Disclaimer: I'm just playing with JK's toys.
Warnings: Contains SLASH. Rated M for a reason.
Breaking All The Rules
"Anyone we know?" Granger greeted Draco as she walked into their shared office at the Ministry on Monday morning.
"Zacharias Smith." Draco replied glancing up at his co-worker in time to see her brow wrinkle in disgust.
"Really? I thought Harry had more taste than that." She hung up her coat before settling at her desk and beginning to sift through her post.
"What on earth made you think that?" Draco retorted, flipping through the rest of the paper.
Granger sighed. "I honestly don't know."
Following their regular Monday morning discussion about Harry Potter's sex life, the day continued to progress as usual with both of them settling down to work in relative silence until eleven when the muggle-born witch made a trip to the file store. As soon as she was gone, Draco retrieved his copy of the Prophet from his drawer, cutting off the front page with a carefully aimed severing charm. He gave the picture one more cursory glance, noting the way Smith seemed to be more interested in playing up to the supposedly hidden camera than in actually snogging the Gryffindor hero in his arms, before adding it to the bulging file he kept secreted away in his desk. He was pretty sure that Granger knew about the file, but she had never mentioned it and Draco had no intention of confirming its existence by getting it out when she was around.
By the time Granger returned to the office, Draco was back at work as though nothing had happened, barely even glancing up to acknowledge her reappearance. Unfortunately, she had brought Simon with her, one of the office assistants, who was helping her carry her thick stack of files. Simon was pleasant enough and always happy to help, but he had an unfortunate crush on Draco and seemed unwilling or unable to read the signs that clearly told him to bugger off.
"Morning, Draco, good weekend?"
"Lovely thanks." He didn't look up from the parchment he was perusing.
"Do anything nice?"
"This and that."
There was a pause in which Draco assumed the boy was communicating silently with Granger and then, "Well, I guess I'll see you later."
Draco made no reply, continuing to focus on the desk in front of him until he heard the door shut behind Simon.
"You could give him a chance, you know. He's completely hung up on you."
"Yes well perhaps he should be more selective over who he goes to bed with if he wants a chance at something better." Draco retorted with a tone that said they'd had this conversation one too many times.
"If you continue to stick to that rule of yours there'll be no one left. How many is it now?"
Draco shrugged. "How would I know?"
"Come on, Draco, I know all about your file."
Draco froze. "How do you know about that?"
"Well I've suspected for a while now, but I saw you with it last week."
Draco mentally berated himself for the slip. He'd wondered at the time if Granger had caught him but when she'd said nothing, he assumed that he had got away with it. He was never usually so careless, but the photograph splashed across Monday's Daily Prophet had shocked him more than he'd anticipated. He'd only been out with Daniel a couple of times and though they certainly weren't nearing the point of exclusivity yet, he seemed like a nice enough man and he was a spectacular kisser. Finding out that particular relationship was now over before it had even had a real chance to begin had jolted Draco more than he'd expected. It felt a little like he was losing to Potter all over again and this was hardly the first time one of his dates had ended up splashed across the front page snogging the face off of the Gryffindor hero. Sometimes Draco even found himself wondering if Potter was doing it on purpose.
"One kiss doesn't mean you have to completely write him off, you know."
Draco wasn't sure if Granger was referring to Simon or Daniel, but it made little difference. "Potter doesn't do 'one kiss'."
"Then maybe it's time you broke your own rules."
Draco shook his head vehemently. He only had one rule when it came to relationships. If Potter had been there first, Draco wasn't interested. He would not date Harry Potter's cast offs.
"There really won't be anyone left at this rate. You're picky enough as it is."
"I could always date you." He flirted, just to make her roll her eyes.
"Except that I'm engaged... and a woman."
"Well no one's perfect."
"So Simon...?" She pressed.
"I'm not dating anyone who's fucked Potter." Draco stated bluntly, dropping the teasing tone.
Granger sighed before smirking at him suddenly. The expression seemed unexpectedly at home on her face and Draco felt inexplicably nervous all of a sudden.
"What?" He asked after a minute when the Gryffindor witch remained silent.
"You won't date anyone who's dated Harry..."
Draco snorted at the word 'dated' but nodded.
"So date Harry."
"Excuse me?" Draco stared at her incredulously.
"You heard me."
"I am not dating Harry Potter." Draco scoffed.
