Zinnia says: I originally wrote this to a specific song and threw lyrics in there. Apparently it's illegal, so I had to make changes in this. If you want to read the original version, please send me a pm, so we can talk about it.
Thank you! Reviews and pm's warmly welcome! Marie, a friend of mine, checked my mispellings on this one.

Description: Draco is in a bar, when Harry comes to deliver a message from McGonagall, the head teacher of Hogwarts. Draco's rational mind is having a break, while he listens to his favourite song. In the moment's rush he accepts the offer to fill in the position as the Potions teacher. Little did he know how his feelings for Potter would change. Potter's not an easy catch.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters (J.K. Rowling does).

Warnings: Boys kissing, and hugging, not much else. Also there's a phrase in Latin, and I can't speak Latin, so either send me a pm telling me the whole sentence, or keep your mouth shut. Amor Vincit Omnia, that much I do understand.

Love Again

Draco was leaning on the piano of a wizard gay bar called Three Wizards in Wizarding London; he was feeling empty as his life nowadays wasn't too interesting or pleasant. He hadn't gotten a job after he'd graduated from Hogwarts, and after the war and his parents' deaths, the Ministry of Magic had confiscated all his family fortunes, leaving Draco without any glimpse of a brighter future.

About a year ago, on some unimportant, rainy autumn night he'd felt flattered, as a young wizard man, Thomas, had been flirting with him. He had bought more drinks to Draco than he was able to get down.

The next day when he'd woken up, he'd found himself in a very neat flat, with highly expensive furnishings, and it didn't take him long to figure out that if he ever wanted to live in a nice apartment, then he'd have to find a companion, who had money – lots of it.

Thomas was perfect for that, it had been too easy to wrap Thomas around his little finger, and move in with him. Now Draco had all the money he ever wanted. There were also other advantages having a boyfriend like Thomas, as Draco could get into the kind of circles and surroundings he wanted to spend his time in.

At least that's what he'd thought at the time – It was almost exactly one year ago now.
It had all changed already.

He didn't feel any connection with Thomas, and suddenly the money and the right circles weren't enough for him to spend his time with someone he didn't care for one bit, and whose company he found straining and boring.

You know how they sometimes say stuff like; "You only want things, you can't have", or "What you try not to think about, can become the only thing you think about".

What Draco really had been thinking about lately, was love.

He'd thought about it constantly, he had started doing things he didn't think he would ever do, like listening to love songs. Especially some deep ones, which would make him suffer some more with the knowledge that he wasn't in love with anyone, and he didn't know if he ever would be.

Love. It was so overrated anyway, but it would be nice to feel something, anything, towards someone for a change, Draco thought right now as he was leaning on the piano.

He kindly asked Thomas to play a song, because Thomas was an amazing piano player, and of course the man would do anything Draco asked for.

So as the first tunes of Draco's contemporary favourite love song hit the air, he leaned on the piano and felt empty, like the song always made him feel like, pine after someone, and no-one in particular.

Thomas probably thought Draco loved to hear him sing songs like that, but the truth was that Draco didn't care who was singing it, as long as he could hear the song, and get absorbed into its atmosphere.

Thomas started singing the first line of the lyrics Draco lifted his gaze from the floor, and let it wander around the bar.

The song made him feel dreamy, like he was in some fantasy world of his own, and not in reality, not here.

He drowned in the lyrics, thinking how much they reminded him of his own life, talking about screenplay life, and about consolation that would change his heart and mind.

Someone, who looked vaguely familiar from behind, was leaning on the bar counter, and turned around now. Their eyes met. Potter.

Potter's gaze didn't shift anywhere, and Draco kept staring back without being able to do anything else.
He had never seen Potter here before.
In fact he hadn't met Potter too many times after they'd graduated more than a year ago, having spent the seventh year in Hogwarts, after the war, to get his NEWTs.

They'd been on civil terms when they last met, but there had been the awkward knowledge that they both had to work for it, to keep it civil, to not return to the way they used to communicate, by insults and hexes.

Potter suddenly did something strange, and motioned Draco to go there.

It felt so strange because of the song. Draco knew every word and note in the song.
Draco was in his own fantasy worlds inside his head, and now Potter was in the middle of that emotional fantasy too, motioning to him.

It was like his feet had walked on their own, as Draco was walking towards Potter, and he felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, and there was nothing else but Potter holding his gaze.

The lyrics told him that this moment would make him love again.

He took the remaining steps, and had to step a little too close to Potter, to let the people pass behind him, in the crowded bar. All Draco could hear was the song.

He was way too close to Potter now, because someone was walking behind him, pushing him against Potter without his own will, but he didn't mind, nothing felt real, they were now in the fantasy.

Potter's hand was on Draco's lower back but it didn't feel real at all, and Draco didn't think about the fact that it was only there, because Potter thought Draco might lose his balance.

Potter leaned even closer, to speak right into Draco's ear, their chests were pressing into each other's, and Potter's face was now on Draco's most sensitive place, too near his neck.

Draco could almost imagine Potter kissing his neck, but instead Potter spoke into his ear, "It's too crowded and loud, let's go somewhere else!"

The lyrics told him he was safe now, and he should love again. He believed every word.

He pulled back just enough to look Potter in the eyes, and he nodded, and because everything felt unreal, he grabbed Potter's hand, and started pulling him through the crowd, and the blue lights of the bar were blinding him, the smoke was making everything even more unreal.

Potter's hand was warm, and closing around Draco's cold one.

Draco spotted a couple who were leaving from a couch, so he pulled Potter right there as the couple left, and they got the couch all to themselves.

He sat a little too close to Potter because of the music; and the noise, so they could talk but it was really difficult to come up with anything, because the music made him feel like all he could think about was that he was with Potter, Potter was here, in his fantasy.

Potter had just created some sort of a connection with him, Potter was on the same wavelength with him.

It was like he'd completely forgotten how to glare, narrow his eyes, smirk, or anything else he used to do when he was throwing an insult at Potter.

Instead now he was asking in a thick, hope crusted voice, speaking right into Potter's ear, "You're gay?"

Potter laughed, and all Draco could feel was how close Potter was. Draco could smell his aftershave, as Potter talked very near to Draco's neck,

"I'm here because I have a message for you."

Draco couldn't pull back even one inch because he liked the proximity, they were so close, it was a wonder they didn't touch; he asked, "What message?"

The lyrics kept telling him over, and over again, that this moment would make him love again.

