Fic: Sparks
Title: Sparks
Author: mizBean
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,000
Pairings: Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny
A/N: I'm sorry for the delay. Thank you to monifieth and daisy_chan for looking this over.
Cheque: Draco to Harry: I promise to shag you in the Quidditch shed
Sparks
A letter with it
discloses, in its words and between them,
a life opening, fearful, fearless,
thousand-eyed, a field
of sparks that move swiftly
in darkness....
~Denise Levertov
The letter only contained five words.
Spinner’s End.
Keep him safe.
Shaking, Harry crumbled the parchment in his fist. The letter was unsigned, but he knew exactly who had written it, having spent the last year studying his potions notes.
Fuck.
“All right, Harry?” Ron put down his chess piece and looked at Harry with concern.
“Fine. I’m fine,” Harry replied quickly. I’m not. I’m not. “I think I need to lie down. Upstairs.” He flew up the stairs ignoring Ron’s calls. He stumbled into Fred and George’s old room and sank down heavily onto the bed, suddenly unable to breathe.
Snape.
He quickly pulled out his wand and stared at it, gathering up his courage. A split-second later, he disapparated with a sharp pop.
+++
He didn’t find Severus Snape in that dilapidated house in Spinner’s End, he found Draco Malfoy instead, waiting for him in the kitchen with his wand lying on the table in front of him. Harry stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at him, not really registering the scene in front of him until Draco finally looked up. He looked almost regretful, if Harry was being charitable, until his lips twisted to that of a sulky child.
“The old man said he would protect me. I guess it’s up to you now, isn’t it?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and Harry saw red.
Before Draco had a chance to protect himself, Harry kicked the chair out from under him and threw him to the floor. There wasn’t much of a struggle, Draco’s skinny limbs flailed uselessly against Harry. It was almost as if he wasn’t even trying.
Harry grabbed a fistful of blond hair as he ground his knee into Draco’s back. “You’re mine now. You hear me, Malfoy? Mine.”
+++
An arrangement was made. Draco agreed to impart any information he had about the Death Eaters. In exchange, Draco would be protected and not turned over to the Ministry.
As if arrangements like these were ever that simple.
He was installed at the Burrow in a small room off the kitchen where he went on to become the unholiest houseguest since Fleur Delacour. He was completely uncooperative, seeming more interested in making Ginny Weasley’s life hell than naming names. His behaviour earned him several black eyes and a broken tooth that he stubbornly refused to fix, which gave him a slightly wicked air whenever he grinned.
Tonks was this close to throwing him at the mercy of the Ministry. Kingsley just wanted to beat the shit out of him, a sentiment shared by several other members of the Weasley family.
All Harry wanted to do was leave the Burrow behind so that he could get on with his task.
It was the last day of summer when it all came to a head. Harry was sitting in Ginny’s bedroom silently not watching her pack her trunk to return to Hogwarts. She was angry and he felt awkward and he didn’t know what to say.
As it were he didn't have to say anything because Draco had picked that moment to insult Mrs. Weasley's cooking for what seemed like the one hundredth time and a ruckus broke loose outside Ginny's window. Ron was dragging Draco, kicking and screaming, out of the house. Ron had already landed a punch squarely on Draco’s face by the time Harry had leapt to his feet, but it wasn’t until Harry stepped out into the glare of the sun that he remembered Dumbledore’s words on the Astronomy Tower.
Draco’s arms felt thin underneath his hands as he pulled him away from Ron and dragged him round the back of the house.
“Going to take me out back to teach me lesson, are you?” Draco taunted as scrambled to keep up. “Best make it good and hard, then. Show me who’s in charge.”
Harry reddened, but he said nothing until they reached the walled garden where Mrs. Weasley grew her lettuces and carrots. He pulled open the garden gate and pushed Draco inside.
“This is going to stop,” he said, ignoring the smirk growing on Draco’s face.
Draco looked unimpressed. “Really.”
Draco squeaked as Harry grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him forward. “It is my mercy, not yours, that matters now,” he whispered in his ear.
Draco suddenly slackened in his grip. He lifted his head and looked at Harry with wide eyes. “What?” he gasped.