"Why not?" Granger demanded, her tone surprisingly serious. "It won't break your precious rule."
"I don't want a man who's shagged nearly every witch and wizard in Britain either, never mind half the muggle population." It was his turn to smirk. "And do you really think Potter's never taken matters into his own hands on one of his few nights alone?"
"I don't think that really counts..." She started, but Draco interrupted.
He had once sworn that he would never tell anybody what had happened between he and Potter that one drunken night back at school and he honestly wasn't sure what possessed him to reveal it now and to one of Potter's best friends at that. Clearly the Gryffindor had never spoken of it and Draco knew at least one of those reasons without needing to ask, but the words seemed to slip out anyway.
"It's irrelevant anyway, Potter never goes back for seconds."
There was a stunned silence in the wake of his words.
"You..." She cleared her throat. "You and Harry...?"
Draco nodded. "Once, a long time ago."
"We had too much to drink and ended up in bed together. Well it wasn't quite a bed, but you get my meaning" Draco kept his tone casual. "Like I said, it was a long time ago."
Draco hesitated, but he'd already come this far, he saw no point in stopping now. Besides, Granger would never just let the subject drop now that he'd caught her interest.
"The night of our graduation."
"But wasn't he still with..." She broke off suddenly, her eyes going wide. "Oh... Oh!"
Draco knew from experience that prompting would do no good, she would tell him what her clever little mind was processing when she was good and ready and not a moment sooner.
"He broke up with Ginny the next day." She said finally.
Well that was news to him. Of course he'd known Potter had a girlfriend when they spent the night together and he'd known that a few months later Potter was officially back on the market. The possibility that Draco might have had something to do with the change in the golden boy's status, however, was... interesting, to say the least. As far as he knew, Potter hadn't had a relationship since. Hell, the Gryffindor hadn't even been on so much as a second date.
"It's guilt, it has to be." Granger's voice dragged him out of his thoughts.
"The reason he sleeps around so much. He feels bad for what he did to Ginny and now he thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy."
"He looks happy enough to me."
She shook her head. "You don't know him."
Draco had to agree with that statement so he stayed silent.
"I still don't understand how it happened, you both hated each other so much, I didn't think you'd ever get past it."
"I don't know." Draco shrugged it off. "Neither of us were thinking clearly and I suppose we felt odd about leaving Hogwarts. We ended up talking to each other like normal people for a change and I guess the tension had to go somewhere. One thing lead to another and..."
"What happened afterwards?" She asked quietly.
"We both woke up the next morning with hellish hangovers and a trunk load of regrets."
"How do you know he regretted it?"
"You mean aside from the fact he's a do-good Gryffindor who had just cheated on his perfect little girlfriend with his most hated rival, who also happened to be a boy?"
Granger frowned at him, but motioned for him to continue.
"He said so."
She nodded in understanding before asking, "Why did you regret it?"
Draco bit back the response that sat on the tip of his tongue, unwilling to give the witch that much power over him, though he was sure she at least suspected what his answer might be. 'I didn't regret it' he thought 'not until Potter snapped, blamed me for everything and told me he never wanted to see me again'.
"Because he was Potter." Draco replied instead, as if that explained everything.
For reasons known only to herself, Granger accepted his answer, dropping the subject after that and continuing with her work as if the conversation had never happened. Draco, for his part, wished that he could dismiss the topic so easily. When Granger went out for her lunch at one o'clock, rather than join her, Draco remained at his desk, flipping through his collection of newspaper clippings. Most of the photos were paparzzi shots, taken from behind pot plants in clubs or through a long distance zoom outside restaurants, while a scant few were publicity shots taken at various charity functions, most of which had featured Potter as the guest of honour.
Draco skimmed past all of these to his favourite, the one that he had a second copy of hidden in his bedside drawer at home. It showed Potter with an unnamed man, one of the many muggles that the Gryffindor had seduced. The man had over-long blond hair, not too dissimilar from Draco's own except that it was a few shades darker and quite obviously dyed. His face was hidden, however, buried as it was in the curve of Potter's neck. The Gryffindor had his head thrown back in pleasure and though the picture only showed their upper bodies, the expression on his face made it more than clear that there was plenty going on out of shot. It was also the only photograph to date that showed Potter in any state of undress. He was still wearing his shirt, just about, but one shoulder was bare and the majority of his chest was exposed. The muggle looked nothing like Draco, not really, but if the lights were low and he squinted just a little, he could pretend. He could imagine that it was he who had put that rapturous expression on Potter's face and that particular fantasy had kept him warm on many a cold, lonely night since.