He could feel Potter's skin radiating warmth, "McGonagall has tried to contact you. She wants you to come to Hogwarts and fill in the position as a Potions teacher."

Draco listened carefully but still didn't pull back, instead he asked, "How did you find me?"

When Potter spoke, his breath caressed Draco's skin, "Seamus told me you come here often."

Draco breathed in Potter's scent, closed his eyes, and spoke in Potter's ear, "Why would she want me to become the Potions teacher?"

Potter was so close to Draco's neck, he couldn't stop thinking about how Potter might kiss him there,

"There was an accident two days ago, and now she can't find anyone to fill in. She needs someone fast, and she wondered if you have a job. Do you have a job?"

Draco wondered if he could simply kiss Potter's neck. Right now he could see himself doing that, and it would be the exact thing to do, because nothing else existed, just the two of them,

"No, I don't. Why did she send you? Do you work in Hogwarts?"

"Yes, as the DADA teacher. She sent me, because you didn't answer her letters." Potter spoke, the warm air felt nice on Draco's neck,

"I'll accept it. When should I start?" He didn't need to think about it, Potter and he had a connection now, this was good.

"What about your boyfriend?" Potter's voice had never sounded this good.

"It's nothing serious, I'll just… I'll leave him." Draco said, he could already envision himself in Hogwarts with Potter.

The song ended, although Draco never wanted it to end.

Potter pulled away and only now Draco realised the Gryffindor was drinking something that looked like coke with rum.
He stared at Potter until Potter met his eyes again. Draco asked,

"How did you know I had a boyfriend?"

Potter sipped his drink, never leaving Draco's eyes, before answering, "Seamus told me."

Draco couldn't shift his eyes from Potter's, and he didn't want to do that either. He asked, "When should I start?"

Potter's gaze moved suddenly somewhere else, but Draco only kept watching Potter's face.
Potter looked so good, the silhouette of his nose, his soft looking dark hair, and especially his lips and eyes.

Potter was suddenly shaking hands with someone, and Draco's head snapped to see the person who disturbed his moment with Potter.
It was Thomas and Potter was introducing himself.

Draco felt irritated as Thomas sat next to him, and placed his arm on Draco's shoulders.

Draco only saw Potter, and asked impatiently, "When can I start?"

Potter smiled, "On Monday. But you can move in whenever you have time."

Potter's eyes were so wonderful, so intense; Draco never wanted to look away from him, "Next Monday? As in… the next Monday that comes after this weekend?"

Potter grinned, sipped his drink and said, "Well it's Friday now, tomorrow it's Saturday, then Sunday, and what comes after Sunday?"

Draco only blinked. This was all so sudden but he wanted to leave this place with Potter right now. He would go anywhere with Potter, just to feel this connection, just to feel someone was sharing a special moment with him.

"Can I come tonight?" He asked.

Potter's gaze shifted from Draco to Thomas, and back to Draco, Potter frowned, "You could if you wanted to, but don't you think you have things to do before you come?"

Potter clearly meant Thomas, Draco said, "I want to come tonight."

Potter shrugged and sipped his drink again, his gaze started to wander around the bar. Draco was still absorbing Potter's facial features when soon Potter looked at Draco again, and said,

"I really should be going. But I guess I'll see you in school."

Draco simply nodded. He really didn't want Potter to go, although he would see him soon.

Draco would see Potter as soon as he had first gotten his stuff (which wasn't much) from Thomas's and travelled to Hogwarts.

Potter stood up, smiled, and offered his hand to Thomas once more, saying, "It was nice to meet you. Oh and by the way, you played very well."

Draco didn't turn to look at Thomas, didn't hear his answer either, he only saw Potter. Potter's lips looked very good when Potter smiled.

Potter's gaze met Draco's, but only shortly, as the Gryffindor said, "I'll see you in school."

Draco tried to smile, but he was too absorbed in staring, he could only nod a little, and Potter left.

"What was he talking about school?" Thomas interfered with Draco's beautiful thoughts about Potter.

"I'll tell you in a minute but first we have to get to your place. Let's go." Draco stood up, and walked fast, he secretly wished he could still catch a glimpse of Potter, but he didn't.


Draco was trying to sleep; it was difficult because he was so excited. He was here in Hogwarts once again, like he'd never even left, everything felt the same as in seventh year.

He hadn't thought he might get a proper job, and working as a Potions teacher would probably be the closest to a dream job he could ever get.

He hadn't seen Potter after arriving to Hogwarts tonight, but it was alright because he would most likely see Potter at breakfast the next morning.

All Draco could do was fantasize about Potter, about how wonderful it had felt when Potter had been talking like that, so close to him, so close Draco might accidentally kiss him on the neck.

When had Potter become so good looking?

Draco couldn't even remember when he'd last time felt this connected with someone. Surely Potter had felt it too, the intensity, the connection, how deep it was.

He would definitely have a talk with Potter tomorrow, and repeat his question about the Gryffindor's sexual orientation. He was certain Potter was gay, why else would Draco feel this connected with him?

It should've been surprising that from all the wizards he'd met, and not felt anything with, he would end up harbouring these feelings for Potter, but it didn't feel strange at all.

It only felt natural since they'd always shared an intense relationship, although before it had been out of shared hate or extreme irritation - clearly all of that had now turned into simple intensity.

At least from Draco's side the intensity was covered in excitement, and not much else. So connected he felt, like Potter made him a part of something bigger.
Draco was a piece in a puzzle and had just found the place he belonged to.

He had just escaped from a life full of pretending, and he felt like he'd done the right thing, the best thing he could do.

Now he was building his own life, getting his own money, and he wasn't dependent on anyone – except it would be alright to have the special connection with Potter, that would be nice.

He sighed and felt quite content with his new life for a moment before drifting off to a peaceful slumber.


The next morning he felt a little more like his usual self, as the memory of last night, seeing Potter, the feelings the song raised, were now ebbing away.

He went to breakfast and wondered how he would feel seeing Potter now, would the connection still be there, or was it all just Draco's imagination woken up by the song?

As soon as he stepped into the Great Hall, he felt it, and his eyes automatically fell on Potter, who was sitting in the teachers' table, having a chat with Oliver Wood.

Draco felt his pulse quicken as he started marching down the aisle towards the teacher's table, he couldn't get his eyes off Potter.

The only free seat was next to McGonagall, so Draco headed there, and lifted his chin up. He felt proud of himself for the first time in a long while.

When he was nearing the table, Potter finally caught him watching. After a moment's hesitation Potter said politely, "Morning."

