his bed, meaning he was pointed toward it and against his cupboards and cabinets.

“Harry,” he called quietly, hanging his head against the light. Where was it coming from, anyway? “Harry, what’s going on?”

The figure on the bed shifted; Draco could tell he was now being stared at. He didn’t like the look of this, not one bit. Harry stood from his sitting position, moving over to stand near Draco right then. The light turned off. Draco looked up immediately, only to be held up and wandpoint. The blond swallowed thickly.

“What did you do to me?” Harry asked in a breathless whisper. If Draco hadn’t known better, he’d have said Potter had been crying before.

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but as he did he instinctively looked up to look Harry in the eyes. It was a bad decision; his normally beautiful, sharp green eyes were red and puffy, not to mention glaring directly down at Draco as if he were filthier than dirt on the bottom of Harry’s shoe.

“I don’t know –”

Harry gripped his wand tighter, cutting Draco off. “Don’t tell me that you don’t know. You…you had me turned into a ferret, then bloody raped me –”

“Rape?” snarled Draco, beginning to get upset now. How dare Harry accuse him of such a thing? “I didn’t rape you, Potter, you asked me for it,” exclaimed Draco, watching Harry turn away from him toward the bed.

It didn’t last long. Harry was turned toward him soon after. “I was a bloody ferret, Malfoy! My avoiding you wasn’t bluntly obvious for you?”

If Draco hadn’t been tied rather crudely to the chair, he would have towered over Harry and made him see reason. As it was, he was stuck to a chair and looking up at a rather frantic, pacing Harry Potter. “This is ridiculous, Potter, don’t you see anything?” he asked, wiggling in his confines. Secretly, he began undoing the rope that was, he could tell, tied by hand, around his wrists behind the chair.

Potter must have really been upset if he tied them himself, instead of using magic.

“I woke up to your body against mine, Malfoy. I remember what happened last night, you – you dragging me around the bed –”

Draco was still struggling with his confines, squirming in his seat so he could get them undone. “That’s how ferrets mate, Potter, are you daft?” he asked, but the question was rhetorical. What had Potter flipped out? Draco was under the impression that he’d liked what had happened; Draco had counted on having a repeat performance this morning.

No such luck.

“Let’s get a few things straight, Potter,” said Draco, glaring at him though his fingers were still numbly untying the rope around his wrists. Potter didn’t look happy about listening to Draco, but the blond was happy to note that he was silent, waiting for him to speak. “I knew it was you when you were that ferret. I wanted you to see that I wasn’t a complete prick so that you would see me differently when you turned human again,” he tried, almost growling at his confines.

Harry’s expression softened for just a few moments, but it was hidden under anger again almost instantly. “So you knew it was me when you raped me!” he yelled, wand pointed at Draco’s chest again.

Just a bit more, Draco thought. Only a few more knots and he’d be free. Draco glared at Harry, who kept his wand pointed threateningly at him. One more knot…free! Draco spontaneously kicked Harry’s wand from his hand and leapt from his chair, knocking the other boy to the ground.

“Gerroff, Malfoy!” Harry all but screamed, kicking and punching at Draco.

The blond would have none of it, instead pinning Harry’s arms over his head and straddling his waist. “Stop struggling, Potter,” insisted Draco. “I’ll hex you if I have to, but you’re going to listen to me either way.”

Harry struggled for a few more moments, before falling flax against the hardwood floor and glaring up at Draco something vile. Draco wanted to sneer down at him; the looks Harry was giving him reminded him of how he trained himself to respond before. Before this happened, before he fell hard for Harry. And now it was all he could do to keep Harry still.

“Last night, I exposed myself to you.” Draco told him, applying pressure to Harry’s wrists so he’d pay attention. “I tried to show you how much I cared about you. No matter what you look like, or who you are – what you are – I wanted you, Harry. I still do,” said Draco, looking down at Harry.

The blond was frowning; Harry, on the other hand, had been staring up at Draco with a livid expression until he heard, truly heard, the blond’s words. “You’re lying,” said Harry nervously, but it was no good.

Draco’s frown deepened, but he didn’t release Harry. Instead, he leaned down closer to his face, lips brushing wonderfully over the corner of the brunet’s lips and cheek. “Do you want to leave?” Draco whispered, pulling away a little so he could look into Harry’s eyes. Harry was still, wearing a nervous expression, but that was certainly better than a frightened or upset one.