“I was there, Malfoy,” cried Harry, his heart pounding in his chest. He suddenly couldn’t look at Draco’s face with its hollow eyes and bloodied nose anymore. “I heard Dumbledore offer you mercy and I think you would’ve taken it, if…” his voice trailed off and he swallowed, staring resolutely off to the side. “My point is I’m the one offering mercy now. So it ends here. Either you help me or you’re on your own. With nobody to protect you.”
Draco said nothing. Harry stole a glance before turning to go and saw the previously cocky Slytherin staring pitifully at his shoes, the blood from his broken nose still streaking down his chin.
“Tomorrow I leave for Godric’s Hollow,” said Harry quietly. “Be ready to go by six a.m.”
+++
They were staying in a broken down cabin in the woods somewhere east of Cardiff. It lacked furniture and some of the roof shingles were missing, but Harry thought the little bits of starlight poking through roof more than made up for it. It wasn’t magic but it almost reminded Harry of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall.
Draco was sitting in the dark corner smoking a Muggle cigarette. It was a habit he had picked up somewhere along the way. Harry found that he didn’t mind it so much. It was a small price to pay to keep Draco happy and a happy Draco was less likely to be an annoying git. Besides, Draco was entertaining in his own way once Harry learned to ignore half of what he said.
“You’re awake,” said Draco, apparently just now noticing that Harry was watching him.
“Yeah," said Harry sleepily, sitting up. He reached for his glasses and put them on. He had been dreaming about something… He blushed and suddenly looked away, immensely glad for the heavy layers of clothing he had been forced to wear to ward off the cold.
“Hmm,” Draco replied noncommittally, taking a drag on his cigarette. His eyes glittered in the darkness.
Feeling weird because Draco was still watching him, Harry flopped back down on the floor and tried to focus on the stars instead. He wondered if he'd ever feel comfortable around Draco. He sighed. Probably not. It's not like they'd ever be friends or anything.
Draco crept across the floor to be closer to Harry. Apparently not wanting to be ignored, Draco leaned over him and smiled in a way that made Harry’s stomach drop. “So Saint Potter,” he said, flicking his spent cigarette into the corner. “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”
Harry blinked. “Wh-what?” he stammered, blushing scarlet. “What sort of question is that?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows, glowering. Draco liked to do this, pepper Harry with stories of his sexual escapades in the hope of making Harry uncomfortable. It only worked some of the time. Harry was inclined to believe much of Draco’s “experience” was made up unless there actually were wild orgies going on in Slytherin house right under Snape’s nose.
“Just the missionary position on plain cotton sheets for you, I suppose. Pity.”
“No,” Harry replied a little too quickly. “We… Ginny and I…” Why was he telling Draco this? Because you’re stuck with him so you might as well play along. “We didn’t date for very long, but one night we snuck into McGonagall’s classroom - I was going to help her study for her O.W.L.s and she um… she…” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed some more. “Wentdownonmeinstead.”
“Really?” Draco looked impressed.
Buoyed by Draco’s reaction, Harry blathered on, "We used to go down by the lake - it was warmer then - and mess around." He sat up. "Erm... What about you, Malfoy?” he asked. He was actually curious.
Draco sniffed. “All sorts of places. Classrooms, behind the stacks in Flourish and Blotts, the alcove near the potions wing, the lake - everyone does the lake, Potter. It might as well be in the student handbook. Longbottom walked in on me fucking Blaise in the gents at the Three Broomsticks - he looked scarred for life. The Hogwarts Express… You laugh Potter, but Crabbe and Goyle were excellent sentries. Never let anyone pass by.” He looked wistful for a moment and then flashed Harry a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My biggest fantasy at Hogwarts was to shag someone in the Quidditch shed. Alas, it never happened.”
“What?” Harry laughed, despite himself. “Wouldn’t that be sort of uncomfortable with all those brooms?"
“You’re a man without vision, Potter. It’s a shame, really,” said Draco, lying down on the floor next to Harry. “We could have so much fun.”
We. Harry mouthed the word. Did Draco just say what he thought he did? It didn’t help matters that he couldn’t see Draco’s expression in the darkness. “Right,” he replied lamely.
