I am so sorry. This story is not dead, as you see. It has been MONTHS, no. . . almost a YEAR seen I've updated this story, so I apologize profusely. So, onto chapter eight.
Harry lounged about in some of his new clothes, a pair of black pinstriped pants and an unbuttoned green shirt that matched his eyes. He marveled at how his wings felt not a bit constricted by the silky fabric. He flexed them upwards, smiling, and then flapped them a bit, sending some loose papers scuttling across the floor. Draco was still in the Great Hall, finishing up his dinner and catching up with his Slytherin friends. He yawned and idly wondered if there was anything else he could do to keep him entertained. He had settled in front of the fire place, and was contentedly watching the flames pop and crackle when Draco ambled in.
"You look nice in Slytherin colors," he purred sexily, sauntering up to where Harry was and kneeling.
Harry frowned and turned away, which made Draco's sexy smile vanish. "Honestly, Harry," Draco said with more than a little exasperation, "you take house rivalry far too seriously."
Harry turned back over, glowering. "That's not it," he snapped.
Draco looked abashed. "Of course it isn't," he murmured. He remained kneeling for a bit, face flushed and looking upset, before standing.
Harry sighed. "You're pissed."
"I wish you would tell me what the hell is wrong," he stated simply. "I am pissed. I. . . care about you, you know. And I haven't kept anything from you." He spun around, looking thoroughly displeased. "What is it that you're letting get in the way of us?"
Harry pulled his wand out from his back pocket and ran his fingers up its length. He looked at Draco tiredly and sat up. "Come here," he said quietly.
Draco settled himself in Harry's arms, listening to Harry take a few deep breaths. "The sorting hat. . . wanted to put me in Slytherin."
Draco said nothing.
"But. . . I remember having met you just before the sorting and. . . Well, please don't take offense, but--"
"You didn't like me at the time. Com on, Harry. I don't have any delusions about how we felt about each other before this year."
Harry smiled weakly. "Well, then I'll tell you up front. I pleaded with the hat 'Not Slytherin, not Slytherin'. The hat told me that Slytherin could help me on my way to greatness. But I had been told that there wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."
Now Draco did scoff. "/What? Who the hell told you that nonsense?"
Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, frowning. "It's not important. What is important is that the hat listened to me and I was sorted into Gryffindor instead."
"Well, I still don't see what the problem is. I mean, sure, I've never heard of anyone convincing the hat it shouldn't be in a particular house, but that still doesn't explain why you tense up every time I mention Slytherin," Draco said petulantly, bottom lip sticking out just slightly, begging to be kissed. Harry resisted the temptation(1).
"You're right, that's not it. Well, not completely."
Draco waited for Harry to elaborate.
"I'm sure you already know this. . . but Voldemort was in Slytherin."
Draco sighed in exasperation. "I may have told you this before, Harry, but he's no reflection on you."
"Isn't he?" Harry snapped. He wished he hadn't when he saw the hurt look on Draco's face. Sighing, he continued, "Sorry, but you know that I'm a Parslemouth because of him. When his curse hit me. . . instead of dying, I acquired a bit of his power."
"It's not surprising," Draco said, kissing Harry's cheek softly. Harry shivered at the velvety soft feel of Draco's cool lips against his flushed skin. "To have survived the Killing Curse. . . well, I think it's obvious that you wouldn't have come away from that with just a scar."
Harry smiled again, cuddling Draco closer to his chest. "I'm not finished, love. The day that you met me. . . was the same day I got my wand." Harry was still holding the slender bit of wood in his right hand. "Mr. Ollivander. . . he told me that he's never forgotten a single wand he's ever sold." Harry sighed deeply. Here they were, at the heart of the matter. There was no turning back. Only. . . he had never told /anyone/ this. He thought it fitting that his lover would be the first to know. "Dumbledore's phoenix, Faux, gave up two feathers to be put into wands. One of them is in here," he said, voice shaking slightly. Draco's long pale fingers touched his wand gently, fingers curling around Harry's. "And the other one . . . was put into the wand that gave me this," he finished with a whisper, fingering his scar.
Draco was still and quiet for a long moment, their hands still twined around Harry's wand. He shifted until he was straddling the darker boy and cupped Harry's face in his hands. "Oh, Harry," was all he said.
It was all he needed to, really. Harry allowed himself to be comforted by the feel and smell of Draco pressed firmly against him and let out a shaky breath, one that he hadn't realized he had been holding.
He must have fallen asleep in Draco's arms, because when he next opened his eyes, they were in bed together, tangled in a mass of soft feathers and pale flesh. He watched Draco as he slept, admiring the pale boy's sharp features. It was a face he was becoming rather fond of. He admired the dark smear of black that Draco's eyelashes made against his porcelain skin and the way the corners of his pink lips turned down slightly, still pouting in whatever dream it was he was having.
Harry thought idly about how beautiful they must look together, Draco's light form to Harry's dark one. Not that Harry really considered himself to be all that attractive, but Draco never complained, always made him feel wanted and that was certainly a self-esteem booster. Funny how he never thought Draco to be the one to make him feel like he did.
They had a lot ahead of them. Harry wasn't sure he was ready for it, wasn't even sure how he really felt about the whole thing. But, thinking about his past occurrences at school, about the rows he had gotten into his friends over something or another each year, he realized that this ordeal was really quite different than all the others. /This/ time he had the support of all his friends, the headmaster, Snape, of all people, and most surprisingly. . . the Malfoys.
He sighed again, content for the moment, still admiring Draco's still clothed body beside his. He would never say that Draco looked like an angel. He did, really, but Harry knew better than to fall for his large blue eyes and soft exterior. Draco was more of an incubus, and would no doubt be pleased by Harry saying so.
For a fleeting moment, Harry wondered what Draco saw when he looked at Harry through those blue eyes. But as he listened to Draco's heartbeat next to his own, he decided that it didn't really matter.
1 Sorry guys, I know how much you were looking forward to some boy on boy action.
Well, that's it. No major lemons, no MPreg, just some nice fluffy WAFF to curl up to. I may continue it at some later date, I might forget it about it completely. If any of you want, if any of you are still even reading this, you can go ahead and continue it, but please link back to me rather than posting my chapters on your own site and please send me a link so I can read it. This has been my most reviewed and most favorited story, and I would like to thank all of you who took the time to do so.
I realize now how out of character Harry and Draco have been in this story and how much my writing style has changed since I started this story. I thank all of you who have put up with me, who have reviewed and have added me as a favorite author or have added this story to their favorites.
Hugs all around!