Rated R for a somewhat abstract sex scene.

It's not as graphic as other fics out there, so really, don't go crazy with signs and witchburning protests. Besides which why are you reading it, anyway?

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't be wasting my time here.

Malfoy!" Harry spits, storming into the compartment where Draco is sitting alone.

Draco makes him livid.

And, he is livid with rage. He can't believe the audacity Draco has to return to the school where he tried to kill someone.

Draco makes him seethe.

Harry is disgusted that, even though he appealed for Draco to escape harsh punishment, he's still allowed to step into the building where Dumbledore accepted everyone.

Draco makes him depressed.

Harry doesn't care about the plan which Snape has dutifully carried out, against his wishes. Harry doesn't care that rumour has it Draco has been forced into this mess.

Draco makes him apathetic.

Still, he feels guilty for the incident in the bathroom, and he winces under Draco's unnervingly distant eyes, which aren't even looking at him.

Draco makes him anxious.

Suddenly Draco looks up, grey eyes holding something uncertain, and Harry swallows.

Draco makes his heart pound.

He bites his lip and turns on his heel, slamming the door behind him and not noticing the small smile that Draco now has on his face.

Grey eyes unabashedly lock onto green in the middle of the rush to dinner in the Great Hall.

Harry makes him bold.

The crowd of students pushes past each other but the stare is firmly held until a barrage of people break it. When the aisle clears, grey now avoids brown as a simpering girl vies for attention.

Harry makes him sneaky.

Green eyes hastily look away as grey eyes find them again, turning towards blue and brown in an attempt to hide discomfort and bewilderment.

Harry makes him raise an eyebrow.

A smirk forms under grey eyes, and a frown forms under green. This little game has been going on ever since school started again.

Harry makes his heart pound.

Brown eyes catch grey eyes, and he falters, narrowing them at the nosy girl who dares interrupt his staring.

"Are you okay, Harry?"


"Earth to Harry!" Hermione taps Harry on the shoulder, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Huh? What?"

"I said, are you okay, Harry? You've been awfully distracted ever since the start of the year."

"It's all the work we've been getting, it's melted 'is brain," Ron nods in agreement with himself. His plate is stacked with enough food to feed a small village, and Hermione shakes her head at him.

"We haven't gotten very much, at least, not any more than we did last year." She looks at Harry again, who is sneaking a furtive glance at the Slytherin table.

Ron shrugs, then changes the subject when he sees where Harry is looking. "Wonder what's gotten Malfoy so cheerful this morning? He's up to something again, I bet."

Hermione glances over at the Slytherin table. She has her suspicions about what both Harry and Malfoy are thinking, but she'll wait. "Ignore it, Ron."

A flash of blonde hair passes by a mess of dark brown on the Quidditch pitch, and a raised eyebrow is thrown in. A tan throat swallows nervously, and a careless taunt is thrown back. Gryffindor has won, and the players are heading back inside.

"What the hell are you looking at, Malfoy?"

"You, Potter."

The open lips close abruptly, and green eyes glare coldly at grey.

"See something you like?"

A bold question. Grey eyes hold amusement that green eyes can't see, because they don't know each other at all.

"I've seen better."

A fitting comeback. Green eyes stare blankly as blonde hair disappears around a corner.

Suddenly light brown hair appears before blonde, and grey eyes hold shock momentarily before they are wiped blank with ease.

"What the hell do you want?"

"That's what I should be asking you, don't you think?"

Blonde hair steps back from light brown, before grey eyes narrow once more, and he makes to turn away, but something, possibly her grip on his shoulder, makes him turn back sourly.

"Kindly remove your hand from my person, Granger."

"Not on your life."

He eyes her warily. He certainly tolerates her more than the Weasel, but he doesn't quite understand what the hell she's after.

He hears Pansy calling for him, and visibly shudders. Suddenly he hears cheers for a certain green-eyed Gryffindor, and he makes to move again.

Her look stops him.

"Ignore it, Malfoy."

"Harry, really. What's gotten into you lately?" Hermione corners him in the Common Room one night. She needs to know his side of it, and she is instantly rewarded as Harry spits out the truth without any prompting.

"It's...Malfoy," he says hesitantly.

Hermione sits next to him and turns his shoulders so he's actually looking at her, and not speaking to the fireplace.

"What has he done?" she asks gently.

Draco makes him anxious.

