Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one and no money is being made with this –I even doubt anyone would pay for this. I am just a fan like the rest of us are, and that's the exact reason why this site is called fan. =)
A/N: This just sort of popped in my head while I was staring into space the other day, so… yeah…
By the way, I just want to make some things clear. There isn't an eighth year. It's just that some authors make up an extra year because Harry wasn't even in school during the seventh book –except for the parts at the end- and I'm one of those authors… so… yeah.
Warnings: Do I even need to include this? It's Drarry, so you know what lies ahead…
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
Forgive and reach out a hand, forget and try to understand…
Harry stepped into the familiar but also slightly-changed Great Hall and was immediately welcomed by a round of applause and some loud cheers. He grinned and scanned the Hall; the four long House tables were still there, though they seemed brighter and the wood was more polished than before, along with the benches. The ceiling was still the same, but the effect it gave wasn't as realistic as before. The sky Harry saw now when he looked up was just a simple light blue with a few white puffs, unlike before when it really made you feel as though you were outside the grounds. Candles were still floating, although they weren't lit in the day anymore, torches lined the walls, said walls had changed color, and the banners of the four Houses were now located at the front, just above the staff table, with the symbol of Hogwarts in the middle.
The wood under Harry's feet was shiny, and not to mention slippery, so he refrained his urge to thunder up towards the Gryffindor table and see how his fellow so-called "eighth-years" had coped up. It was their first day back, after all. He walked with a little more speed instead, pausing by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table to give a little nod at the ones whom he knew personally. Luna Lovegood beamed at him positively, still with the dreamy look in her eyes, and Ernie Macmillan gave him a thumbs-up sign. He shifted his gaze.
Harry halted abruptly and saw that the number of students by the Slytherin table was fewer then ever. There were probably only about thirty of them, and seven of those Slytherins were in Harry's year. They didn't look the least bit happy at all, being dragged back to the school to re-do their seventh year, which was referred to as their eighth year. Surprisingly, though, some of the younger students clad in black and dark green robes were nodding at Harry, and there was one who actually gave him a smile. Not knowing what he was supposed to do, he also gave them a nod.
He scanned that table curiously; Blaise Zabini was looking bored as he played with his treacle tart using his fork, Theodore Nott was giving him an odd look before he lowered his head and buried his nose in a book, Pansy Parkinson was frowning as she flipped idly through the pages of her copy of the Daily Prophet, leaning her head against the shoulder of the boy next to her who had white-blond hair.
Draco Malfoy was staring openly at Harry, and the Gryffindor raised an eyebrow at him. Draco gave a curt nod of his head then stood up abruptly, nearly causing Pansy to topple down the bench.
Using her right hand as support, she grabbed Draco's sleeve with her left, giving him a quizzical look. Draco just shook his head and turned to leave, giving Harry one last nod. He stormed out of the Great Hall with a few curious glances being thrown at his back, including one from Harry. He stared at the entrance, half-expecting the blond to come back.
What the bloody hell was that all about?
Before his mind could process an explanation for Draco Malfoy's actions, however, a hand was pulling him down and, next thing he knew, he was sitting down between his best friend and his ex-girlfriend who was the younger sister of said best friend. Ginny Weasley handed him a plate full of roasted chicken and a goblet of pumpkin juice while saying "Eat up" and Ron was leaning into his ear, whispering, "Malfoy didn't do anything funny to you, did he?"
"No," Harry answered. He looked at Ron and saw the familiar light brown bushy hair that belonged to his other best friend, Hermione Granger, sitting right beside him. She was absorbed in reading a textbook entitled How to Defend Yourself Mentally: A Guide to Basic Occlumency.
"Oh," Ron said, before shoving a spoonful of baked potatoes into his mouth. "Just tell me if he's being all suspicious again, okay?"
Harry nodded. The topic about Draco Malfoy was soon forgotten, however, when Seamus Finnigan started yelling across the Gryffindor table about a bet on who will play against each other for the first Quidditch match of the season, accompanied by the giggles of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom's laugh, and Dean Thomas's loud screaming of "Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, Five Galleons!"
Harry and Ron joined in their conversation and finished the rest of their meal in laughter.
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
Three weeks later Dean's pocket was already full of Galleons which he had won from the bet. He was right.
The announcement was made two weeks into the start of school and it was a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Harry's team consisted of him as the Captain and Seeker, Ron as Keeper, Dean, Ginny and this one girl two years under Harry as Chasers, and two tall and well-built boys a year under Harry as Beaters.