Draco answered just as politely, "Morning."

Potter shifted his gaze and returned to talking with Wood.

Draco sat down next to McGonagall and started a polite conversation about his position as the new Potions teacher, but he was thinking about Potter all the while. It disturbed him that he had no idea how Potter was feeling.

Was Potter feeling it or not – the connection?!

It was impossible to tell but Draco would find it out sooner or later.


It wasn't just at breakfast when Draco's pulse sped up, no, it sped up every time he saw a flash of Potter in a corridor or in a hall, and Potter was all he saw.

He had already tried to 'accidentally' bump into Potter here and there, but Potter had every time said 'Hi', with the forced politeness, and not shown any sign of having some sort of special connection with Draco.

On Sunday he was even more determined to find Potter, manipulate him into some deep conversation where he could suddenly lead the topic into Potter's orientation but no matter how hard he tried to locate Potter throughout the day, he didn't see him anywhere.

On Sunday evening he wondered for the first time if he had made the right choice, coming to Hogwarts just like that, and escaping the boring but safe life he'd had with Thomas.

He hoped to Merlin he'd be a natural as a teacher, otherwise he might've made a mistake by coming here.


Monday came, and he ended most of his lessons a little early, so that he could be 'by accident' in the corridors ready for Potter to show up from his classes.

When he saw Potter for the first time (and noticed how the pulse picked up again) that day, he tried to take as polite expression as he could and said loudly, "Potter."

Potter met his eyes, and the forced politeness was visible, "Malfoy."

Potter didn't stop though, he was about to pass Draco, and head off somewhere when Draco said, "How's the teaching going?"

It was impossible to come up with proper small-talk lines for Potter, mostly because of their past. Did Potter even know that they had long ago stopped being rivals, and now they were on a new ground which wasn't just civil and forced politeness, but had something else lingering there too?

Potter stopped at Draco's words, and then turned around slowly; frowned a little and regarded Draco like he hadn't been expecting any conversation, "Good. As usual."

The fake politeness was visible but Draco understood and accepted that. Potter clearly waited for Draco to say something (possibly a retort?), before asking politely, "How's yours?"

Draco shrugged, "Better than I thought. Do you have plans for tonight?"

Draco clenched his jaw as he waited for an answer, and watched Potter's expression change several times before the Gryffindor took a look around, and replied, "Yes, I do have plans."

When all Draco did was pursed his lips, Potter regarded him and asked frowning, "Why? Is there something going on I should know about?"

Draco lifted his eyebrows just a little, and wondered what Potter thought might've been going on. Was Potter referring to the students, or was Potter referring to the fact that Draco was currently staring at him, drowning into the greenness behind Potter's glasses.

Draco almost felt like asking, 'Can't you feel it? Can't you feel this – this is what's going on, Potter, this.'

Potter was staring right back at him but Draco didn't know if it was because he only waited for an answer, or if Potter was feeling it too.

He swallowed down his pride and said, "If you're busy, never mind. I was just wondering if you'd like to go for a drink or a dinner in Hogsmeade sometime."

Potter became absolutely still, like he'd been petrified, and the silence seemed endless although it lasted less than a minute, before Potter asked quietly, "To talk about school?"

Draco's eyes were locked in Potter's although he would've gladly let his eyes absorb all the little details of Potter's face; he simply couldn't shift his eyes anywhere,

"To talk about anything, and not necessarily about school."

Nothing else existed but the two off them, although the students kept pushing and rushing past behind Draco, who risked it and took one step closer to Potter, who didn't step back although Draco was half expecting that to happen.

Potter's green eyes broke the eye-contact for a couple of seconds as he glanced around in the corridor.

When the eyes were meeting Draco's again, Potter said, "Look… I…"

Potter seemed suddenly a little nervous. Was Potter straight after all, or what was this behavior supposed to mean?

"I'll think about it." Potter finally got out and clenched his jaw.

Potter glanced around once more, before saying, "I have to go to the class. I'll see you around."

Draco nodded but couldn't find anything to say, so he let Potter slip away, and stayed watching after him before sighing, and forcing himself to the next class.


He'd been sometimes told he could turn straight men to gay, or that some men turned into "Malfoysexuals" after spending some time with him.

That in mind he stomped towards Potter's office because Potter had been clearly avoiding him ever since that short talk on Monday. It was Thursday already, and it simply wouldn't do any longer.

He needed to speak with Potter, get the orientation thing cleared up, so that he'd know how much he should use his superior seduction skills to get Potter into a trap.

'The trap' being just a metaphor for whatever he wanted from Potter. An intense kiss maybe? He wasn't sure yet.
Or maybe even just a peck on the corner of Potter's mouth?

It should've been a simple thought, but it made his blood run so hot he thought he was blushing even though he fought against it with all his might.

All through Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday he'd been wondering what possibilities he would have with Potter. Friendship was out of the question because Draco wanted something more.

If they shared the special connection Draco thought they had; then they would have to share some special relationship too.

He had also been daydreaming about Potter, he couldn't help it. He had been listening to that song over and over again, repeating the memory of the bar in his head.

Potter's eyes, Potter so close he radiated warmth, Potter's voice, Potter's words brushing Draco's neck and ear. The lyrics of the song, if only he could read the chorus from Potter's lips.

He shook his head to get the memory to stay at bay as he neared Potter's office. He knocked, not very hard, and waited until he heard footsteps, and Potter opened the door, just a little, just enough to look at Draco.

Potter seemed a little surprised, and said, "Malfoy?"

Draco swallowed, "Are you busy?"

Potter blinked, "Yes. I… I have company."

The answer was so unexpected, Draco couldn't say anything. He felt like Potter had just kicked him in the stomach. He wanted to ask 'What kind of a company? A girlfriend? A boyfriend? A lover, perhaps?'.

That's why Potter was keeping the door open only so that Draco could see him, but not in the room.

"Oh." He managed to mutter, and clenched his jaw. He couldn't believe he was here. Standing at the door of Harry Golden Boy Potter, trying to ask him out again, in vain!

For a fleeing moment he was glad his father was dead. If Lucius heard about this, he'd surely rise up from the dead, hunt Draco down, spank his only son on the butt with his cane until the skin cracked open, and then tie him upside down in the cellar of their manor, and leave him there until Draco promised never to look at Potter's direction again, and never to even whisper his name.

He was certain Potter could see how awkward he felt, and Draco was about to flee, when Potter suddenly said, "About your offer…"

Draco halted in the middle of turning away, and returned his eyes on Potter's intense ones.