Harry frowns slightly, more to himself than to her. "He keeps...staring at me. And making...these weird comments. Weird...double entendres and weird looks." Harry looks at the fireplace again, obviously confused and obviously torn between wanting what he wants and wanting what's expected.

Draco makes his head hurt.

Hermione smiles to herself. She's spoken to him before, made him spit out his intentions. She doesn't know the truth behind his family, or his involvement in the war, but she knows what he wants.

"Ignore it, Harry."

Pale hands trace their way up a tan torso, slipping their way under a shirt. The darker-haired boy has been cornered in an empty hallway, the price to pay for wandering the school at night. Light pink lips nip gently at his earlobes, the pulse point at his neck, his bottom lip.

Hands push at the other body, and dark brown hair shakes a 'no'. The grip of the blonde tightens around a solid waist.

Harry makes him smirk.

An eyebrow above grey eyes rises. The paler boy leans in and breathes warm air against his skin, and he shudders, the pushing becoming a pulling as lips descend upon lips once more. The blonde is pushed away again.

"Wait." It comes out as a whisper. There is an exasperated sigh, and grey eyes lock onto green once more, darker and heated.


"We can't."


A tan body slips away, dark hair moving quickly down the corridor. Grey eyes turn downwards.

Harry makes his heart shatter.

One young man corners another in an abandoned room of what used to be Hogwarts.

"You tried to kill him." Green eyes flash accusingly.

"I didn't want to." It comes out as a hoarse whisper. A vial of veritaserum is thrust into pale hands.

"Five truths. There's enough for five truths." It's a demand more than it is a statement. But it's a start, a chance.

"God you're an annoying bastard, even when you've just killed the biggest threat to the magic community. Oh yes, I saw," he adds as green eyes widen. "Will this get you to shut up and accept things as the way they are? Scarhead?"

A tan body jolts from the childhood insult, and he nods, trying to settle his stomach.

Draco makes him nervous.

Shouting is heard from outside the assaulted school, and the earth shakes with rage-filled magic. The ground thrums in response, and yet Hogwarts remains standing.

The vial is opened, the liquid downed. Grey never leaves green.

"I didn't want to," he repeats, pleadingly. The other man stiffens.

"I wanted to save my mother."

The building shakes, ever so slightly, and a window somewhere nearby shatters.

"I don't...I'm not a Death Eater."

A sleeve is pulled up, and a pale, unblemished arm is bared.

The other man relaxes slightly.

"I killed my father." The whisper is lost into a terrifying cracking sound, like lightning hitting the side of the school. Maybe it is.

Harry lifts his chin defiantly. "That's four." The unspoken question hangs in the air even as sunlight breaks through to the room and more shouts are heard outside.

"I love you."

Draco makes his heart explode.

Pale skin holds tan against a cold stone wall. Lips crash onto lips, a disturbingly familiar sensation, but hungrier somehow, more urgent. Messy dark hair is thrown to the side as lips pull away from lips, and a frustrated sound escapes the attacker's throat.

Harry makes him irritated.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! This is wrong! This is just too weird! What's gotten into you, you psycho?! If you think I'm gonna be another conquest, or if you've been ordered to ... to do ... things to me, I swear I-"

"You really don't understand, " comes the angry interruption, "do you, Harry?"

He swallows. His name is ground out with much effort, and he struggles rather effectively against his captor, flinging him off and slamming the slender body against the opposite wall of the corridor. Blonde hair bangs against stone, and muscles wince under pale skin.

Harry makes him bleed.

"Well why don't you spell it out for me, Draco, if you're so eager to share?"

His tone becomes bitter. "What does it matter?"

Frustrated, tan hands grip pale wrists painfully. "If it doesn't matter, then why have you been acting completely off your rocker for the entire year?!"

Harry makes him confused.

There is a sigh, and then the barriers are thrown up just as green eyes catch a look of anxiety.

"I don't understand," he whispers, echoing the angry retort from earlier.

"That's okay," comes the quiet reply, "because neither do I."

The air is rent with loud cheers, which drown echoes of rage and sorrow that permeated the building only moments ago. They have only just realised their saviour has defeated the Dark Lord, and all around them Death Eaters fall and beg for mercy, while Dementors are dispersed and various other allies of Voldemort are taken care of.

Five small statements have rocked Harry to the core in a way no battle could; his perceptions, his assumptions, his thoughts and his judgements have all been shattered and muddled into the one incoherent thought which makes him laugh even as Draco gives him a worried look because he's been standing there staring at Draco's nose for the past ten minutes without saying anything.

