Author: Poseida Lunar PM
Harry and Draco were in this relationship for two years. During that time, they've never kissed or held hands. HPDMRated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Draco M. & Harry P. - Words: 1,118 - Reviews: 34 - Favs: 71 - Follows: 8 - Published: 11-23-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5530518
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer:the Harry Potter series belong to the great Lady of Britain, J. K. Rowling. I, a mere amateur, own no piece of this wonderful literature. Please don't sue me.
And here's the first piece of anything Drarry I've done in, what, months? I'm so sorry guys, One Piece is really pulling me into its world; I couldn't resist for a while. Now, though, I'll be writing for both fandoms. Enjoy this drabble. :)
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had been together for two years, and in the two years they'd been in this relationship, never once had they kissed or even held hands. Admiring and lusting each other from the distance was enough for them.
"Are we going to kick Ferret-Face's arse this afternoon or what?" Ron Weasley said, shooting glares at the Slytherin table periodically as if not glaring at them was not breathing to him. "He did challenge you, Mate. We should really kick his arse just like we did last time... Now that I think about it, when was the last time someone gave him a good spanking?"
"Ron!" Hermione cried, looking up from her book. "We're not messing with them."
"Aw, come on..."
Harry shot her a graceful look, "Thank you."
she returned it with a mere nod and went back to scolding Ron.
"What's up, Potter?"
"Now will you let me at him?" the Weasley boy grumbled and bared his teeth with frustration. "I don't get how you can be so calm about this, Harry. Don't you want to smash his face in at least?"
"I don't want to get into trouble," the brunette simply answered and glanced at Malfoy out the corner of his eyes.
"Oh, come on, it'd be worth it."
He sighed, Hermione wasn't here to shut Ron up. "Fine, I'll talk to him."
"That's my b- Wait, talk?" He gave Harry a baffled look as his best friend walked up to the Slytherin.
And Harry simply gave Malfoy a clear look, and with pressed lips as if he lost but didn't want to admit it, the ferret strolled away with his goons behind him.
Hermione knew that her boyfriend would never understand what was going on with Harry and Draco. Ron hated the Malfoy family too much, and building upon that was the personal rivalry between him and the Malfoy heir... No, she decided, Ron would never get it. Her? She honestly didn't know what to think when she first saw them standing together in that empty classroom.
They weren't touching each other; in fact, they were meters apart. Draco sitting on top of a desk, Harry leaning against the black board.
But the words, how their words touched her.
Hermione read many romance books, and she always thought the tender kisses and the intimate slumber shared by lovers were the most loving of all actions. Those were the things that held a couple together. She was wrong.
"We never fuck, Hermione, what make you think we did?" Harry said to her when she asked that next day, blushing like mad.
"Oh, I just thought-"
"I haven't even felt what his face is like," Harry proceeded, looking out the Gryffindor tower window and into the distance, pain and thought clouded his eyes. "He wouldn't let me, and I agree that it's for the best."
"We're trying to rid it, why else?"
Rid it. Rid what? Rid their feelings for each other?
"Not everybody is as open as you, 'Mione."
No, she realized, no, not everybody was as accepting of them as her. Ron, driven by his hatred of Draco, would be disgusted by this. And the others? Had she even seen a gay or lesbian pair walking through this school? For once, Hermione thought she read too much and had not paid her fellow students enough heed. But that wasn't it was it? She began paying more attention, and found out no, there wasn't a single out of the closet gay.
Homosexuals may not be bonded or married.
They may not display public affections of any sort.
They must carry a pink, Ministry-registered ribbon at all time, and must check in with St. Mungo at the end of every month.
Lesbians were obligated to be surrogate mother when ask of, and gays must give annual sperm donation.
She was shocked.
"See?" Harry said.
That was nearly one and a half years ago. Not touching didn't work.
"So kiss him," she told Harry one day.
And Harry chuckled at her. "For a prodigy, you ask a lot of questions, Hermione."
She frowned. "Don't laugh at me. This kind of relationship is unnatural. How can you two claim to love each other when you aren't even willing to touch one another?!"
There was silence. "I want to wait."
"This isn't sex, Harry."
But he waited. Hermione, for once in her life, did not understand something.
When Harry arrived at the Room of Requirement, the sight of candles brightened his vision instantly, and he winced, blinked, rubbing his eyes. Finally, after minutes, his eyes adjusted to the light after wandering around in the dark for over an hour.
"Hello," Draco Malfoy's voice was barely a whisper.
"Hello," he greeted back casually. "What's this?"
"It's a second anniversary. We've been together for two years now, so I thought that I'd light some candles."
A calm, yet at the same time sensual sensation washed through his whole body. "Thank you," he muttered, dropped the Invisibility Cloak at the northern corner and sat on the couch. "I'm tired. I went through another interview today with the Minister about that Auror position. He said I have the experience, but doesn't know if I can join; I'm still too young for a Ministry position, he said. Then I filled out three more packets of paperwork. I don't think I want to be on anymore, if it's that much trouble." Harry smiled at Draco. "How's your day?"
"Same as always." Harry nodded and closed his eyes.
"It's been two years."
"What will they say? I'm still scared."
"So am I."
A hand suddenly touched his cheeks, and Harry opened his eyes instantly. He brought up his own hands, covering up the other pair. Though, despite the two years empty of contact, he felt no surprise. Just fulfillment.
"Do you want to tell them? I'm sick of hiding."
"Whatever you want."