When the day of the match came, Harry didn't feel nervous at all, even in the slightest bit. Perhaps being face-to-face with death removed all sense of nervousness within him. He ate breakfast and then went to the locker rooms to change into their Quidditch robes.
"Good luck, everyone," he said to the people in the room with him. He gripped his Firebolt and marched outside, his team in tow. They were greeted by loud screams, whether of support or not they were not sure. The cheers of encouragement and boo's were overlapping with each other making it hard to determine who was supporting who.
By the other end of the pitch, Harry saw seven people clad in green robes emerge. Draco was in the lead, holding his Nimbus Two Thousand and One in his left hand. The two teams approached each other, and Harry and Draco gripped each other's hands when the referee said, "Captain, shake hands."
"I see you made it back to the team, Malfoy. And as captain?" Harry whispered with a small grin.
"They figured I'm too valuable to lose and too bloody talented to not be captain," Malfoy answered in his familiar drawl, smirking, but with less malice this time.
They let go of each other's hands.
"Mount your brooms!"
The fourteen players climbed on their broomsticks, Harry and Draco eyeing each other. The whistle sounded, and they all shot up in the air like arrows.
"Ooh… I see the game has started!" Luna Lovegood's voice echoed from the stands. Harry made a quick glance towards her and laughed. So they had made Luna commentator again. "So… It's Ginny who has this ball thingy –you know, the one you need to shoot into those hoops."
"Quaffle," Mrs. McGonagall said.
"Yeah, Quaffle. My, don't you think Ginny's pretty today? Well, when isn't she pretty?"
"Ms. Lovegood, please commentate about the game!"
"Okay. Oh, Ginny scored! Good for her… wait, look! That cloud up there looks like a bunny!"
Mrs. McGonagall sighed.
Harry flew around the pitch, looking down at him for any sign or hint of a golden shimmer. Draco was right below him, zooming past the other players with ease. Harry had to admire how much Draco had improved in Quidditch. His movements were almost professional, yet still with that grace and elegance only a Malfoy could perfect. He looked up and saw Harry, then he smirked and resumed his Snitch-Seeking.
Gryffindor was ahead, but only by twenty points. The score was sixty-forty. It wasn't because Ron's Keeping skills had dropped, it's just that the Slytherin Chasers had improved, and among them were Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. It seemed that Draco was a good captain.
Luna had stopped commentating entirely and was instead discussing how Nargles can affect your Quidditch skills. Dean had scored twice, Ginny thrice, the other girl once, and the Gryffindor was now in the lead with a hundred and twenty points. Blaise caught the Quaffle, was knocked out of his hand by Ginny, but was knocked out of her hand by Theo, who scored one past Ron. Ron defended five more times and missed two times.
The score was now a hundred and twenty-seventy.
A hundred and twenty-eighty…
A hundred and thirty-ninety…
A hundred and forty to a hundred and ten…
A Bludger came flying in Harry's direction, sent by Goyle who was one of the Slytherin's Beaters, but he dodged it quickly. One of the Gryffindor Beaters saw this and he aimed one at Goyle's face. It hit directly into his nose.
Harry opened his mouth to laugh, but the sound never came out. He saw it, finally, in the grass below the stands. It was a gleaming little golden ball, fluttering its wings almost invisibly.
And Draco saw it as well.
With a start the two zoomed downwards, almost lying flat on their brooms. The wind was sweeping Harry's hair into his face, and if it weren't for his glasses he was quite certain his eyes would sting. Draco's arm was outstretched. He was gaining on the Snitch. With a brief moment of panic, Harry bumped his broom into Draco's side, throwing his arm out of the way. The snitch went lower. It seemed to have sensed something was chasing it. The two Seekers were diving now, and they were sure to crash. They were so close to each other, and Harry caught a faint scent of cologne and shampoo, and then it was gone. The dive was so sharp that Draco pulled up just in time, in fear that he might crash. Harry, however, did not pull up but instead he jumped off of his broom. The Snitch was there, right in front of him. He stretched his arm out, and his fingers brushed the smooth ball. Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back on the grass, looking up at the sky with a furious flutter of wings inside his fist. Luna was right. That cloud did look like a bunny. And the other one oddly resembled a ferret.
There was a moment of silence, then the crowd erupted into cheers. "Ooh, Gryffindor won by two-hundred and ninety to a hundred and fifty!" Luna exclaimed.