Draco laughed. It wasn’t one his caustic laughs he usually threw at Harry. It was playful and light, and the sound seemed to curl around inside Harry. “Don’t worry Potter. Your virtue is safe with me,” he teased.
Harry decided to play along. What was the harm in that? “That’s too bad, seeing as though I really don’t have any virtue.” He tried to sound coy, but his shaking voice barely sounded above a whisper.
Draco said nothing and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Did he say something wrong? He was rubbish at this sort of thing. Then, unexpectedly, Draco leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips against Harry’s. Harry froze and then opened his mouth tentatively to let in Draco’s darting tongue. Heat curled inside him as his tongue touched Draco’s. And just like that, it was over and Draco withdrew, his expression guarded.
“Accio blanket.” Draco’s blanket flew through the air and landed at his feet. “Good night, Potter,” he said, tucking the blanket around himself before lying down and turning his back to Harry.
“Night,” said Harry, still staring at Draco’s sleeping form. He fell back against his blankets and stared at the roof. He didn’t get much sleep that night.
+++
A log snapped, sending a shower of sparks into the air. A slight gust caught the ash, still glowing orange, and Harry had the sudden unbidden memory of fairy lights as he watched it gently fall back to earth.
It had been weeks since the incident in the cabin. Neither had mentioned it since and Harry often wondered if it had just been a dream. Except there were times when he caught Draco looking at him that he was pretty sure it wasn't. It didn’t explain why Draco had reverted back to his previous immature, difficult self though.
He scuffed the dirt with his foot, watching Draco do the same with the tip of his wand. They hadn’t talked since they arrived in Little Hangleton a few hours before and he was surprised to find that he felt lonely for it.
It was this place. It reeked of evil. He had lied and told Ron and Hermione that they were staying in an inn outside Bristol. He didn’t want them anywhere near here. The thing that he didn’t quite understand was why he was unhappy that Draco had come along too.
As if he knew Harry had been thinking about him, Draco’s eyes rose and met Harry’s. Harry stared back, captivated, despite himself. It wasn’t pale grey colour that he found so interesting, it was the emotions that swirled around inside. Perhaps it was just the reflected firelight, but Harry thought they were beautiful.
Still Harry was on edge. “Why are you here?” he demanded suddenly.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of question is that? You’ve made it quite clear I have no choice in the matter.”
Harry reddened. Why was he doing this? Yet he went on, unable to stop himself. “Why aren’t you with Snape or your mother or all your pureblooded, Slytherin friends?”
Draco got up suddenly, kicking a rock that went skidding across the campsite, hitting Harry in the knee. Harry cried out and immediately felt embarrassed for it.
“This fucking war is not just your business,” he spat, looming over Harry. “You can push away Weasley and Granger and that pathetic little girlfriend of yours, but my life is in your hands.”
“So it’s all about you, is it?” Harry cried, scrambling to his feet. “Don’t you care that your mum is missing or your father is going to be Kissed any day now?”
Draco’s wand suddenly appeared, pointing at Harry’s chin. “Don’t tell me, I don’t care what happens to my family,” he said dangerously.
Harry fumbled for his wand in his robes but it was too late. “Dra-“
“Is this how you show your mercy?” Draco interrupted, as his hand travelled down the length of Harry's arm and wrapped around the wand that Harry had gripped in his hand. “How about I just leave you here. Alone. There are Death Eaters in these woods. I can feel it.” His eyes snapped to the trees behind them and Harry shivered.
Fuck. “You wouldn’t."
“No, I wouldn’t,” Draco replied, lowering his wand. He almost sounded sorry. “From now on, we are doing this together.” He pointed his wand at the fire, dousing the flames. “And we’re getting the hell out of here.”
+++
Later that night, in another part of the forest, Harry dreamt that he had woken up alone and Draco had left him forever. When he did wake up, the sky was slowly turning from purple to orange, and Draco was sound asleep beside him, wrapped in a woollen blanket snatched from Fred and George's bedroom.
Harry inched over and curled into the warmth of Draco’s body. Draco made a soft sound, turning closer and fell back to sleep.