Potter articulated well, "Maybe we could go… for a cup of coffee some time, to… talk about teaching."

Draco stared right into the green eyes, and something in Potter's tense expression told Draco, that this was the wrong moment to talk; because there was someone in Potter's room. Automatically Draco lifted his head a little, and tried to see past Potter's head but couldn't see anything.

He returned his eyes to Potter's and knew he was right, Potter clearly tried to give him a glare, which said, 'Stop it.'

Draco didn't know when he'd learn to understand the meanings behind Potter's glares, but this glare and its intensity made Draco snort. Suddenly he had a lie ready in his head, even if he didn't know whether Potter needed to lie to that someone in the room, or not.

The lie came out so fluently, Draco celebrated his amazing Slytherin mind, hoping it would impress Potter somewhat too,
"Actually I wanted to negotiate the possibility of a joined class; it would be extremely useful for the students if they could see how Defense Against the Dark Arts can be combined with Potions making. According to a book I read recently, there have been positive results in the research of which school subjects could be taught simultaneously. Surprisingly they are DADA and Potions. "

He could've gone on with the lie, he could've spoken for an hour, elaborate this idea, which wasn't even that much of a lie because the book did actually exist – and he'd read it too. But he didn't want to have joined classes with Potter.

He doubted he would be able to brew or instruct anything, if those intense, green eyes were regarding him like this. He would probably blow up the whole classroom, and not even notice doing so, because all he could see was green.

"We could negotiate that over a cup of coffee, yes. I'll send you an owl when I can take a small break from my exams planning. Goodnight, Malfoy."

Potter looked relieved, Draco gave him a small, yet knowing smile, and melted into the greenness, "Goodnight, Potter."

Potter gave him a curt smile, and forced his eyes off of Draco before closing the door. Draco had to shake his head to wake up from the feeling that Potter's eyes had caused inside him. He started walking towards the Slytherin dungeon, and his own room.

All the way back the daydreams kept popping up again, harassing him. He could imagine the blown up classroom, there would be smoke in the air, and Potter would smile at him from the other side of the room.

Green eyes, all intense, Potter might even laugh, very softly, and Draco would walk up to him, press him against the wall, and snap, 'This was entirely your fault, Potter. Don't you know it's illegal to have such a pretty face, and a pair of such unworldly eyes?'

Potter would grin; his eyes would look dreamy while he relaxed completely under Draco's strong hands. He would lean on the wall for support, so Draco could push up against him, his lips would find Potter's neck...

Draco shook his head, this was getting ridiculous. Like it wasn't ridiculous enough that he now had a crush on Potter, and had just basically begged Potter to go out with him, he also had to walk around with his head in the daydream clouds. Ridiculous.

At night he tried to get some sleep but he couldn't stop wondering who had been in Potter's room.
A Student? No, not at that hour.
Another teacher? Perhaps, why not?
Or a companion, a woman or a man...

He hoped by Salazar's name that Potter hadn't believed any word of the lie he'd told. Surely Potter knew it had been a lie. But were they really going for a cup of coffee to discuss about teaching? Not likely. Potter would know Draco had something completely else in mind. Did that make Potter gay? Potter knew Draco was both gay, and single.

He sighed happily and smiled. If Potter went out with him, then he would have all the right in the world to assume it was a date, and he had the right to kiss Potter if he felt like it, because Potter knew he was gay, and single.

He gripped that thought and held on to it until he fell asleep.


On Tuesday Draco felt a little bit impatient, as there had been no owl delivering him a note from Potter. He met Potter only at breakfast, and lunch, and on both times Potter was seated next to Wood, and had been absorbed into a conversation with him.

Draco couldn't even hear what they were talking about, but every time Potter laughed, he felt a pang of jealousy because the laughter wasn't directed at Draco. That sweet sound, how Potter had laughed when they were in the bar, as Draco had asked if he was gay.

He was too curious and couldn't stop himself, he started spying on Potter after the last class. He followed Potter to the Quidditch field, ignoring the cold November wind, which seemed to suggest he should go back in. He walked under the stand and peered from a crack, Potter was talking with Wood, once again.

It could've been a coincidence they met, and they were possibly talking about flying, because they gazed to the sky before Potter laughed again.
The sound of it made Draco's grey heart shudder at the knowledge it hadn't been caused by him, and therefore the laughter felt all wrong.

Suddenly Wood took a step closer to Potter and kissed him on the cheek. Potter's hands flew automatically on Wood's chest and pushed him back a little.
Potter was smiling when he took a hasty look around, and Draco only closed his eyes, hoping he wouldn't get caught, not having the time to crouch.

When he opened his eyes, Potter's hands were still on Wood's chest, the fingertips were running downwards, along the fabric, until the hem was met, and then Potter pulled his hands back.

The boys were staring at each other now, not speaking, just staring.

It hurt Draco like hell; it hurt worse than any insult Potter had ever thrown at him, more than any curse, including the sectumsempra incident.

It was clear to him now; Potter had a special connection too, but it was with Wood, not with Draco.

He couldn't look at it anymore, he left, and marched angrily back to the castle.

He stomped right into his room and threw himself on the bed, not caring if his clothes were wet with rain, or snow, or whatever the shit was, that soaked him clear through to the bone, and that had tried to tell Draco not to follow Potter, not to see what the green eyed beauty was hiding.

Potter was still in the closet, and he was there with Wood.


It happened on Saturday at three in the afternoon. The owl knocked impatiently on Draco's window and he let it in, sighing loudly. He opened the note, and sighed again,


A cuppa at Three Broomsticks at 4.30 today? Don't answer this, just show up if you have time.
P.S. it's not a date!


He debated with himself. To go or not to go, now that was the question. His rational mind was singing warningly 'Do not dare to go, he's taken'. He took a shower and pulled on some random clothes.

It didn't matter what he had on, this wasn't a date; Potter was already dating, or was in a relationship with bloody Wood.

He knew he looked good, he always did. All of his clothes fitted him perfectly, and all the colours were complementing each other perfectly.

Potter often wore muggle clothes, so finally after some hesitation he changed his clothing, and pulled on a long sleeved, black shirt, which had a sentence embroidered in Latin on the hem, going around his body.

The text was silver grey, not stealing the attention completely, but giving a good discussion topic for those who couldn't come up with anything better under nervous circumstances.

Perfect for a date, he knew, but he wasn't going on a date, he was going for a cup of coffee with someone, who had someone else.