Harry's teammates were flying towards him, but Draco got there first. Still lying on his back, Harry saw Draco's outline block his view of the bunny and ferret-shaped clouds. His hair was tousled and his gray eyes were bright. The Nimbus Two Thousand and One was being gripped tightly by his left hand, and his right hand was clenched into a fist. "Hey, Malfoy, look behind you. That cloud looks like a ferret," Harry said. He expected a hex or a fist to his face, but it never came. Instead, what happened next was so shocking, Harry thought he hit his head pretty hard and was imagining things.
Draco's arm was outstretched towards him. He was offering his hand to Harry, and it was… well… shocking. Harry accepted it a bit hesitantly, his fingers closing around Draco's lightly. The blond pulled him up to his feet effortlessly. The words that came out of the Slytherin's mouth were equally shocking, if not more. "Nice game, Potter."
"Ah… thanks?" Harry said, unsure. Was this a trap or something?
Draco smiled, then without another word, walked off. Harry was frozen to his place, the Snitch still beating its wings in his closed fist. He wasn't exactly sure when his teammates arrived, but they were by his side now, their voices mixing with one another.
"Good job, mate!"
"That move was so bloody awesome!"
"What did Malfoy say?"
"Mate, what exactly happened?"
Harry recognized that as his best mate's voice, and he turned his head slowly to face a worried-looking Ron. "I don't know myself, either." Harry looked at the Slytherin team, but Draco wasn't there anymore. Then, he added somewhat unconsciously, "He smelled nice, though."
He did not see Ron gape at him.
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
Harry laid on his bed, staring up at the dark. He held the hawthorn wand in his hand, rolling it in his fingers. He had forgotten about returning this.
Draco's behavior to him these past few days had been… odd. He didn't taunt Harry and the other Gryffindors anymore. He mostly kept to himself, but sometimes he was seen hanging around with Blaise. He was even… nice.
Harry groaned and rolled to his side, pressing the heels of his palm to his eyes. What was Draco up to? Surely he had a hidden motive for his actions. He was a Slytherin after all. Darn… this was somewhat like sixth year all over again. He was obsessing over Draco bloody Malfoy, wondering what the bloody hell he was up to. Grunting, Harry sat upright and drew the curtains of his four-poster back. He jumped off of his bed and went to his trunk, rummaging around for a square piece of parchment and making quite sure he made little noise as possible so as not to wake up the others in his room.
"A-ha…" he whispered, pulling out an old parchment. Closing his trunk, he climbed back up on his bed and unfolded the parchment. He pulled his curtains closed and, using Draco's wand, tapped the yellowish paper, saying, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
The Marauder's Map lay before him. He scanned it for the dot that belonged to Draco Malfoy, and he easily located it at the dungeons. He was in the Slytherin dorm room, without a doubt sleeping, but Harry wanted to make sure. He stared at the dot for a few minutes, but it didn't move at all. Not even a stir. With a resigned-sounding sigh, Harry tapped the map again and whispered, "Mischief managed."
The writings disappeared.
He shoved the map under his pillow and fell back down, his dark-haired head sinking into the soft pillow. He raised his hand holding the wand, bringing it within eye level. He examined it, felt it, played with it, and when he felt exhaustion dominating his senses and sleep threatening him, he decided to return it tomorrow.
He fell asleep clutching the wand to his chest.
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
Harry awoke early the following day, feeling slightly put-off. Something was digging into his flesh and it hurt, and when he looked down he saw Draco's wand gripped tightly in his hand. The pointed end was jabbing into his ribs and he winced. Then, realizing that it was Draco's wand he was holding, he sat bolt upright and looked around him. It was a bloody ridiculous hour for a Sunday, and the others were still asleep. Harry frowned.
He tried to remember what he had been doing last night to end up clutching onto Draco's wand as though his dear life depended on it, and he recalled with a silent "oh". He stared down at the hawthorn in his hand and heaved a sigh.
What was happening to his brain?
Okay, this was seriously like sixth year all over again, when he was obsessing with the blond Slytherin. Now, though, he was obsessing over him for completely different reasons. With another heavy sigh, Harry got up on his feet and dragged himself towards the bathroom, Draco's wand lying on the bed. Harry glanced over his shoulder and glared at it briefly, as though it was the wand's fault his mind was like shit.
He then proceeded to the bathroom and took a nice, long shower, trying to think things through over the warmth of the spray and steam.