+++
As the saying goes, war makes for strange bedfellows as Harry discovered one day when he and Draco walked into the Burrow and found Neville Longbottom screwing Ginny in Mrs. Weasley’s favourite chair. Harry supposed he deserved that. He hadn’t written to Ginny in over a month. Truth be told, he hadn't even thought about her. That didn’t stop him from standing there in the doorway, slack-jawed, staring at the two of them as they blinked guiltily at him. He might have stood like that forever had Draco not suddenly started to clap.
“Good show,” said Draco, laughing mirthlessly as his staccato claps rang through the room. “Nice.” He turned and stalked past the three gaping Gryffindors and slammed the front door shut behind him.
Harry blinked, staring at the milky white of Ginny’s bare skin. “I… I should go now too. Before…” I do something I’ll regret. He spun on his heels and followed Draco out the door.
He found Draco standing in front of the shed the Weasleys used to store their brooms, casually smoking a cigarette as if he hadn’t just witnessed anything more untoward than an exuberant game of Exploding Snap. He raised an eyebrow as Harry approached. Was he waiting for Harry to say something or was he just taunting him? Harry wasn't sure. His emotions were running of their own accord. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Harry took a deep breath, in a futile effort to slow his racing heart, and lunged at Draco. “Filthy habit,” he muttered, tossing the cigarette out of Draco’s hand and pulling him into the shed by the elbow.
He pushed Draco roughly against the closed door. Images of Ginny and Draco flashed in his mind, melding together in a feverish display and he was suddenly painfully hard. He flattened himself against Draco, pressing his hips forward in an effort to bring relief to his straining cock.
Draco snorted, as Harry tore at the fastenings of his robes. “Are you going to fuck me, Potter? In Weasley’s shed? How quaint.” His hands found Harry’s hips and he gripped them hard, almost to the point of pain.
“Shut up,” Harry growled, finally finding the skin that he had dreamed of. Pale. White. God, it was so soft, just like he thought it would be. He nuzzled the curve of Draco’s neck, smelling cigarettes and lavender soap and something else, something familiar that reminded Harry of his schooldays chasing the Snitch. His frantic movements began to slow, wanting just to revel in being this close to someone again. He wanted this. He wanted Draco. He didn’t want to have to let go.
Draco’s hands slid up Harry’s back, curving around his shoulders. His breath ghosted Harry’s cheek. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he breathed.
“No,” Harry answered truthfully, cocooning his head underneath the fall of Draco’s hair. His mind seemed to have permanently gone the way of carefree days sitting in the Hogwarts courtyard.
“Is this what you want?” Draco’s voice was soft but clear.
Yes, yes he wanted this. Harry nodded and croaked, “yes,” his voice sounding rusty and unused.
“Touch me, then,” Draco whispered.
He hesitated for a moment before letting Draco guide his hand to cup the mound in Draco’s trousers. Draco’s eyelashes fluttered against his skin. His normally watchful eyes, shuttered, calm. It was breathtaking.
When Harry finally pushed into him, his straining legs kicked at the broomsticks competing for space on the floor. The shed was hot and dusty and Draco couldn’t have been comfortable with his back pressed against the rough siding, but they both groaned when Draco pulled Harry forward for a blistering kiss. Their tongues intertwined, hungry and desperate, and it didn’t last long before their muffled whimpers turned to cries and Harry came, shuddering, his legs nearly giving way to the floor.
+++
Harry watched Draco anxiously as they dressed. Draco seemed more distressed by the state of his clothes then what had just occurred between them, as he kicked a Beaters bat and something that looked like a petrified squirrel off the top of his robes. He looked murderously at the filthy robes in his hands and Harry couldn’t help but snickering.
“Not funny, Potter,” Draco growled, trying to shake out his robes in the small space. “I think I’ll amend my fantasy about getting shagged in a Quidditch shed, to perhaps just getting shagged in a warm, soft bed.”
“I don’t want to stay here tonight,” said Harry, suddenly remembering Ginny.
Draco gave his robes one last shake and slipped them on. “No, I suspect not,” he said, watching Harry. Some emotion flickered in Draco’s eyes then, something that Harry didn’t dare try to understand. Finally, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry's before pulling away. “Let’s go, shall we?” he whispered.
Harry nodded. He grasped Draco’s elbow and they both disapparated.