By the time Granger returned, the folder was safely back in his drawer and Draco was back at work, but his mind wasn't on it. Instead his thoughts were stuck three years in the past, fixed on the day that they had all graduated from Hogwarts.
Three years earlier...
Draco wandered silently through the deserted corridors, one hand trailing along the stone wall to keep himself from falling. He was disgustingly drunk having had a few too many glasses of spiked punch at the graduation party in the great hall followed by a larger than average measure of Firewhiskey with the Slytherins before they all headed up to bed. On any normal evening, this quantity of alcohol would have left him snoring the second his head hit the pillow, but tonight was different. Tonight was his very last night at Hogwarts and despite his levels of intoxication he felt oddly restless and unable to settle. Deciding that a walk in the grounds might clear his head enough to let him sleep, Draco had headed out of his common room and into the castle.
It took him longer than it should have done to reach the entrance way, but he got there eventually, pushing open the large doors and stepping out into the moonlit grounds. Perhaps if he'd been sober he would have noticed that the door should have been locked, but as it was, he barely even noticed the set of steps he had to walk down in order to reach the front path. It was only when he missed the first one, nearly sending himself flying, that he remembered to watch where he was going. Giggling, Draco managed to make it down the rest of the steps without tripping and rewarded himself at the bottom by performing a little dance.
It was amazing how freeing it was to be drunk and unobserved, he thought to himself as he began trotting down the path towards the Quidditch pitch. In fact, he might need to try it more often. It was rather a shame that tonight was his last night at school and he wouldn't be able to repeat the experience. He could try it at the Manor, of course, but there would be hell to pay if his mother caught him and besides, he was pretty sure that drinking alone was a Bad Thing and after the whole Death Eater debacle, Draco had made a pact with himself to avoid Bad Things from now on, which meant no getting drunk all by himself, no matter how much fun it might be.
He had just come to this momentous conclusion when he reached the edge of the pitch, walking under the stands to look out over the neatly trimmed field. Forgetting the need to be quiet, Draco let out a loud whoop before hurtling across the grass. He stopped in the very centre, raising his arms out to the sides before spinning around as fast as he could, making the world whizz by at a dizzying rate. The next thing he knew he was lying flat on his back staring up at the sky, but that was ok because the sky was pretty, full of pretty sparkly stars. He was just starting to make up new names for constellations when the stars suddenly vanished as though a sheet had been pulled over them. He was still trying to come to terms with this unatural phenomena when the sheet spoke.
"Malfoy? Are you ok?"
"No." He replied petulantly. "The stars have gone out."
"Huh?" Said the sheet eloquently, turning to look.
"Oh no, they're back now." Draco giggled trying to lift his hand to point at the sky but knocking against something strangely solid instead.
There was an 'oof' sound and then a thud. Curiously, Draco turned his head to investigate, only to find himself being stared at by a pair of shining eyes hidden behind some startlingly familiar glasses.
"Why did you hit me?"
"Didn't mean to, I thought you were a sheet. Sorry."
"You apologised." Potter was still staring at him.
"You never apologise."
"Of course I do. Everyone apologises. Except maybe the Dark Lord but he's dead now, so I guess maybe he should have apologised sometimes. Thank you for that, by the way." Draco babbled happily, still staring into the eyes which he knew would be a stunning shade of green if the light had been better.
"You never apologise to me." Potter clarified. "And, umm, you're welcome, I guess. Though I did kinda think you were on his side and might actually be kinda pissed that he was dead and all."
"I didn't like him very much." Draco confided in a mock whisper. "He was a bit of a bastard, really."
"Er, yeah, I know. Hence the destroying him thing."
Draco nodded sagely, feeling the odd pull of his hair as it caught against the blades of grass behind his head. "That was a good idea."
"Wasn't my idea." Potter mumbled, before abruptly switching conversational topics. "Are you drunk?"
"Yes, I am." Draco replied automatically. "Really quite drunk, in fact. Are you?"
Potter nodded vehemently. "Very drunk. Very, very, verrrry drunk."
"You look hot in the moonlight, did you know that?" Draco said by way of response.