Merlin, what was wrong with him? Draco was actually trying to make things right for once. He wasn't fighting anymore, and he had even been somewhere very close to nice, and coming from the pale Slytherin, that was a remarkable feat indeed. But why? Harry just can't shake this feeling off that Draco had a hidden agenda. He was a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake! That thing in itself was suspicious enough. But perhaps Harry was over thinking things. What if Draco really wanted to call a truce?
Harry snorted at the idea.
He would only believe it if Draco actually apologized to him first, face-to-face.
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
To say Harry was shocked was an understatement.
It was lunch and instead of being inside the Great Hall, Harry was at the top of the Astronomy tower with Draco Malfoy of all people. Harry was slightly unnerved by his surroundings. He had quite some memories in this place, and most of them weren't pleasant.
Draco was shifting from foot to foot which was very odd, because usually the blond was calm and collected. His eyes were also shifting almost nervously, roaming around the room but never settling on Harry, who was five feet away from him. "Err…"
"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked –almost snapped.
Draco looked at him for the briefest moment and then turned his gaze away again, blowing out a puff of breath.
Cue in Harry being shocked. So shocked, actually, that he wasn't able to move or speak or even think for a few minutes.
Draco was now looking at him, directly in his eyes. Light gray met emerald green, and at the back of Harry's mind he wondered where Draco's sudden courage came from. He wasn't a Gryffindor. And he also wondered why the bloody hell Draco was apologizing all of a sudden. He wasn't a Hufflepuff, either.
After a few tense seconds, with neither of the two talking or even moving, Harry found his tongue. "Pardon?" he asked, voice cracking.
Draco blushed. "Oh, come on Potter. You heard me the first time; don't make me say it again!"
"Sorry, but… I wasn't quite sure whether what I heard was right," Harry said. He was staring at Draco, no doubt. But he just can't help it. Draco had his head turned slightly, his gray eyes shifting constantly from Harry to the floor and they appeared to be bright. That, plus his cheeks were a light shade of pink, which was very noticeable due to the paleness of his face and his lips were curled into a cute little pout. How could Harry not stare when the blond's being this… this… adorable?
"I'm sorry, Potter. For everything. And I mean it," Draco whispered, very silently Harry almost didn't hear a word of it. He did, though, and he asked before he could stop himself.
At that, Draco scowled. Now there was the Slytherin Harry knew and loved.
The Slytherin Harry knew and loved to make fun of, he corrected himself.
"Why, Potter? Because I did something wrong. You don't have to be a bloody know-it-all Ravenclaw to figure that one out," Draco said, crossing his arms against his chest.
Harry resisted the urge to laugh and roll his eyes at the pale man in front of him. "Why are you apologizing now?"
"Because it's lunch and your little group of worshippers-"
"They're not worshippers, they're my friends," Harry interjected but Draco continued on as though no one had interrupted him.
"-wouldn't be with you. You haven't the slightest clue how bloody difficult it is to get you alone. Besides, I needed to gather up the guts to apologize. I'm not like you sentimental Gryffindors."
Harry wanted to say so many things in response to that, but what came out of his mouth instead at that was, "I think you've mistaken us Gryffindors with Hufflepuffs."
Draco's scowl deepened. "Whatever, Potter. Anyway, I'm sorry. I won't say it for a fourth time."
Silence followed Draco's words and Harry lately realized that Draco was waiting for a response. Harry can't form one, though.
With a rejected-sounding sigh, Draco turned and was about to leave. The movement sent Harry's senses snapping back into place and without even thinking twice he ran towards Draco and grabbed his hand. Draco turned to look at him with wide eyes. "Potter, what the-?"
"I have something for you," Harry said, then he reached for his back pocket. He pulled out a wand made of hawthorn and Draco's eyes widened some more –if that was even possible. Both men were only slightly aware of their still linked hands. "I… planned to return this a while ago but…"
"My wand," Draco whispered, raising his free hand. His fingers brushed against the wand and he felt both familiar and foreign to the touch. Harry let it go and Draco looked at it, turning it in his fingers and smiling to himself. "My wand."
"Yes, your wand," Harry said.
Draco snapped his gaze up to meet Harry's and he blushed. Harry raised an eyebrow at him in question. The blond coughed once. "Err… thanks and…"
Harry's eyebrow rose higher. "And…?"
"My hand, Potter."