He still thought he'd made the perfect solution by coming to Hogwarts. Now that he'd felt for a moment that he had a connection with someone, he saw what a vast difference there was between feeling something, and not feeling anything, for someone.

He never wanted to spend another minute hugging, or having sex with, someone he didn't care for one bit.

He put on his jacket, checked his reflection in the mirror, tried to give himself a smile but couldn't, brushed his hair with his fingers, but it was perfect like it was. He sighed once more as he put on his boots and left.

It was cold outside, but luckily not too dark yet. Draco grimaced at the thought that his elegant nose would be all red, along with his cheeks by the time he reached the Three Broomsticks, but he didn't care, he wasn't going on a date.

He was deliberately late by five minutes, so that Potter got some time to feel nervous. He enjoyed the warmth that met him when he stepped inside the pub, and started opening up his jacket. He glanced around the pub, and found Potter sitting in the furthest corner, in a dark, leather booth, but Potter was staring at his drink and didn't see Draco.

Draco had to walk all the way up to the table, and still Potter was staring at his drink, so Draco said a little loudly,

Potter's head snapped up, like he'd been startled, and said, "Hi."

Potter held his gaze, but Potter's expression was totally unfamiliar to Draco, so he frowned and asked,
"I could go and get us something. What are you having?"

He could see that Potter was having something that must've been Firewhiskey. It wasn't coffee; that much was certain, but maybe Potter thought they'd have coffee nevertheless. Or tea, who knew.

"I um… I'll go…" Potter stood up quickly, and halted in front of Draco.
Draco almost stopped breathing, as his pulse was suddenly way too fast, and there it was again, Potter, what are you doing, can't you feel this?

Green eyes were holding him in a tight grip, and Potter asked, "What are you having?"

Draco tried to shrug, "Anything you're having."

Potter held his gaze, and when he was about to turn, Draco snatched his arm, and Potter got so rigid Draco felt like they were both suddenly put under a freezing spell.
Potter turned around to look at Draco, and Draco's lips formed words on their own, his voice was lower than usual, "Do you really want to have coffee?"

Potter swallowed, and his voice was quiet considering how much noise there was around, "What do you want to have then?"

Draco couldn't help but stare, it was like Potter's lips were asking him to do it, when he let his eyes shift onto those lips (so soft, beautiful, please), just a glance, because he couldn't control himself.

When he returned to Potter's eyes, he could see the panic there, Potter thought Draco was about to kiss him, and he wasn't, although that was what he wanted, and not coffee.

Potter closed his mouth tightly and clenched his jaw, pulled his arm away from Draco's grip.
Draco suffered at the loss, but forced himself to answer, "Anything else but coffee."

Potter took a step back, and said, "Anything else it is then," and off he went, to fetch anything else and Draco released a breath.
He collapsed on the booth and realised he was almost shaking, he was bloody nervous and he wondered why he hadn't kissed Potter just now.

He had never heard so clearly his inner good and bad share a conversation; Potter has a boyfriend. So what? He'll hate you if you kiss him without his permission. No, he won't. Yes, he will.

He decided it was true. If Potter had a boyfriend, then Draco wasn't allowed to kiss him; But he doesn't know I know he's gay, and has a boyfriend. Yes, but if you fall in love, you'll confess what you did. I would never confess. Yes, you would, if you were in love.

He shook his head, Merlin how he hated his brain right now. Luckily Potter was back soon, with…

"Coffee?" Draco asked, and frowned.

"You can't always have what you want, Malfoy." Potter said firmly and started sipping his coffee, not meeting Draco's eyes.

Why was Potter this cold suddenly? Draco sipped his coffee too but he hated it, it tasted bitter.

"What does it say?" Potter asked, and since Draco was already watching his eyes, he could see the gaze was directed into Draco's lap.

"It's Latin. It starts from the other side, and it says 'I believe love conquers all in the end'.

Potter still kept his eyes on the shirt, and muttered the part that was visible on the front, "Amor vincit Omnia? Amor is love, right? That's why the love potion is called Amorentia."

Draco nodded but Potter still didn't meet his gaze. Potter asked, "Looks almost like a muggle shirt. Did you buy it?"

Draco shook his head. Now this was the part he had hoped to come in the conversation, this was the payback time for seeing Potter with Wood, and this was the phrase after which Potter should come out of the closet to Draco,

"No. My ex-boyfriend bought it for me I didn't bother asking whether it was muggle, or not, but he is a wizard, so it doesn't matter to me."

Potter's eyes shifted, and met Draco's. Potter said, "About that… did you leave him?"

"Yes, I did. Right after I'd packed up my things that night." Draco answered.
Ask me why, Potter, ask me why I came here, Draco thought desperately.

"So you just left, just like that?" Potter asked.

"Yes, just like that." Draco answered.

Potter sipped his coffee, and asked, "How long were you together? Seamus told me you lived with him, that's true, right?"

Draco nodded, "Yes, I did live with him, for almost a year."

Potter's eyebrows got up, "Really? That's… that's quite a long time, I think."

Draco gave a curt smile, "Yes, it is a long time."
See how nice and easy I am, who wouldn't want to be with me?

Potter's expression was more serious now, "Were you in love with him?"

Draco shook his head, "No."
Potter, you're going to be the only one I'll ever love, just dump Wood and take me instead.

Potter was silent for a moment; then asked, "Was he in love with you?"

Draco smiled a little, "Yes."
I'm very easy to love, so go ahead, start falling in love already…

Potter's gaze dropped back into Draco's shirt, and the Gryffindor was quiet for a long time, sipping his coffee. Finally he muttered,

"I didn't know you were a romantic."

Draco smiled, "I'm not, I just like the shirt. But can you still remember the song in the bar?

Potter met his eyes and nodded. Draco said, "That's my favourite song though, even if I'm not a romantic at all."

Potter swallowed some coffee and said, "I liked it too, and I'd like to hear it again. Do you have it somewhere? Could I borrow it?"

This was going good, Draco thought.

"Yes, I have it on my magical jukebox. You could come and borrow it tonight."

Potter met Draco's eyes again and nodded, "Alright."

Then the Gryffindor drank rest of his coffee, and got up, "I should go."

Draco frowned, "Why? Are you meeting someone?"
Come on, you idiot, tell me about Wood!

Draco got up too, he hadn't finished his coffee but he didn't want to either.

"Yes, I am." Potter said, and tried not to look Draco in the eyes, but Draco was staring at him so intensively, Potter got bored with the fighting back, and did look him in the eyes, before saying,

"Thanks for the… company."