"You look hot." Draco repeated slowly. "In the moonlight."
"Uh, thanks. Erm, you too."
Potter didn't seem to know if Draco was being serious or not so he beamed at the Gryffindor in encouragement. Potter looked slightly taken aback by the expression, before cautiously returning the smile.
"So what are you going to do after school?" Draco asked, changing the subject again.
"Auror training I guess. Maybe move in with Ginny. Probably get married in a few years, have a couple of kids. You?"
Potter did not sound madly excited by the life that lay before him and Draco found himself wondering why that was. It sounded like the perfect life for a Gryffindor hero, though of course it didn't sound particularly appealing to Draco. In fact it sounded rather tame and boring, but he didn't think it would be polite to say so. Instead he changed the subject once more, ignoring Potter's question.
"So this is our last night at Hogwarts. Weird isn't it?"
"Kinda. I never really thought I'd come back again after sixth year though, this feels like a bit of a bonus."
"I s'pose it's a bonus for all of us. I already did my seventh year once. Not that it was much of a seventh year..."
"I bet it was fine for you with all your Death Eater friends as teachers."
"It wasn't a very good learning environment, though. Good for hexes and curses, not so much for books and study."
"Not you too."
"Not me too what?"
"Books." Potter replied as if that explained everything.
"Um?" Draco's forehead wrinkled in confusion as he tried to work out what part of the conversation he'd missed.
"Hermione's been talking about books all day. She just got accepted into the Archive office at the Ministry. Apparently they have lots of books, she's quite excited."
"Granger's working in Archives?" Draco asked, his voice full of dismay.
"Yep. Why do you care?"
"But I'm working in Archives!" Draco whined.
"You're going to be working with Hermione?" Potter snickered. "Oh she's just going to love that. I hope you like research."
"Of course I like research, that's why I applied to work there." Draco told the Gryffindor waspishly, still irritated at the thought of the know-it-all witch already stealing his thunder in his new job.
Potter's eyes suddenly widened comically. "You'd better not steal her away from Ron. Just 'cos you both like boring things like books and research and stuff doesn't mean she'll leave him for you!"
"Like I'd ever want Granger!" Draco was scandalised by the mere thought. "Besides, I'm gay."
"You're..." Potter's voice cracked and he had to swallow a few times before his voice seemed able to continue working. "Really?"
"No, I just thought I'd make it up for the hell of it."
"Of course I'm really gay, you prat."
"What's it like?" Potter asked, nibbling nervously on his lower lip.
"What? Being gay?"
For a second he thought Potter was going to ignore him, but then the Gryffindor spoke, so quietly that Draco had to lean closer to hear him.
"No, I mean... what's it like... kissing other boys?"
"Want to find out?" Draco asked with a wink.
"Maybe." Potter mumbled and Draco thought that the Gryffindor might be blushing, though it was difficult to tell in the dim light.
"It's not much different from kissing girls." Draco told him. "Only it's harder, rougher. Do you like it hard and rough, Potter?"
"Yes..." Potter whispered, his gaze fixed on Draco's mouth.
Smirking, Draco ran his tongue over his lips, noticing the way Potter's eyes followed the movement.
"Do you want to kiss me, Potter?"
"Then kiss me." Draco told him huskily.
Slowly, Potter inched forward, closing the gap between them. Draco didn't really expect the Gryffindor to go through with it, but he waited curiously to see what he might do next. Except Potter didn't stop and the closer he came to Draco the harder it was to force himself to lie still. It was only at times like this, when he was drunk as a sailor and feeling a little over-emotional that Draco ever allowed himself to contemplate some of his more complex feelings for Potter. The ones that left him panting and trembling with lust rather than anger. He wanted Potter, whether he allowed himself to admit it or not, and now the Gryffindor was so very, very close...
Only an inch or two at most separated them now and Potter was still moving. Draco's eyes fell shut of their own accord and then finally the Gryffindor closed the last of the distance between them. Their lips met and he melted. He had meant to take it easy, let Potter set the pace, but he couldn't do it. He'd wanted this too long to simply lie back and take whatever he was given. Without his permission, his hands drifted up to tangle in thick messy hair, preventing the Gryffindor from escaping, not that he seemed to be trying to go anywhere. Potter's own hands had managed to find purchase on Draco's hips, pulling him bodily closer until they were pressed against each other from their chests down to their knees. Encouraged, Draco let his tongue brush against Potter's lips, wondering as he did so whether it would be granted entrance or bitten off. When the Gryffindor opened his mouth, inviting him in, he nearly moaned aloud, not quite able to believe that this was actually happening.