"Um, P-Ha—Potter?"

Harry immediately stops laughing and looks at him gravely, because for all their little secret touches and wild kisses that neither of them wanted because they weren't supposed to, he feels rather affronted at the sudden reversion to last names.

Draco only smiles, a small, disarming gesture which has Harry blurting out his one incoherent thought.

"You have a girly nose!"

He looks horrified, and Draco is taken aback, a slender, pale eyebrow raising itself to give a look of utter confusion. It looks cute and Harry says so, and all of a sudden they're kissing.

Draco makes him feel.

They don't know when it started, and they don't care anymore.

There is a magical fissure, and Hogwart's wards are dropped from too much pressure. Pale eyebrows wiggle suggestively at green eyes, and are met with a smile. A loud crack resounds through the room as they disapparate, appearing by a bed covered in black and green cotton, because silk is too cliché and cotton seems more normal.

He isn't too sure about where he is, but all he knows is he has an armful of ex-Slytherin whose naughty mouth has descended upon his neck. He cries out and tries to return the favour, earning a strangled gasp when he boldly runs a hand over light pink nipples.

Hands ghost over smooth skin as clothing is removed, and the darker boy arches into the touch. In a welcome familiarity, lips crash onto lips, eliciting identical moans as their shifting around causes friction which neither has experienced before. Not like this, anyway.

The remaining clothing is shed and the two take a moment to stare, to take in the form of their lover. Suddenly there is a brief fight for dominance, complete with tongues and biting and sucking and touching, and there are hands and feet and limbs and lips everywhere and everything explodes in unexpected ecstasy.

Their sweaty bodies go still from the shock and then they laugh, the sound warming up the already humid room, and a tan hand cups a light cheek as their foreheads touch together softly. There is silence, save for their erratic breathing, as they recuperate and let their heartbeats pick up a normal pace.

Tentatively, a slender hand reaches down and runs a finger along the darker-haired boy. His breath hitches, and he returns the favour, getting a mewl as a reward. It's sticky, awkward and strange, and neither one seems to give a damn.

Draco makes him moan.

Blonde hair drops downward as sinfully bruised lips kiss a trail to the base of his erection and he moans, lightly pulling on the platinum locks as a tongue licks over those lips, brushing over him and making him close his eyes. He babbles incoherently, expletives and 'oh god's leaving his lips and he sits up suddenly because he doesn't want it over so soon again.

A pale eyebrow rises yet again, and green eyes roll as he points out how often his lover does it. He hesitates now that he's stopped the insanely welcome torture because he's not quite sure what to do or say.

"Harry," comes the whisper.

He is slowly coaxed into position behind a pale back, and he stiffens because his mind has stopped working and he doesn't know what to do.

Harry makes him impatient.

He is pulled into a kiss, his chest pressing into the back of his pale-eyed ... boyfriend? Yes, he likes the sound of that. He seems to vaguely recall what he's meant to be doing, now, and as he slowly, carefully, lovingly prepares his unlikely lover, he revels in the sounds his blonde, grey-eyed beauty is making.

Some of the noises have more than interesting effects on his mind and body and he slaps a hand over a light pink mouth. There are sounds of muffled protest, and irritated grey eyes that hold a clouded look catch his.

"You...have to stop making those noises," he grinds out, because he's not sure how long he can hold on before he loses control.

He can feel the mouth under his hand forming a pout, and he cautiously removes his fingers.

"Why? Don't you like them?"

The question is accompanied by what is by far the most heated, passionate look he's ever seen, and he chokes on what he suspects is drool. He has to put a hand on a slender hip to keep himself upright, and somehow he forces the words out.

"No, of course I don't, I'm only trying to keep myself from thoroughly-"

His words are cut off by a tender kiss, and spells are whispered against his lips before the body before him is thrust back into him. Around him.

He gasps and forgets what oxygen is.

Draco makes him breathless.

The air is filled with sighs and grunts and moans and cries that could be names, expletives or 'oh FUCK's or all of the above and more. Skin on skin, sinfully erotic noises and nothing but white moonlight to see, nothing but darkness to hear.

There is fullness, and tightness, and far too many new sensations which wreak havoc on the mens' bodies. The world shatters once more into an ecstasy far greater than before, and cries of completion and incoherant noises that could be names loudly explode, before silence.

A tan arm weaves its way around a pale body, and they lock eyes. Whispered 'I love you's and genuine smiles are shared briefly before sleep takes them.

Harry makes him love.