His hands were released, but Harry lay there, still. “Malfoy –”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Draco let his arms rest on either side of Harry’s head, and when Harry didn’t push him off, he pushed his lips to the other boy’s, hearing Harry murmur only the slightest protest in the form of a half-whimper. “Leave, Potter,” said Draco between small, chaste kisses. But Harry didn’t move; didn’t make the slightest physical protest. Draco’s kisses came faster onto Harry’s lips after that, then deeper, and finally Draco was holding his hands to Harry’s waist as his tongue pushed between his lips.

Slowly, Harry began to respond to the kisses and Draco almost melted into his body. Hopefully, he thought, Harry was remembering how tenderly he’d taken care of him the day before. Feeling Harry responding to him now, positively at that, Draco was that more encouraged.

And soon after Harry began kissing Draco back, Draco felt hands in his hair and roaming over his back. The touches gave him chills, such pleasant feelings that Draco couldn’t help but moan quietly into Harry’s mouth. As it turned out, it wasn’t the smartest move he’d made thus far; Harry seemed to have woken from a daze and stopped moving all together.

“Harry,” said Draco after letting the other’s lips go. He looked down at him, at his shocked expression, feeling his breathing increase under him. But Harry didn’t say anything; in fact, he was completely still until he decided to take Draco off guard. The brunet, somehow, flipped them over without Draco realizing what was happening until it was too late. Before the blond knew what had happened, he was on the floor, looking up at Harry, who had both balled fists clutched on his bare chest.

He didn’t say anything, though; instead, he stared down at Draco’s face before standing and walking quickly away, wearing a pair of boxers Draco was sure he’d found in his closet, as they were slightly too big for him. His blond head rest against the floor and if it weren’t for his Malfoy upbringing, he would have started crying. He’d lost him, been too forward, raped Harry apparently, and now Harry was gone.

At least, he thought he was. In the midst of thinking to himself, Draco hadn’t bothered listening to his surroundings. This was the reason why he was shocked out of his thoughts when he heard the sweetest voice calling to him from a higher altitude.

“Draco,” said the voice.

With enough confidence as he could muster, Draco got to his feet and stared at his bed in semi-shock. He was laying there, atop his covers, legs apart and bent in a comfortable, lazy sort of way – but to Draco, it was all the invitation he needed. The blond willed his feet to go toward the sight, but his eyes were solely on a pair of beautiful emeralds and his mind was blank; he couldn’t seem to think of a single thing to say.

Swallowing whatever he was about to stammer, Draco kneeled on his bed and slowly crawled between Harry’s legs, placing his hands gently on the boy’s waist yet again. “Harry –” he tried, but Harry stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“If this is a trick, Draco Malfoy, so help me I will make you beg for mercy,” said Harry, his eyes hard with sincerity. Draco began kissing his jaw-line and the corner of his lips, rejoicing at getting a chance with Harry. But Harry wasn’t finished, hence why he pushed Draco’s chest so he’d pay attention. “I mean it. I’m risking everything; my friends already suspect me of a lot of things; they didn’t even want to believe I was bisexual. I don’t want to throw what I have away for a prank.”

Pink lips moved across slightly chapped red ones, if only to shut Harry up to long enough for him to realize that Draco wasn’t fooling around; he wasn’t tricking anyone, wasn’t having one over on Harry. Finally, it looked like Harry believed him, for he felt hands in his hair and around his neck once again.

“Get under the covers,” whispered Draco, pulling the duvet out from under Harry. After he was situated between Harry’s legs, Draco surrounded the both of them with covers, pulling them up by the lower of his back and around Harry’s sides. “Sure you don’t want to run?” asked the blond, leaning over Harry once more.

This time, Harry was the one to begin the kiss, something that Draco was grateful for. He kissed him back almost hungrily, arms wrapping the brunet’s waist. “If you’re having me on, we’ll worry about it later,” said Harry, breaking the kiss and leaning his head on Draco’s shoulder.