It took a few seconds before Harry understood and he let go of Draco's hand with a start as though he got burned. He blushed and looked away, taking one step back. He also suddenly realized that they were standing very close to each other and he wondered why it felt warm all of a sudden. "S-Sorry. I just… I-I," he stammered.
Harry was so shocked for the second time that day and he wondered how many more surprises the Slytherin had in store for him. Draco's laugh was… truly pleasant to hear. Especially when it wasn't directed at Harry.
"You're blushing, Potter."
"So were you," Harry muttered.
Draco shot him a very genuine smile and he reached his hand out. "Truce, Potter?"
Harry felt the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile without him even allowing it. He took Draco's hand in his and shook it. "Truce."
Draco's smile wasn't disappearing. It was still there, directed at Harry, and Harry was only too happy to return it. Harry felt something stir in his chest, and the warmth from Draco's fingers was spreading through him quickly like a forest fire. He wondered if the feeling was mutual, whether Draco felt the same warmth and tenderness he did. He got his answer a couple of seconds later.
The next events happened so suddenly neither of them knew who had moved first. All that they knew was next thing, their lips were locked and glued to each other. It was a very nice feeling, and Harry felt the stirring in his chest more. His hand wasn't holding Draco's anymore; it had mysteriously found its way onto the Slytherin's back, arms closed around Draco's waist and pulling him closer some more. Draco was pulling at his hair and tilting his head into a better angle.
Harry had never felt anything like it. Sure, he had snogged one or two girls before, including Ginny, but it just wasn't the same. This, Harry thought, was what a kiss should be like. No words could describe it.
Draco tore his mouth away from Harry's and the Gryffindor whined at the lost of contact. Draco chuckled and pushed at Harry until his back hit the wall and reconnected their lips. Harry was somewhat embarrassed when he heard a moan from his throat, but the embarrassment immediately vanished when he heard one from Draco as well. Harry tightened his grip on the blond's waist and turned, flipping their positions. Draco's back slammed against the wall painfully and he scowled, but it was quickly wiped off from his face when Harry resumed their kissing.
Harry's tongue shot out of his mouth and traced a wet line along Draco's lower lip. Draco moaned. Harry nibbled along the corner of Draco's mouth and then glued his lips once more to the other man's. Tongues tangled against each other, and both men moaned blissfully.
Harry's hands crawled up the back of Draco's shirt and he felt the smoothness of the expanse of skin there. Draco pulled away from him very abruptly. "Potter! Wait, what are we-?"
Draco's inquiry was cut short when he sucked in his breath. Harry was tracing a wet line from his jaw up to his ear, nibbling at the flesh there. "Less talk. More kissing," he breathed into Draco's ear.
"No, wait. Stop, Potter. Stop. Harry."
Harry pulled away by the sound of his name and looked into Draco's haze-filled gray orbs. He could see every tiny speck of pale blue there and he smiled. Draco was beautiful. "Yes, Draco?"
Harry nuzzled his nose into Draco's neck and inhaled his scent. He smelled of cologne and wine and there was something else in there that was all unique to Draco. Harry thought he could spend the whole day taking in the wonderful scent. "I dunno. I guess I like you."
Draco snorted. "After the mind-blowing kissing, yes, Harry. I can say you definitely have a thing for me. But, wait…"
Harry felt his shoulders being pushed and he was forced away from Draco. He whined. "Draco…"
"I though you were straight," Draco tilted his head to one side.
"I thought I was," Harry said and he pressed a light kiss to Draco's forehead. "Until now." He kissed a blazing trail down the center of the blond's face until he touched those already-swollen lips.
"I bent the Harry Potter? I'm honored," Draco muttered against his lips and they were kissing again. "I like you, you know that, right?"
"'Course. And I like you, too. Just for the record."
The two burst into laughter and kissed once more, before Draco heard Harry's stomach grumble. Draco chuckled and nuzzled his nose against Harry's. "Let's go grab some lunch together, what do you say?"
"Like a date?" Harry asked.
Draco rolled his eyes at him. "Yes, Potter. Like a date."
Harry smiled, and Draco can't help but return it. Perhaps this was a new beginning… for the both of them.
~ x X x 0 o 0 x X x ~
A/N: So… how was it? Reviews, please! It would be very much appreciated.
BTW… I just watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part two the other day and cried for nearly an hour. It's just so… no adjective can describe it. Beautiful? Amazing? Wonderful? EPIC? Heartbreaking? Anyway, my childhood is now complete! Although a part of me felt like it just ended…