He was lonely; plain and simple. No parents, no godfather, and now, no best friends. Of course, as Harry dragged his feet along Wisteria Walk, he had no tears left to spare for Ron and Hermione anymore. They had all been shed, and he couldn't bear to think of it anymore. Mentally shaking himself, Harry turned toward one of his favourite haunts – the playground.

The sun was fully set now, and the street lights were flickering on around him. As he neared the park, a figure caught his eye. He came closer, and the person was revealed to be sitting on Harry's favourite swing. Cursing him, Harry proceeded to the boy with the though of telling him off.

Harry stopped five feet from the boy. The boy looked up through his long, blonde hair with grey eyes. Instantly, Harry recognized him. Sighing heavily, he took the swing next to his archenemy.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

The Slytherin wrapped an arm around the chain and looked up at Harry. "You," he replied. No sign of a smirk, no sneer, and he wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man.

Harry stared blankly back, hoping against hope that this conversation was going where he thought it was going.

"Malfoy -"

"Harry," Draco interrupted, "call me Draco."

Harry looked at him comprehension dawning as his wishes began to come true, one by one.

Draco sighed and got up from the swing, turning to look at Harry with burning desire in his eyes. He said something to Harry, but his words were drowned by a truck rumbling past on the street.


"I'm in love with you," Draco repeated.

Harry lit up as Draco said those words. He jumped up from the swing and shouted, at the top of his lungs, "I'm in love with you, too!"

Draco beamed. He took Harry in his arms and they kissed passionately before someone behind them coughed. Turning around, they saw a young mother with her child looking queerly at the two teenagers. Both boys blushed furiously, and Draco took Harry's hand.

"I know where we can go," he whispered in Harry's ear. They left the park, hand in hand, running down the main road. As they neared a run down apartment complex, Draco reached into his pocket and drew out a key.

"I'm living on my own now," he said, fumbling with the latch of the door.

"I'm sorry about your parents," Harry blurted out.

Draco shook his head sadly, opening the door. "Don't be," he said, "I'm not."

Harry stayed silent, closing the apartment door behind him.

"Lock it," Draco shouted from what could only be the only bedroom in the small, undecorated apartment.

Harry obliged, and the dead-bolt's click echoed through the barren room, exciting the nerves of both young men.

"Are you coming?" Draco asked, somewhat impatiently as he stuck his head and bare shoulders out of the door. "I've waited for this since second year –" he pouted, "- you don't want me to wait any longer, do you?"

Harry smiled. It wasn't one he had ever used before, and fit this occasion perfectly. "I'm coming," he said, leaving his shoes beside Draco's and making his way down to the rest of the night.

As Harry pushed open the door, he found Draco, clad only in his jeans, kneeling on the bed. Both of their features lit up, while they began feeling the effects of this "date".

"You're beautiful," Harry whispered, making his way over to Draco.

"So are you," Draco breathed, cupping Harry's face in his hands and kissing him passionately. As Draco's tongue slid under Harry's he moaned, wrapping his arms around the other boy's waist. Pulling Harry closer he moaned again, running one of his ice-cold hands up Harry's back.

Harry shivered at Draco's touch, and wound his hands through Draco's silky blonde hair. Fighting for breath, Harry pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, searching Harry's green eyes.

"This," he replied, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the floor.

"Oh my god," Draco breathed, running his hands over Harry's body. He took a breath, intending to say something, but before he could get the words out Harry leaned into him, kissing his roughly, and tongue fighting vigorously against Draco's.

They fell back onto the bed, groping at each other's zippers, determined to make this a night neither of them would forget. As Harry's tongue ran along Draco's sharp jaw line, Draco's face contorted with fury and frustration.

"Fuck," he murmured, still fighting with Harry's jeans.

"Here," Harry said, sitting up on his knees, one on either side of Draco's thin hips, and undoing his pants. "Better?" he asked, pulling Draco's off and fondling him.

Draco moaned, sliding Harry's boxers off and adding them to the pile on the floor. "Much," he whispered as Harry leant in for a fresh attack.

As Harry's tongue moved its way down to Draco's collarbone, Draco moaned, arching his back. As Harry traced Draco's collarbone with his tongue, his eyes flickered up to Draco's face. Draco placed his hands around Harry's face and pulled him up, kissing him over and over, turning over.

With Draco on top the sex took a new turn. The kisses became shorter, more random, and bites were often accompanied by them. Their hands groped, squeezed, and stroked where ever possible. The apartment echoed with sounds of passionate love-making, and the temperature rose dramatically.

Sweating profusely, their tongues fought again violently, and both moaned as Draco pushed himself into Harry. Harry reacted by arching his back and almost clawing at Draco.

It went on like that for what seemed like hours before Harry lost all control. A whispered "oh my god," accompanied the wave of come form Harry.

"Fuck, yes," Draco moaned as he pushed harder into the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry stroked Draco before he too, came, and they both moaned in delight, the sex heightened to a new level.

After what seemed like hours, Harry finally rested his head on Draco's chest, listening to their combined heartbeats. Every one of his wildest fantasies had come true, and wished with all that he had that it would last.

They lied in silence like that for half an hour, catching their breaths and soaking each other in. Finally, Harry broke the silence.

"Thank you."

Draco looked down at him, finding himself one hundred and ten percent in love with the Gryffindor on his chest.

"I love you, Harry," Draco whispered, running his still-trembling fingers through Harry's sweat-soaked hair. "More than you'll ever know."

Harry pulled himself up to kiss Draco tenderly on the lips. "I love you too, Draco."

They kissed again and again, more tenderly and loving than ever before.

"Oh, and Harry," Draco said pulling Harry into a loving embrace and whispering in his ear; "Happy birthday."