His hands were all over Harry’s skin, feeling what he couldn’t the night before. “I’m not going anywhere,” said Draco, lips attacking Harry’s neck with gentle kisses and moans accompanying them. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted you, wanted this – I’ve only now gotten my chance, and I didn’t even ask for it –”

“Wait,” said Harry, but Draco didn’t stop his sensual touches to Harry’s skin, instead opting to hum along his neck to signal that he was listening. “You didn’t tell Zabini to turn me into a ferret?”

Draco chuckled, moving back to look at Harry’s face, a small smile on his pink lips. “I had no idea you two were going to duel until Pansy told me after she and Blaise returned to the common room,” he said honestly. His smile was still in place. “After getting to know your attitude as a ferret, and watching you interact –”

“It was my eyes, wasn’t it?” Harry deadpanned, looking at Draco knowingly.

Another chuckle escaped those pink, lush lips. “They were a big help, yes,” he agreed, taking one of Harry’s hands in his own. “Seeing you defend me against your friends, though, that tripped me up.”

“They were out of line,” said Harry quietly, accepting the kiss from Draco soon after. It was as if they were both afraid of their moment being over, of being ruined prematurely. Which, right then, was any moment short of the rest of the day, apparently.

Draco grinned, his free hand going to cup Harry’s cheek. “I’ve been out of line many times before, you know.”

“You took care of me, though,” said Harry, free hand rubbing up and down Draco’s shoulders. “You constantly looked after me, and that proved to me you aren’t the self-centered prick I made you out to be.” Harry told him, looking back at him now.

Nodding, the blond kissed his dark-haired companion gently. In truth, he was glad that Harry had accepted him; or at least given him a chance to prove his worth, but Draco also knew that Harry was risking a lot more than he should have had to. Weasley and Granger were already threatening not to speak to him anymore, and as it was, Harry wasn’t helping the matter along.

Not that Draco could complain, really, considering he wanted Harry more than anything.

To show Harry how much he meant to him was going to be a challenge, Draco knew. There was no way to say it in words; though he was sure he’d try sooner rather than later. And physical actions went well, but after seven seconds of orgasm, the feelings were downhill, and that was certainly not an adequate way to show his feelings for Harry.

“I guess you just bring that sort of thing out of me,” said Draco, grinning at Harry before kissing him passionately on the lips.

“I’d like to bring you breakfast in bed,” replied Harry, who laughed quietly when Draco deepened the kiss with a chuckle.

The blond hummed into the kiss, only pulling away to stare down at Harry’s lips for a moment. “Remind me to thank Pansy and Blaise,” he smiled, gaze finding Harry’s once more.

Harry had never before this encounter seen Draco Malfoy smile as he was doing now; never saw him smile so angelically, so perfectly with his wonderful, beautifully structured face spread to show perfect white teeth behind tender pink lips. “What does someone so perfect want with someone so flawed?” asked Harry, his legs bent around Draco’s waist as the blond was kneeled between them, chest close to Harry’s.

“You’re perfectly flawed to me,” said Draco, kissing Harry’s eyelids and nose, then forehead before placing his own to his. “I’ve watched you, remember – watched the way you acted, saw how you were when you were with Weasley and Granger. I wanted to see you smile like that at me; I wanted you to know that I’ve learned from you,” murmured the blond, kissing the corner of Harry’s lips.

Harry didn’t seem too eager to accept this answer as the correct one. “You’re the one that has a picture-perfect life, Draco: the wealthy Pureblood with anyone and everyone at his command. The world’s dangling at your fingertips,” muttered Harry, frowning and looking away. “I thought about a lot of things you used to tell me, you know.”

“Don’t, Harry –”

But Harry interrupted him by simply speaking, not looking at the blond as he did so. “I started thinking about my future when we started planning for OWLs, then again not too long ago for NEWTs. I realized when I was studying for OWLs that my life wasn’t about Hogwarts, or getting an O on a silly paper, it was about saving the world from a madman,” said Harry, looking back at Draco now.

The blond wasn’t happy to hear Harry speaking like that. “Harry, please stop –”

Harry silenced him with another kiss to his lips. “The madman’s gone, now, and until yesterday I wasn’t sure what my future was going to be about,” whispered Harry, who was looking at Draco almost embarrassedly now. “I don’t know how to tell you that you’ve brought me something to look forward to. A change – a whole idea to wrap my future around, and it starts with you.”