Author: mizBean
Rating: R
Wordcount: 3,000
Pairings: Harry/Draco, past Harry/Ginny
A/N: I'm sorry for the delay. Thank you to monifieth and daisy_chan for looking this over.
Cheque: Draco to Harry: I promise to shag you in the Quidditch shed
Sparks
A letter with it
discloses, in its words and between them,
a life opening, fearful, fearless,
thousand-eyed, a field
of sparks that move swiftly
in darkness....
~Denise Levertov
The letter only contained five words.
Spinner’s End.
Keep him safe.
Shaking, Harry crumbled the parchment in his fist. The letter was unsigned, but he knew exactly who had written it, having spent the last year studying his potions notes.
Fuck.
“All right, Harry?” Ron put down his chess piece and looked at Harry with concern.
“Fine. I’m fine,” Harry replied quickly. I’m not. I’m not. “I think I need to lie down. Upstairs.” He flew up the stairs ignoring Ron’s calls. He stumbled into Fred and George’s old room and sank down heavily onto the bed, suddenly unable to breathe.
Snape.
He quickly pulled out his wand and stared at it, gathering up his courage. A split-second later, he disapparated with a sharp pop.
+++
He didn’t find Severus Snape in that dilapidated house in Spinner’s End, he found Draco Malfoy instead, waiting for him in the kitchen with his wand lying on the table in front of him. Harry stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at him, not really registering the scene in front of him until Draco finally looked up. He looked almost regretful, if Harry was being charitable, until his lips twisted to that of a sulky child.
“The old man said he would protect me. I guess it’s up to you now, isn’t it?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest and Harry saw red.
Before Draco had a chance to protect himself, Harry kicked the chair out from under him and threw him to the floor. There wasn’t much of a struggle, Draco’s skinny limbs flailed uselessly against Harry. It was almost as if he wasn’t even trying.
Harry grabbed a fistful of blond hair as he ground his knee into Draco’s back. “You’re mine now. You hear me, Malfoy? Mine.”
+++
An arrangement was made. Draco agreed to impart any information he had about the Death Eaters. In exchange, Draco would be protected and not turned over to the Ministry.
As if arrangements like these were ever that simple.
He was installed at the Burrow in a small room off the kitchen where he went on to become the unholiest houseguest since Fleur Delacour. He was completely uncooperative, seeming more interested in making Ginny Weasley’s life hell than naming names. His behaviour earned him several black eyes and a broken tooth that he stubbornly refused to fix, which gave him a slightly wicked air whenever he grinned.
Tonks was this close to throwing him at the mercy of the Ministry. Kingsley just wanted to beat the shit out of him, a sentiment shared by several other members of the Weasley family.
All Harry wanted to do was leave the Burrow behind so that he could get on with his task.
It was the last day of summer when it all came to a head. Harry was sitting in Ginny’s bedroom silently not watching her pack her trunk to return to Hogwarts. She was angry and he felt awkward and he didn’t know what to say.
As it were he didn't have to say anything because Draco had picked that moment to insult Mrs. Weasley's cooking for what seemed like the one hundredth time and a ruckus broke loose outside Ginny's window. Ron was dragging Draco, kicking and screaming, out of the house. Ron had already landed a punch squarely on Draco’s face by the time Harry had leapt to his feet, but it wasn’t until Harry stepped out into the glare of the sun that he remembered Dumbledore’s words on the Astronomy Tower.
Draco’s arms felt thin underneath his hands as he pulled him away from Ron and dragged him round the back of the house.
“Going to take me out back to teach me lesson, are you?” Draco taunted as scrambled to keep up. “Best make it good and hard, then. Show me who’s in charge.”
Harry reddened, but he said nothing until they reached the walled garden where Mrs. Weasley grew her lettuces and carrots. He pulled open the garden gate and pushed Draco inside.
“This is going to stop,” he said, ignoring the smirk growing on Draco’s face.
Draco looked unimpressed. “Really.”
Draco squeaked as Harry grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him forward. “It is my mercy, not yours, that matters now,” he whispered in his ear.
Draco suddenly slackened in his grip. He lifted his head and looked at Harry with wide eyes. “What?” he gasped.