Draco gave a curt smile, "The pleasure is all mine, Potter."

Potter grinned suddenly, "I bet it is. Well… I'll see you around, I guess."

Draco asked, "Can't I walk with you to the castle? Or do you have a meeting in here? If you have time, you could come and fetch the jukebox right now."

Potter looked again like he was about to panic, he stared with wide eyes and clenched his jaw, "I um… I don't know. Maybe."

Draco picked up his jacket and smiled, "After you."

Potter grinned, and shook his head disbelievingly, but turned around and started walking, Draco trailing him.

Now it was cold and dark outside. It usually didn't snow in November but now it was definitely snowing.

Draco tried to tell himself he wasn't a romantic, and all of this was wasted on him, but no, he thought it was very romantic. It was snowing and he was walking with Potter in the darkness.

They had walked about five minutes when Potter sighed.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, although he knew exactly what the problem was. Potter hadn't told about his boyfriend, and he felt guilty, there was no question about it.

"There's something I want to talk about with you but… let's just get to Hogwarts first." Potter muttered, and didn't look at Draco although Draco was hoping to catch his eyes.

They didn't speak anything after that. Do it, Draco's inner Slytherin hissed, kiss him, now.

He grabbed Potter's arm and Potter stopped. They were in the middle of a small clearing, it was hardly a forest around them but it felt like a really safe, unnoticeable place.
Very good for kissing boys, who were still in the closet, Draco thought.

Potter met his eyes and his breath came out as steam. Draco only kept looking in the eyes that were green even now, in evening darkness.

His hand was still on Potter's arm but he didn't pull it away.
Can't you feel this? You can't possibly deny this, Potter.

He was suddenly extremely nervous. This was a perfect moment for a kiss, but the problem was that Potter had a boyfriend, and if Draco kissed him know, while knowing about the said boyfriend, then Potter would blame the kiss on him – although Potter had gone out with him, so wasn't Potter supposed to feel guilty?

He wanted to kiss Potter so bad, he couldn't help it, and he let his eyes drop on Potter's lips. Potter closed his mouth on a tight line and shook his head. Draco sighed and returned his gaze in Potter's eyes.

"I have something to tell you too," Draco said suddenly, almost surprised hearing his own voice.

Potter stared at him expectantly, clearly not having any hint about what Draco was going to say.

Draco said, "I feel like a Gryffindor saying this but… I followed you one day, because I was curious about you, if you're gay. You met with Wood, and I don't know if I made the right conclusion but I think you are in a – "

"Relationship with him, yes." Potter ended the sentence for him.

He'd known that, but it still didn't stop Potter's gaze feeling like fire on his skin, burning his skin off with slow torture.

Potter said, "That's why I didn't want to go out with you, not on a date at least, but... I told him I was going, so he knows I'm here…"

Potter stared right into Draco's eyes meaningfully; almost like saying 'I haven't done anything wrong'.

Potter went on, "But… this really didn't go as it was supposed to. This… this still feels like a date. And it wasn't supposed to be one. I um… no-one knows about me and Wood, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone."

What was this bullshit? Why didn't Potter already leave bloody Wood?

Draco was at a loss of words, but then he asked, "So you're planning on staying with him?"

Potter nodded.

Draco frowned, "Why?"

Potter pulled his arm off from Draco's grip, "That's personal. I just wanted to tell you that this wasn't supposed to be a date. I have a boyfriend, and I won't go out with you again."

Potter's words hurt although they didn't come nearly as hard out of his mouth, than what Draco could've expected, "I see," he muttered.

"But I'd like us to… continue with some sort of friendly path. It would… it would mean something if we could… um…" Potter was clearly having difficulties with words, so Draco helped him,

"Stay civil? Talk to each other without fighting? Greet each other without shouting?"

Potter looked his in the eyes again, intense green, "Yes. Exactly."

Draco thought about this. He didn't know if he could do that anymore, he wanted something completely different.

He melted before the green stare, he had to look at Potter's lips again, Merlin how much he wanted to kiss him right now, "I'm not sure if I can be civil to you."

He met Potter's eyes again, they were growing cold now, Potter took a step backwards, so Draco took one step closer, and they both halted again.

"Do you have any idea how much I want to kiss you?" Draco asked.

Potter glared at him, he was getting angry, that look Draco knew very well, "Yes, I can see that, but that's not possible."

Draco let out the breath as steam and inhaled, "Let me kiss you, just once, and I promise I won't tell anyone about it. And I won't ask you out again; if that's what you want. And I'll be as civil and polite as I can."

Potter narrowed his eyes a bit, "Are you blackmailing me now?"

Draco shook his head, "No, I'm not."

Potter said, "That's not fair, Malfoy. You can't ask me to do something like that. You know I can't…"

Draco reached out to grab Potter's jacket front and Potter didn't pull away, "But you want to?"

Potter shook his head, "That's not the point. The point is that this needs to stop right now. If you kiss me now, then I'll never forgive you for doing it, when I asked you not to."

Draco took a step, then another, "Pull away then."

Potter placed a hand on Draco's chest, and clenched his jaw, "Don't. Don't do it."

Draco took one more step closer and could feel Potter tense up against him; Potter took a hasty breath and looked deep in Draco's eyes. Draco really wanted to do it now, but he couldn't.
Potter's eyes were telling him not to, not to ruin everything. He felt like doing so anyway, but he couldn't.

"Okay, I won't." Draco promised and lifted his hand to touch Potter's cheek. His fingers were freezing cold but so was Potter's skin.

"Leave him," Draco muttered, and leaned in to kiss Potter's cheek, but that woke Potter up, and he jumped back, "No!"

The angry Gryffindor started marching towards the castle with such pace; Draco had to run after him.

He tried to grab Potter's arm again, but Potter pulled it away, shouting, "Malfoy, this needs to stop right now! If you don't stop, then…"

He tried to grab it again without any luck, "Then what?"

"If you don't let me go, and if you don't stay away from me, then you'll ruin everything, and I'll hate you for as long as I live."

Potter stopped and looked Draco in the eyes, the green was sparkling with anger and something else, "I mean it. I'll hate you, if you ruin everything, so stay away."

Potter was walking so fast, he was almost running, and Draco shouted after him, "Do I have to quit my job too? Just so that you don't have to see me?"

Potter shouted over his shoulder, "No! Just… leave me alone and we're fine!"