“That’s a lot to consider right now,” said Draco, cupping Harry’s face in his hands before kissing his lips a few times quickly. Harry looked a bit put out. “I’d love the chance to prove myself to you, but at the same time I need you to remember what I’ve done. One day one of us could wake up and not want this anymore.”

He was right, Harry knew. Though he liked being in Draco’s arms now, tomorrow he could very well wake up and think himself bonkers for wanting the blond prat. But as things were right then, Harry had found someone that cared about him, actually liked him for who he was, not what he did. “So until then, we just snog each other and go to class?” asked Harry cheekily, accepting the pleasurable attacks to his skin by mouth and fingers.

“Don’t be so modest, we have other ways of entertaining ourselves,” said Draco, grinning playfully as his pale hand left Harry’s cheek. Harry gasped quietly when he felt where the hand had been replaced; the large bulge in the boxers Harry wore was now covered.

The door opening ruined their moment, startling Draco and Harry enough to tense defensively as they looked to see who was intruding. Harry braced himself on his palms behind his body, Draco on the other hand was turned to face his door. There, in the small crack in the door, was Pansy and Blaise peeping in.

“Well, that turned out better than expected,” said Blaise, snickering at the picture of them on the Head Boy’s bed.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “I told you that Potter liked him,” she said, smiling all the while.

“You did not,” Blaise denied, but he was stopped when Draco cleared his throat. Zabini raised an eyebrow at them mockingly. “We’re sorry, are we interrupting something?”

Draco looked almost ready to chuck something at his friend’s head, and was sure he’d start throwing if he could reach anything to throw. “Draco and I wanted to say thanks, actually,” said Harry, grasping Draco’s arm in hopes of calming him. Pansy grinned at his words. “We both needed the help.”

Harry could have sworn he heard Blaise mutter something along the lines of ‘No kidding,’ but he wasn’t sure. “You’re welcome, Potter. We’ll leave you two alone, we just wanted to tell you that breakfast’s starting soon.”

With that, they closed the door and left a very annoyed Draco behind. Harry, on the other hand, was chewing his bottom lip, the sight of which Draco found when he finally turned around. Frowning, he pulled the troubled bottom lip from the other’s mouth. “You’re worried about what Weasley and Granger are going to say, aren’t you?” he asked, frown deepening.

“With good reason,” said Harry.

Draco nodded, though he wasn’t sure what those were.

Sure, Weasley and Granger were Harry’s best friends, but after the way they so easily gave up on him proved they weren’t such great people, even Draco could see that. Blaise and Pansy had helped him get Harry, and they’d been years younger when they found out. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” offered Draco, still frowning despite his attempt to be positive.

Harry, sensing the negative worries, sighed and closed his eyes against the harsh reality that was his life. “They’re going to look at me with such disdain,” muttered Harry in a very hurt, confused tone.

“Why let them ruin your happiness?” Draco asked carefully. He was pretty sure he had two options right then. The first, and the one he was leaning on, was making Harry realize that any true friends would accept him for who and what he was. The second, the one he was trying to forget, was giving up Harry so he could continue his path of being normal. It was, of course, what Harry wanted.

Draco knew that much. But giving up his chance was a hard thing to do, as selfish as it sounded.

“I guess I shouldn’t,” Harry muttered, looking away again. He sighed irresolutely and made to stand from the bed, only being stopped by Draco’s hand grasping his forearm. The blond kept him on the bed, sitting over the edge, and he kissed his lips lovingly. “If you’re thinking about choosing, don’t,” said the blond. “I’ll choose for you.”

Harry, though he had a million things to say, kept his mouth shut as he looked at Draco.

And the blond, though he was dreading it, took the silence as an answer and got off his bed, grabbed a change of clothes and left his suite in favor of changing in Pansy and Blaise’s room before heading to breakfast.

Harry, meanwhile, wiped his eyes and dressed in clothes a size too big for him from Draco’s closet and left his room, determined on making a normal appearance in the Great Hall.

-=0=-

When he got to the Entrance Hall, however, Harry was in no mood for breakfast. He wasn’t sure what to do; in just a short twenty-four hours, he had become attached to Draco and walking around without him now seemed odd. But there he went; his legs and feet were leading him up the moving staircase toward the Gryffindor dormitories. It was the shock before the storm, Harry knew. And even though he told himself that, he still couldn’t come to terms with the fact that Draco had just abandoned the idea of a future.