“I was there, Malfoy,” cried Harry, his heart pounding in his chest. He suddenly couldn’t look at Draco’s face with its hollow eyes and bloodied nose anymore. “I heard Dumbledore offer you mercy and I think you would’ve taken it, if…” his voice trailed off and he swallowed, staring resolutely off to the side. “My point is I’m the one offering mercy now. So it ends here. Either you help me or you’re on your own. With nobody to protect you.”
Draco said nothing. Harry stole a glance before turning to go and saw the previously cocky Slytherin staring pitifully at his shoes, the blood from his broken nose still streaking down his chin.
“Tomorrow I leave for Godric’s Hollow,” said Harry quietly. “Be ready to go by six a.m.”
+++
They were staying in a broken down cabin in the woods somewhere east of Cardiff. It lacked furniture and some of the roof shingles were missing, but Harry thought the little bits of starlight poking through roof more than made up for it. It wasn’t magic but it almost reminded Harry of the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall.
Draco was sitting in the dark corner smoking a Muggle cigarette. It was a habit he had picked up somewhere along the way. Harry found that he didn’t mind it so much. It was a small price to pay to keep Draco happy and a happy Draco was less likely to be an annoying git. Besides, Draco was entertaining in his own way once Harry learned to ignore half of what he said.
“You’re awake,” said Draco, apparently just now noticing that Harry was watching him.
“Yeah," said Harry sleepily, sitting up. He reached for his glasses and put them on. He had been dreaming about something… He blushed and suddenly looked away, immensely glad for the heavy layers of clothing he had been forced to wear to ward off the cold.
“Hmm,” Draco replied noncommittally, taking a drag on his cigarette. His eyes glittered in the darkness.
Feeling weird because Draco was still watching him, Harry flopped back down on the floor and tried to focus on the stars instead. He wondered if he'd ever feel comfortable around Draco. He sighed. Probably not. It's not like they'd ever be friends or anything.
Draco crept across the floor to be closer to Harry. Apparently not wanting to be ignored, Draco leaned over him and smiled in a way that made Harry’s stomach drop. “So Saint Potter,” he said, flicking his spent cigarette into the corner. “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”
Harry blinked. “Wh-what?” he stammered, blushing scarlet. “What sort of question is that?” he asked, sitting up on his elbows, glowering. Draco liked to do this, pepper Harry with stories of his sexual escapades in the hope of making Harry uncomfortable. It only worked some of the time. Harry was inclined to believe much of Draco’s “experience” was made up unless there actually were wild orgies going on in Slytherin house right under Snape’s nose.
“Just the missionary position on plain cotton sheets for you, I suppose. Pity.”
“No,” Harry replied a little too quickly. “We… Ginny and I…” Why was he telling Draco this? Because you’re stuck with him so you might as well play along. “We didn’t date for very long, but one night we snuck into McGonagall’s classroom - I was going to help her study for her O.W.L.s and she um… she…” Draco raised an eyebrow and Harry blushed some more. “Wentdownonmeinstead.”
“Really?” Draco looked impressed.
Buoyed by Draco’s reaction, Harry blathered on, "We used to go down by the lake - it was warmer then - and mess around." He sat up. "Erm... What about you, Malfoy?” he asked. He was actually curious.
Draco sniffed. “All sorts of places. Classrooms, behind the stacks in Flourish and Blotts, the alcove near the potions wing, the lake - everyone does the lake, Potter. It might as well be in the student handbook. Longbottom walked in on me fucking Blaise in the gents at the Three Broomsticks - he looked scarred for life. The Hogwarts Express… You laugh Potter, but Crabbe and Goyle were excellent sentries. Never let anyone pass by.” He looked wistful for a moment and then flashed Harry a brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My biggest fantasy at Hogwarts was to shag someone in the Quidditch shed. Alas, it never happened.”
“What?” Harry laughed, despite himself. “Wouldn’t that be sort of uncomfortable with all those brooms?"
“You’re a man without vision, Potter. It’s a shame, really,” said Draco, lying down on the floor next to Harry. “We could have so much fun.”
We. Harry mouthed the word. Did Draco just say what he thought he did? It didn’t help matters that he couldn’t see Draco’s expression in the darkness. “Right,” he replied lamely.