Draco stayed there, watching Potter go, and he couldn't move.


It was December, and Draco had tried to do his best not to disturb Potter's existence. For the first week or two after their date, which wasn't a date, he had spent hours wondering whether he should go to Wood, tell him Potter wanted really Draco and not Wood – which wasn't true, but how would Wood know that.

He couldn't do that, of course, he couldn't even tell the whole school Potter was gay, because he did believe what Potter had said about the hating part. He didn't want Potter to hate him, no matter how hard it was to see Potter, and try not to stare, not to go to him, and kiss him senseless.

Draco had sent his magical jukebox to Potter with an owl, and didn't need it back; Potter could keep it for all he cared.

One ordinary, boring, December day he was sitting on a window sill, gazing absently into the darkening evening when his eyes spotted Potter with Wood. They were standing under a tree, and when he heard Potter's voice, he knew they were having a row.

Wood's voice carried now too, but Draco couldn't make out the words.
Wood left, Potter ran after him, grabbed his hand, Wood snatched it back, and shouted something.
Potter stood there, watched Wood go, before leaving himself.

Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? If they broke up, would Draco then get the kiss he craved after? If they broke up, could Draco be the one to comfort the poor Gryffindor?


They didn't break up.
The Christmas Dance Night was nearing with a fast pace and Draco almost decided not to go, but then thought it was time to move on. He would go there, and show Potter he had given up, and moved on.

He would spend a nice evening, without worrying about anything, and he wouldn't so much as glance at Potter's direction.

Then plan was good but it didn't work. The Great Hall looked unbelievable with the spelled, star filled night sky, from which it was snowing, but the snow never reached the ground.
The chandeliers were only lit in half, so their light was subdued.

The tables were only on the sides of the room, leaving the huge floor bare for the dancing. The tables were filled with food, and for teachers there was a separate table, with plenty of alcoholic beverages.

Draco knew he looked good, he had a black, very elegant robe over his dark grey shirt, the colour was near to silver and it almost shined.

He had a Slytherin green tie, but every shade of green had lately only reminded him of Potter's eyes, and he accepted that, he would wear Potter's eye colour tonight, strangling him, it was all irony.

He spotted Potter with Wood, and quickly strutted to the teacher's table, only to get something to drink, and started a meaningless conversation with the contemporary Herbology teacher, Neville Longbottom (now who would've thought that?).

Draco experienced a nightmare like moment when Wood and Potter walked to the piano, and Wood started playing. It looked so similar to what Draco had done in his previous life, which now felt like a distant memory.

Potter was leaning on the piano, Wood was singing in a microphone, and most of the students and staff gathered on the dance floor and started dancing happily.

Draco wasn't happy at all. He didn't regret he was here. He only regretted not having found the way to Potter's heart, or to his lips, he didn't know which was more important, but he thought he would've liked to have both.

The nightmare changed into something else when the evening went on and he relaxed a little. Potter still stood there by the piano; Wood still sang meaningless songs about happiness, and Christmas. Until right before midnight the songs changed into deeper ones, meaningful, love songs.

The type that Draco would listen, until he recognized one of the songs from his own jukebox.
Potter liked them. Potter liked the love songs that he'd chosen on his jukebox.

Even after realizing this, he didn't expect what happened next. The first notes of the next song hit the air, all the blood in Draco's veins froze.

How dare Potter request that, that was Draco's favourite; how dare the Gryffindor torture Draco like this?

His hands were shaking. He loved this song.

Without thinking he marched to the Gryffindor, he was halfway there when Potter's eyes met his, and there he was again, in Draco's dream world. In the middle of the song that raised Draco's emotions he usually didn't admit having.

Potter held his eyes until Draco was there. Draco simply said, "Dance with me."

Potter turned his head to look at Wood, who made an approving face, and Potter turned to Draco, "I don't know. I never dance."

Draco swallowed, "You will now."

Potter stared at him, but then he stepped closer, and they walked in the middle of the other people, who didn't even exist to Draco.

He sighed as he wrapped his arms gently around Potter, who answered by doing the same. Draco leaned even closer, not caring a fuck if Potter had a boyfriend or a hundred of them; Potter belonged to him right now, Potter was in his dream world.

He breathed in, and could feel how his grey heart melted like a candle in the middle of a fire.
Potter's scent, Potter's skin so warm, he buried his nose in Potter's neck, not caring about anything else.

Potter sighed too, and Draco felt the air on his neck.
Draco pressed even closer to Potter, and Potter muttered right into his ear, "Easy, everyone's staring at us."

Draco opened his eyes a little, not knowing he'd closed them, "No, they're not. They're trying to avoid looking at us."

He closed his eyes again, and took a deep breath. Potter was a piece of a puzzle too, the right piece that fitted on Draco perfectly.

It wasn't like getting home after a long break, no, home was nothing compared to this.
This was like feeling for the first time that he belonged to something, Potter belonged to him.

He wished the song would never, ever end.

The lyrics told him this moment would make him, or Potter, love again. Please, let it be like that, he thought desperately.
Please, sweet Saviour of the Wizarding World, Potter, leave him and run away with me, and I'll always be good to you, I'll dance with you until the world ends.

It did end – it ended right then, as the song ended, way too early, and Potter pulled away from his embrace, leaving his skin too cold.

He stared numbly into Potter's green, oh so green, eyes and tried to swallow but his throat was dry.

Potter stared right back and muttered, "I think you just outed me to the whole world."

Draco felt like the green tie was strangling him, "You're welcome."

Oliver Wood was suddenly there, wrapping an arm around Harry, and Harry obediently wrapped his arms around the boy, and they hugged. Right there in the middle of all the people.

Draco left, as soon as he got out of the hall, he started running, ripping at the tie impatiently before it would strangle him to death.

He collapsed on his bed and grabbed the pillow, he pressed his face tightly against it, so tightly he knew he wouldn't be able to breathe, but even that didn't help, and he started crying for the first time after his parents' funerals, one year and a half ago.


It happened next week, only a couple of days after the night of dancing. Draco knew it as soon as he went to breakfast.

Wood was sitting on Draco's seat, and Potter was sitting next to an empty seat.

Draco felt nervous but forced himself to take the seat next to Potter. Potter didn't meet his gaze, so Draco didn't speak to him.

Everything would've been like it was before the night of the dance, except that the dance night had happened, and it had made Draco's life more difficult, as the feelings for Potter still refused to disappear.

The Boy Who Was Draco's Day Dream wasn't even eating much, he looked sad and tired. There was no way he was still together with Wood.