Perhaps it was he that had abandoned the idea. He hadn’t kept Draco, hadn’t told him to stay, so perhaps it was his fault. The thoughts plagued his mind as he walked up the moving staircase. Harry had managed to make it to the fifth floor before he was stopped. Ron, late to breakfast, was heading down the staircase when he spotted him.

“Harry! Harry!” exclaimed Ron, stopping a few feet from him. “Good to see you, mate, now I can tell Hermione that she was wrong! She had a weird idea, Harry,” Ron began, but Harry made to stop him. Ron had none of it. “She thought you had been turned into a ferret, and I have to admit, I believed it for a while, but the ferret was a real taker to Malfoy, and I know you’d never really –”

“Like Malfoy?” Harry finished, nearly sulking.

Ron nodded immediately. “Exactly that!” he said happily. “Let’s go get some breakfast, mate, and you can tell me and Hermione where you’ve been.”

And before Harry could protest, Ron was leading him back down the staircase. Ron chatted idly about him and Hermione, and the day previous in their classes that Harry remembered moment for moment. More than once, Harry wanted to shout at Ron that he was all wrong about him, that he really had fallen for Malfoy in some way while being his ferret, and that Ron was too daft to see that Harry wasn’t straight.

Alas, he said nothing.

His thought from the day before returned as they neared the Entrance Hall: he was definitely missing Malfoy, something he never thought he’d say or think to himself. But he realized then that he missed feeling Draco’s arms around him, missed feeling comforted and needed. It was ludicrous, really it was, because Malfoy had tormented him for years and only cared for him for a day.

Yet, the only person on Harry’s mind as he entered the Great Hall was the blond whom he didn’t want to see. He didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes with the other boy’s, and so Harry cowardly took his seat next to Hermione and let her ramble on about where he’d been and accuse him of being the ferret seen with Malfoy.

“You let him torment us, call us names, put us down – and for what? He must have rejected you, because you’re back now and you look simply dreadful, Harry –”

A large commotion appeared on the other side of the hall, causing many to look up. Harry, however, was too busy being disciplined by Hermione to notice. Draco had taken command of almost everyone in the Great Hall, though. Including the teachers, and for good reason: he was headed toward the Gryffindor table, looking murderous.

“Bugger off, Granger,” snarled Malfoy, standing between her and Harry. The blond turned to Harry and offered his hand, looking down at him intently. “Come on, Harry,” he said gently, face blank.

The Great Hall buzzed with talk now; Granger looked absolutely furious. Harry, however, simply looked at Draco and took his hand, standing from his seated position.

There were many things that Harry expected to hear as he took Draco’s hand and stood. He expected to hear how he was making a bad decision, how Draco was no good for him or that it was all a trick. Those things he was expected for; he wasn’t expected for silence. And he certainly wasn’t expected for Draco to lean down and kiss him gently in front of everyone. Though he was nervous, and though he was aware of what everyone could possibly say and do, Harry let himself get lost in Draco and kissed him back. If his life was going to begin, he had to start somewhere, and he wanted Draco to be his first step.

The kiss didn’t seem to last very long, but at the same time, it lasted forever. It seemed no time had passed before Draco was pulling away from him to smile down at his face, and just as soon as he did, an echo of a sound rang in their ears. Clapping; someone was clapping, then more were clapping, and soon the entire Great Hall was clapping and cheering for them. Only Hermione and Ron sat in silence it seemed; even Ginny had her hands moving quickly together with a large smile on her face.

It took a few moments, but slowly Ron began clapping too. Harry almost left Draco’s embrace to thank him for keeping an open mind, but he looked at him, longing for acceptance, and soon enough Ron smiled faintly at him. Then his gaze shifted to Hermione, who, though more reluctantly, clapped slowly and had a very, very nasty glance on Draco as she did so, obviously not trusting him as fast as Harry had. But that was okay, Harry expected she wouldn’t.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt a wide smile over take his face that was mimicked only by Draco’s. Suddenly, everything was okay again.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly flawed.

-=0=-

It's finished! I apologize deeply, from the bottom of my heart for not updating sooner. Be content that I finished my One Shot Series! PLEASE REVIEW!

Slashy Snitch