Disclaimer: Feh, I
say to you, FEH!
First line is from: Chapter One Of Habibi, a novel.
The secret kiss grew larger and larger.
That's how Draco felt. Every moment that he touched his lips with his fingers, every time he reminisced about that moment, it felt as though it were growing and in danger of consuming him. Blaise and Pansy noticed, of course, but they kept their mouths shut. What he wanted to tell them, he would.
Snape was noticing too. When the usually brash, outspoken Draco Malfoy stays quiet for three days in a row, aren't you supposed to? The Potions Master eyed his godson carefully, always watching, always making sure nothing was wrong.
The pale boy looked up, and then smirked. "Blaise. What is it?"
"We're worried, me and Pansy," the dark-haired boy stated. He closed his oddly blue-green-aqua eyes and opened them again. "We have our suspicions."
"Keep them yours."
Blaise didn't bring it up again, after that.
Nearly a week later, he was getting frustrated. At first, Draco felt as though he'd been carrying the kiss in his pocket; like a little souvenir or memento. But then it became heavier, hanging around his wrists and ankles like cinder blocks weighing him down in an ocean. He was drowning and suffocating at the same time, but no one could hear it.
This time it was Pansy, fidgeting slightly as she sat down in front of him. They were in the library. It was a Saturday.
"We can't stand this anymore! You space out during classes and meals! Is there something we should know about? What's wrong? Is it—"
"Shut up," he said, cutting her off. "You two already know what it is, I think you made that obvious enough. Gods, Pans, just leave it alone," he added, almost bitterly.
Actually, now that he thought about it, it was almost cynical. He couldn't leave it alone; why should she?
On the fourteenth day of this terrible isolation, he saw the object of his (what? Affections? Obsession?) loitering by the door of the Great Hall with friends. Draco, suddenly rooted to the spot, found himself being pushed along by Blaise.
"Go," the dark-haired Slytherin said. "I don't want to be late for Charms again. Flitwick nearly had my head off, said that just because I wanted to go be a jerk with girls didn't mean it could excuse me from classes. Old fool."
And so Draco brushed right by his Object, who gave him a wavering smile that went unnoticed by those around both of them. Draco felt crushed.
Was it really this hard to be in love?
On the twenty-third day, he was leaning outside of a random classroom, talking in low whispers to Carina Zabini, who was telling him something about her brother he was delighted to find out. The young Zabini was like a sister to him, and he slung his arm about her in a brotherly way, pulling her close as he whispered a thank-you in her ear.
When she separated from him, giggling as she pecked him on the cheek and ran off, he looked up and around. There was his Object, looking thoroughly disgruntled. At a loss for words, Draco didn't say anything. His Object moved on.
On the twenty-eighth day, he snapped. He was outside, this time, sitting by the lake with his knees drawn up to his chest and a large tome in front of him. His eyes were seeing the words, but his brain was not accepting them.
Draco turned, half-expecting this to be another (please, no) daydream, but there was his Object, already sitting next to him.
"Nice to see you haven't forgotten me," the Slytherin mumbled.
"Really? Me? Looks like you've beat me to it, though."
Draco pretended he didn't know what his Object was speaking of. "What are you talking about?"
"That girl. In the hallway a few days ago."
"Her? She's a friend."
A moment of silence, and then Draco let all of his breath out in a soft swoosh. "You sound jealous. Are you?"
"Why would I be? It was just—one kiss, right?"
"I didn't think so."
His Object cast a sidelong glance at him, and Draco chuckled dryly. "What? I can be capable of feelings. Had you been willing to find that out when we first met…"
"You ruined our first interaction yourself, Malfoy," came the soft retort.
Draco wrinkled his nose. "Don't be such a rude idiot. I was perfectly polite." The blonde ignored the snort of laughter and continued. "I was raised to be polite. It would be quite hard for me to just—throw all those years away, you know?"
Draco shifted a little so that he could stretch, and then he turned suddenly. "Another kiss, then? Just to make sure you're not jealous for long?"
In an accusing tone, "You planned this."
"I did not!" He replied, miffed. "Geez, you're so paranoid. I just…wanted to, you know…" he trailed off uncertainly, cursing himself for being so foolhardy with his approach.
But all his bemoaning was cut off as a pair of warm, soft lips covered his own, and he was pressing his Object down, whispering his Object's name as he fell into an ocean of emotions…
"Harry…" he murmured.
The green-eyed Gryffindor acknowledged this only with a hand slipped up Draco's shirt, causing the blond to shiver at the touch. Their tongues slipped out and met halfway, battling for dominance, but Draco was pleased to find that this time he won.
They came up for air halfway through their session, and Draco nuzzled Harry's neck. "Why did you wait so long?"
"Hermione and I told Ron. He sort of went berserk, and we had to wait for him to calm down. He's fine now, though."
"Granger threatened to dump him?"
"It did the trick," Harry said, smiling. "Besides, now this means we can snog in public…?"
"…More'n that," Draco mumbled as he nipped at Harry's neck. "Much, much more." Harry tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"We are not going to that in public."
"No," Draco agreed, as he pulled his head up, silver eyes gleaming. "But we will do it." He cut off any of Harry's protests with a well-timed kiss, effectively getting the Gryffindor all hot and bothered.
"Stop," Harry murmured, "We're in the courtyard of a school unable to keep any secrets."
"So let them see. We're not waiting another moment. You made me wait long enough…twenty-eight days."
"You've been counting?" Harry asked, a pitiful attempt at a joke. It obviously didn't work, as Draco silenced anything else Harry was going to say. The Gryffindor moaned into his lover's silky hair.
"What was that?" Draco asked, eyes glinting evilly. Harry rolled his own, letting his hands snake up to the Slytherin's head.
"I said, shut up and kiss me."