Draco laughed. It wasn’t one his caustic laughs he usually threw at Harry. It was playful and light, and the sound seemed to curl around inside Harry. “Don’t worry Potter. Your virtue is safe with me,” he teased.
Harry decided to play along. What was the harm in that? “That’s too bad, seeing as though I really don’t have any virtue.” He tried to sound coy, but his shaking voice barely sounded above a whisper.
Draco said nothing and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. Did he say something wrong? He was rubbish at this sort of thing. Then, unexpectedly, Draco leaned forward and lightly pressed his lips against Harry’s. Harry froze and then opened his mouth tentatively to let in Draco’s darting tongue. Heat curled inside him as his tongue touched Draco’s. And just like that, it was over and Draco withdrew, his expression guarded.
“Accio blanket.” Draco’s blanket flew through the air and landed at his feet. “Good night, Potter,” he said, tucking the blanket around himself before lying down and turning his back to Harry.
“Night,” said Harry, still staring at Draco’s sleeping form. He fell back against his blankets and stared at the roof. He didn’t get much sleep that night.
+++
A log snapped, sending a shower of sparks into the air. A slight gust caught the ash, still glowing orange, and Harry had the sudden unbidden memory of fairy lights as he watched it gently fall back to earth.
It had been weeks since the incident in the cabin. Neither had mentioned it since and Harry often wondered if it had just been a dream. Except there were times when he caught Draco looking at him that he was pretty sure it wasn't. It didn’t explain why Draco had reverted back to his previous immature, difficult self though.
He scuffed the dirt with his foot, watching Draco do the same with the tip of his wand. They hadn’t talked since they arrived in Little Hangleton a few hours before and he was surprised to find that he felt lonely for it.
It was this place. It reeked of evil. He had lied and told Ron and Hermione that they were staying in an inn outside Bristol. He didn’t want them anywhere near here. The thing that he didn’t quite understand was why he was unhappy that Draco had come along too.
As if he knew Harry had been thinking about him, Draco’s eyes rose and met Harry’s. Harry stared back, captivated, despite himself. It wasn’t pale grey colour that he found so interesting, it was the emotions that swirled around inside. Perhaps it was just the reflected firelight, but Harry thought they were beautiful.
Still Harry was on edge. “Why are you here?” he demanded suddenly.
Draco’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of question is that? You’ve made it quite clear I have no choice in the matter.”
Harry reddened. Why was he doing this? Yet he went on, unable to stop himself. “Why aren’t you with Snape or your mother or all your pureblooded, Slytherin friends?”
Draco got up suddenly, kicking a rock that went skidding across the campsite, hitting Harry in the knee. Harry cried out and immediately felt embarrassed for it.
“This fucking war is not just your business,” he spat, looming over Harry. “You can push away Weasley and Granger and that pathetic little girlfriend of yours, but my life is in your hands.”
“So it’s all about you, is it?” Harry cried, scrambling to his feet. “Don’t you care that your mum is missing or your father is going to be Kissed any day now?”
Draco’s wand suddenly appeared, pointing at Harry’s chin. “Don’t tell me, I don’t care what happens to my family,” he said dangerously.
Harry fumbled for his wand in his robes but it was too late. “Dra-“
“Is this how you show your mercy?” Draco interrupted, as his hand travelled down the length of Harry's arm and wrapped around the wand that Harry had gripped in his hand. “How about I just leave you here. Alone. There are Death Eaters in these woods. I can feel it.” His eyes snapped to the trees behind them and Harry shivered.
Fuck. “You wouldn’t."
“No, I wouldn’t,” Draco replied, lowering his wand. He almost sounded sorry. “From now on, we are doing this together.” He pointed his wand at the fire, dousing the flames. “And we’re getting the hell out of here.”
+++
Later that night, in another part of the forest, Harry dreamt that he had woken up alone and Draco had left him forever. When he did wake up, the sky was slowly turning from purple to orange, and Draco was sound asleep beside him, wrapped in a woollen blanket snatched from Fred and George's bedroom.
Harry inched over and curled into the warmth of Draco’s body. Draco made a soft sound, turning closer and fell back to sleep.