His hands twisted more firmly in Potter's hair as he attempted to devour the other boy with his lips, exploring every inch of his mouth. Their tongues stroked together as they moved even closer, pressing themselves against each other. Without really meaning to, Draco rolled them over, sprawling across Potter's prone form as he broke their kiss, only to trail his lips down the other boy's throat. The other boy whimpered as Draco bit down lightly, sucking at Potter's pulse point, before moving back up and fastening their lips together again. The Gryffindor ground up against him in response and Draco moaned as he felt the deliciously hard length pressing against him. Without thinking, he shifted their position, lining up their hips before grinding down harshly.
"Still like it rough?" Draco whispered against Potter's lips.
"Yes! Merlin, Malfoy, don't stop!"
"Wasn't going to." He muttered, shifting again to give himself space to slide a hand between their bodies.
He vaguely wondered if he should ask for permission, but hadn't Potter just told him not to stop? Pressing their lips together again, Draco's hand began tearing at the fastenings of the Gryffindor's trousers, quickly working his way beneath the layers of fabric to Potter's erection. He still half expected the other boy to panic and call a halt to the proceedings, but as soon as Draco's fingers wrapped around his length, the other boy threw his head back and keened.
"Merlin, you're beautiful." He whispered, his eyes locked on Potter's face as he writhed beneath Draco's ministrations.
The Gryffindor said nothing in response, but suddenly his hands were no longer idle. Latching onto Draco's shirt, he nearly tore the buttons off in his desperation to get to the skin beneath. As soon as Draco's chest was exposed, Potter's mouth was there, kissing and sucking at the smooth flesh. At the same time, his hands slid lower, quickly unfastening Draco's trousers and working his hand inside.
"I've never done this before." Potter whispered against Draco's throat, even as his fingers began stroking up and down Draco's length.
"I know. You're doing fine." His voice was rough as he tried to stop himself thrusting into the Gryffindor's firm grip.
"I'm not a virgin, you know."
Draco suddenly found himself biting back a giggle. "Oh?"
"I'm not." Potter drew back slightly to look at him, his hands stilling on Draco's cock.
"Ok, ok, I believe you." He pacified the Gryffindor quickly, needing him to start moving again.
"Good." The hand continued its ministrations and Draco moaned.
"Though I bet you've never had sex with a boy before." Draco retorted before he could help it, kicking himself when not only did Potter stop, he pulled back.
"No." He replied, his eyes wide. "Have you?"
"Yes." Draco only just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
"Does it feel good?"
"Well, obviously." This time Draco couldn't hold back his eye roll. "Why, do you want to find out for yourself?"
"Maybe." The Gryffindor bit his lip, looking away.
"Really?" Draco swallowed hard, surely Potter couldn't mean...
He tried to catch the other boy's gaze, but the Gryffindor was resolutely looking anywhere but at Draco. For a moment he wondered how best to sugar-coat his next question before giving up and just blurting it out.
"So you want to know what it feels like to fuck a man...?" His voice turned husky. "Or to feel a man fucking you?"
"I..." Even in the dim light of the moon Draco could see Potter blushing. "The second one."
Never in his wildest fantasies had he ever imagined that Potter could be anything other than rigidly straight. The kisses alone had been more than he'd ever thought possible, but this...?
"Will you show me?" Potter asked shyly.
Oh, Merlin. "Yes. If you're sure."
The Gryffindor nodded once, before reaching forward again, wrapping his hand around Draco's nearly painfully hard cock.
"Fuck." Draco groaned. "Stop, you have to stop."
The Gryffindor let go immediately, his expression hurt and confused. "I'm sorry, I thought... I thought you liked it."
"Of course I like it." Draco snapped before taking a deep breath, reigning in his wayward emotions and softening his tone. "I like it a lot. Too much, in fact."
"Oh." Potter licked his lips nervously. "So what do we do now?"
"First, we need to prepare you."
"How do we do that?"
"Like this." Draco told him, ducking down before the Gryffindor could react and pressing his lips against the tip of the other boy's erection.
"Fuck." Potter whispered.
Smirking, Draco lapped at the head for a moment, before sucking as much as he could manage into his mouth. Potter moaned, his fingers drifting down to tangle in Draco's hair. With his free hand, Draco shoved at the Gryffindor's trousers until they lay abandoned on the grass beside them. Settling himself more comfortably in the space between the other boy's thighs, he began to suck in earnest, bobbing his head rapidly.
Needing more skin on skin contact, Draco let his hands wander up over Potter's chest. When the Gryffindor's shirt got in the way he simply gripped the fabric between his fingers and pulled, tearing the material apart and sending buttons flying into the grass. Without halting the movement of his mouth for even a moment, Draco's hands explored the contours of the other boy's chest, tugging on each nipple in turn before smoothing his palms over the raised buds.
The Gryffindor's responses were delightfully erotic, the way he moved his hips, the way he gasped every time Draco flicked his tongue just so, the way he clutched at Draco's head, his desperation and need evident in the way he held him. When he deemed that the Gryffindor was ready, he pulled away to wandlessly conjure a handful of lubricant, returning to his previous activity before stroking one slick finger between Potter's cheeks and over his entrance. Just as he'd expected, the Gryffindor froze, much of his earlier tension returning in an instant.
"Relax." Draco told him, pressing a line of kisses across the Gryffindor's hip. "I won't hurt you."
Inexplicably, that seemed to be all Potter needed to hear and a moment later he had forced himself to unwind. Returning to the Gryffindor's cock, Draco sucked lightly as he pressed one finger inside Potter, echoing the other boy's moan of pleasure at the intrusion.
"Ok?" Draco asked, this time crawling up to lie beside the Gryffindor, meeting his eyes.
"Yes. Don't... don't stop."
"Wasn't planning on it." Draco told him, leaning forward to kiss him as he added a second finger.
Slowly, Draco slid his digits in and out, stroking and stretching with each gentle thrust. Soon Potter was moaning loudly, his hips grinding down against Draco's hand, wordlessly begging for more.
"Merlin, you have no idea how beautiful you look." Draco whispered, unable to stem the flow of words as he watched the Gryffindor writhing on the grass beside him.
"Please..." Potter murmured, opening his eyes and meeting Draco's gaze head on. "Please, Malfoy, fuck me..."
Draco groaned, his heart pounding raggedly as he moved over the Gryffindor, removing his fingers and positioning himself at the other boy's entrance. For just a moment, he hesitated, the magnitude of what they were about to do hitting him full force. This was not just a one night stand that could easily be forgotten in the bright light of day. This was Potter, this was...
The Gryffindor shifted then, pushing upwards until Draco breached him and that was all it took for Draco's fleeting flash of conscience to evaporate. His thoughts scattered as he pressed carefully forward the rest of the way, sheathing himself completely in Potter's tight heat.
"Merlin, Potter, you feel so good." Draco whispered, trembling with the effort it took to remain still long enough for the Gryffindor to adjust.
The other boy moaned in response, his legs wrapping around Draco's waist and drawing him even deeper. "Please, Malfoy."
He knew what Potter was asking for, even if he didn't know it himself. Pulling out slightly, he thrust forward slowly making the Gryffindor cry out, his hands gripping Draco's hips hard enough to bruise.
"Ok?" Draco gasped, thrusting again.
"Yes. Don't stop... Merlin..." Potter's head fell back, his hips bucking up to meet Draco's downward stroke.
Shifting his angle slightly Draco searched for the spot inside the Gryffindor that he knew would prompt even more of those breathless pleas for more. When he found it, Potter's reaction was even better than he could have imagined. The other boy's back arched, his whole body shuddering as he cried out Draco's name.
There was no holding back after that. Draco pounded the Gryffindor into the grass, relishing every moan and gasp of pleasure that he drew from the boy beneath him. He'd done this before, but it had never felt like this. His whole body felt as though it might erupt into flames at any moment, yet he still needed more. Shoving his hand between them, Draco began to stroke Potter's leaking erection, pulling even more beautifully sensual sounds from the Gryffindor. It was nearly more than he could handle, but then Potter was coming, his whole body trembling with the force of it, and Draco no longer needed to hold back. With a hoarse shout, he emptied himself into the other boy before collapsing bonelessly on top of him.
It was a long moment before Draco could find the energy to move off of the Gryffindor and even longer before either of them could find the strength to do more than stare up at the stars sucking in deep panting breaths. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Potter who moved first, reaching lazily for his discarded clothing.