+++
As the saying goes, war makes for strange bedfellows as Harry discovered one day when he and Draco walked into the Burrow and found Neville Longbottom screwing Ginny in Mrs. Weasley’s favourite chair. Harry supposed he deserved that. He hadn’t written to Ginny in over a month. Truth be told, he hadn't even thought about her. That didn’t stop him from standing there in the doorway, slack-jawed, staring at the two of them as they blinked guiltily at him. He might have stood like that forever had Draco not suddenly started to clap.
“Good show,” said Draco, laughing mirthlessly as his staccato claps rang through the room. “Nice.” He turned and stalked past the three gaping Gryffindors and slammed the front door shut behind him.
Harry blinked, staring at the milky white of Ginny’s bare skin. “I… I should go now too. Before…” I do something I’ll regret. He spun on his heels and followed Draco out the door.
He found Draco standing in front of the shed the Weasleys used to store their brooms, casually smoking a cigarette as if he hadn’t just witnessed anything more untoward than an exuberant game of Exploding Snap. He raised an eyebrow as Harry approached. Was he waiting for Harry to say something or was he just taunting him? Harry wasn't sure. His emotions were running of their own accord. He wasn’t thinking straight.
Harry took a deep breath, in a futile effort to slow his racing heart, and lunged at Draco. “Filthy habit,” he muttered, tossing the cigarette out of Draco’s hand and pulling him into the shed by the elbow.
He pushed Draco roughly against the closed door. Images of Ginny and Draco flashed in his mind, melding together in a feverish display and he was suddenly painfully hard. He flattened himself against Draco, pressing his hips forward in an effort to bring relief to his straining cock.
Draco snorted, as Harry tore at the fastenings of his robes. “Are you going to fuck me, Potter? In Weasley’s shed? How quaint.” His hands found Harry’s hips and he gripped them hard, almost to the point of pain.
“Shut up,” Harry growled, finally finding the skin that he had dreamed of. Pale. White. God, it was so soft, just like he thought it would be. He nuzzled the curve of Draco’s neck, smelling cigarettes and lavender soap and something else, something familiar that reminded Harry of his schooldays chasing the Snitch. His frantic movements began to slow, wanting just to revel in being this close to someone again. He wanted this. He wanted Draco. He didn’t want to have to let go.
Draco’s hands slid up Harry’s back, curving around his shoulders. His breath ghosted Harry’s cheek. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he breathed.
“No,” Harry answered truthfully, cocooning his head underneath the fall of Draco’s hair. His mind seemed to have permanently gone the way of carefree days sitting in the Hogwarts courtyard.
“Is this what you want?” Draco’s voice was soft but clear.
Yes, yes he wanted this. Harry nodded and croaked, “yes,” his voice sounding rusty and unused.
“Touch me, then,” Draco whispered.
He hesitated for a moment before letting Draco guide his hand to cup the mound in Draco’s trousers. Draco’s eyelashes fluttered against his skin. His normally watchful eyes, shuttered, calm. It was breathtaking.
When Harry finally pushed into him, his straining legs kicked at the broomsticks competing for space on the floor. The shed was hot and dusty and Draco couldn’t have been comfortable with his back pressed against the rough siding, but they both groaned when Draco pulled Harry forward for a blistering kiss. Their tongues intertwined, hungry and desperate, and it didn’t last long before their muffled whimpers turned to cries and Harry came, shuddering, his legs nearly giving way to the floor.
+++
Harry watched Draco anxiously as they dressed. Draco seemed more distressed by the state of his clothes then what had just occurred between them, as he kicked a Beaters bat and something that looked like a petrified squirrel off the top of his robes. He looked murderously at the filthy robes in his hands and Harry couldn’t help but snickering.
“Not funny, Potter,” Draco growled, trying to shake out his robes in the small space. “I think I’ll amend my fantasy about getting shagged in a Quidditch shed, to perhaps just getting shagged in a warm, soft bed.”
“I don’t want to stay here tonight,” said Harry, suddenly remembering Ginny.
Draco gave his robes one last shake and slipped them on. “No, I suspect not,” he said, watching Harry. Some emotion flickered in Draco’s eyes then, something that Harry didn’t dare try to understand. Finally, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips against Harry's before pulling away. “Let’s go, shall we?” he whispered.
Harry nodded. He grasped Draco’s elbow and they both disapparated.