"That was..." Potter whispered breathlessly, struggling back into his jeans, though he showed no other signs of the imminent departure Draco was fully expecting.
"Yeah." He agreed quietly, refastening his own trousers before taking a chance and pulling the unresisting Gryffindor back into his arms. "It was."
He couldn't quite hide his surprise when the other boy curled up against his side, his head pillowed on Draco's chest, but he was too tired to question it. As he drifted off to sleep, Potter still wrapped tightly in his embrace, he was vaguely aware that this had been one of the best nights of his life. Perhaps Hogwarts was over, but if this was a sign of things to come, maybe the future wouldn't be too bleak after all.
The first thing Draco became aware of when he awoke the following morning was the horrific amount of light battering at his closed eyelids. The next was the fact that he felt oddly cold despite the warm shape pressed up against him. Squinting, Draco tried to open his eyes enough to work out where he was. It took a moment but suddenly it all came hurtling back to him. His drunken walk down to the Quidditch pitch, running into Potter, the kisses, the caresses and... oh Merlin. He nearly moaned aloud as the recollected feel of thrusting into Potter's hot body sent an intense flash of desire through him. The Gryffindor was still asleep, it seemed, sprawled across him with his bare chest pressed against Draco's. He had a nearly overwhelming urge to run his fingers through Potter's hair, but he resisted, certain that waking him up would be a bad move. Instead he began shifting slightly, attempting to edge his way out from beneath the sleeping lion. He had almost managed it when Potter stirred. Draco froze immediately, holding his breath as he wondered how the Gryffindor would react upon waking up at dawn in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, cuddled up to his enemy.
It took Potter a while to centre himself, giving Draco plenty of time to mentally debate whether he wanted the Gryffindor to remember what had happened or not. Of course, it made little difference what Draco wanted, which was rather fortunate in a way as he still hadn't come to any sort of decision by the time the other boy finally decided to speak.
"Malfoy?" His voice was dangerously low.
"Morning, Potter." Draco kept his voice light, waiting for the explosion.
"What happened last night?"
Draco bit back a scathing retort, keeping his voice emotionless instead. "What do you remember?"
"Not a lot." Potter admitted. "What happened to my shirt?"
Draco shrugged, deciding to play dumb for the moment at least. "Maybe we had a fight?"
"It certainly feels like we did." Potter winced as he shifted, rolling off of Draco to lie beside him, staring up at the rapidly brightening sky.
He wasn't sure what to say to that, knowing exactly why Potter ached so much this morning but worried it might spoil the fragile harmony between them if he said so.
"I had the weirdest dream." Potter spoke again, sitting up and beginning to refasten the few buttons that remained attached to the front of his shirt.
"You were there and we were..." The Gryffindor stopped mid sentence, his eyes flying to Draco's face where they focused immediately on his mouth. "...Kissing."
Draco licked his lips automatically, his heart beginning to pound unevenly. Merlin but when Potter looked at him like that...
"It wasn't a dream, was it?"
All Draco could do was shake his head.
"We...? And you...? FUCK!" The other boy got unsteadily to his feet, backing away quickly.
Nearly tripping over himself in his hurry, Draco did likewise, holding out his hands to the Gryffindor. "Potter, wait..."
He shook his head manically back and forth. "You bastard. I always knew you were a peverted fucker, but this...?"
Draco wanted to argue back, after all, hadn't it been Potter who'd kissed him? But he couldn't seem to make his mouth work.
"You're disgusting, Malfoy, and you'd better stay the hell away from me. I'm glad we're leaving school. I never EVER want to see or speak to you again."
With one final venomous glare, Potter spun on his heel and stormed off towards the school. Draco watched him go until he was out of sight, then followed in his footsteps, righting his clothing on the way.
He saw Potter only once after that, back in London on Platform 9 3/4. Draco had been searching for his mother through the crush of parents, students and baggage when he found his gaze caught and held by the Gryffindor. For one long moment they stared at each other and Draco watched as a host of emotions played across Potter's face. Some he recognised; confusion, hatred, anger, some he didn't, but the final expression that twisted Potter's features was a heartbreaking mix of regret and longing. At least, that's what Draco wanted to believe he saw as the Gryffindor turned away, breaking their connection and vanishing into the crowd.