Draco decided Potter needed some time alone, so he left Potter alone for the time being.


He saw Potter at breaks, and at lunches, dinners, breakfasts, but Potter still wasn't speaking to him.

One night he risked it once more; and left to Potter's private room. He could hear all the way in the corridor the song, THE song, and he knocked gently.
He didn't hear footsteps or voice telling him to enter, so he knocked again, a little harder.

There was no answer, but he wanted to see Potter, so he put his hand on the door handle and twisted. The door opened and he stepped in, closed the door behind him, and let his eyes adapt to the darkness.

Potter was lying on the bed, his back to Draco, so he stepped closer and yet closer, until he was right beside him. He carefully gazed over Potter's shoulder and Potter had his eyes open, he knew Potter saw him although he didn't have his glasses on.

Draco simply said, "Hi."

Potter didn't move, or answer, but his fist clenched the pillow a little harder.

Draco straightened his back, took a deep breath, braced himself for whatever might come, and sat down on the edge.

After some hesitation he placed his hand on Potter's shoulder, massaged it gently.

Potter turned around unexpectedly, and placed his hands on Draco's shirt, and pulled.

Draco collapsed on top of him, climbed and crawled until he could bury his whole body in Potters warmth.
He breathed in Potter's neck; way better than ever coming home.

Potter's arms were tight around Draco's lower back, and Draco murmured right into Potter's ear,
"You okay?"

Potter's voice was thick, "No, I'm not okay."

Draco relaxed completely and whispered, "Okay."

He stayed right there, and let himself get used to the feeling of having Potter there, having what belonged to him. The lyrics of the song were washing over him, and over again, and then from the beginning.

They lay like that for what could've been half an hour, until Potter muttered, "Can you turn it off?"

"Sure," Draco answered, lazily pulled his wand out, performed the spell and dropped his wand on the bed.

Potter was quiet for a moment, and Draco didn't want to move or talk, he wanted to stay.

"I need to tell you something," Potter said, his voice was still thick.

Draco kept breathing in the scent, not letting his lips get further away from the neck, "Tell me."

Potter swallowed, Draco could both hear and feel it. Potter's fingers were tightening on his lower back, pressing into the skin like he was in pain.


He never thought hearing that name would feel good but it did.

"I can't… I can't be with you." Potter said, but he was clearly having difficulties getting the words out, his breathing kept stopping at times, then he breathed hastily like the air wasn't reaching his lungs, or wasn't enough.

Draco didn't panic, Potter's body kept moving under him with his erratic, useless struggle to get the air to reach his lungs. Draco kissed Potter's neck very gently, barely touching the wonderful, soft skin.

"I can't." Potter repeated and his nails were digging into Draco's skin so hard it almost hurt, but Draco didn't mind. He breathed in Potter's scent again.

When Potter was swallowing hard, Draco asked, "Why not?"

Potter relaxed a little, maybe because Draco was staying so calm, "I um… I was once in a relationship. About half a year ago."

Draco wasn't expecting anything like this so he lifted his head and met Potter's eyes. Potter clenched his jaw but forced the words out,

"He lived with me, at my place. I loved him. I told him I loved him. One day I came home and… he was gone. There was only a note on the table, saying he was sorry, that we just weren't meant to be, and…"

Draco could see where this was going now, he stroked Potter's cheek gently, he felt like kissing Potter and shutting him up, but he let the boy speak,

"I was so heart broken, you have no idea. I can't understand why he didn't give me any warning. If he wasn't happy, why didn't he tell me? When you and I were in the bar and… Thomas was so nice! How can you just decide to come to Hogwarts, and leave him, just like that? You said it yourself, just like that."

Potter clenched his jaw again.

Draco almost started to defend himself, but Potter got the next line, "How could you do that? I could never be with you, never. I would never put myself into a position, where you could do that to me."

The green eyes were filling up with tears and Draco wasn't sure if he had ever felt sympathy like that. He was sorry someone had mistreated Potter.

How could anyone hurt the sweet, little, Gryffindor angel like that?

Draco muttered, "I'm sorry someone's hurt you, but I never would. I would never do that to you, never."

Potter didn't say anything; Draco gently brushed a tear away from the boy's cheek, and kept staring into the green sadness.

Potter whispered, "Do you have any idea what you might've done to that poor man? It could take him years to fall in love again, not to mention to even trust anyone after that. I liked to be with Wood!"

Potter was suddenly shouting at the end of the sentence, but Draco wasn't intimidated by that,

"I liked to be with him. He was nice and he made me feel like I could trust people again."

Draco didn't know what to say to that, so he kept brushing the wet cheek with his thumb.

Potter was silent for a couple of deep breaths, before he was angry again, "He left me. He left me! And you know why? Because he knew I had feelings for you. I told him you and I would never happen, and he didn't believe me!"

Draco returned his gaze into the green eyes, the anger there was familiar, and the tears weren't, but they looked like something Draco could drink happily.

He brushed Potter's lips with his thumb and stared at the lovely lips, which he knew should belong to him, his whisper was hoarse,

"Potter, I would never hurt you."

He leaned in, and kissed Potter so gently he could barely feel it. Potter breathed against Draco's lips and said,

"But you are. You're hurting me right now."

Draco licked Potter's lips gently and kissed him, gently but thoroughly, brushing the Gryffindor lips. His hand was automatically holding Potter's chin in a soft grip, and he dipped his tongue in, between the softest of lips, and Potter still wasn't responding.

He didn't mind. He kept kissing him, and kissing him, licking and sucking the boy's lips, pushing his tongue in the boy's mouth again, until finally Potter was with him, kissing back, like he'd woken up suddenly.

Potter's tongue was wrapping itself around Draco's, like a snake, then brushing long strokes against it.

Draco's lips were all over Potter's mouth, gently, caressing him into the sweetest bliss.

He pulled back just enough to say, "Potter… I love you. Let me make the Unbreakable vow, and I promise I'll never leave you."

Potter breathed against Draco's lips, and Draco added, "I'll do anything you want me to do. Anything. I can't change your past, and not mine either, but I can decide my own future regarding you. If you want to leave me some day, that's fine, but I won't ever leave you, no matter what you say or do."

Potter took a deep breath, and then his lips were covering Draco's, who moaned in surprise but kissed back fiercely, pushing his tongue, as far as he could reach.

It went on, and on, and on, Potter's hands were under his shirt, running up and down his back, stroking his skin.
Potter muttered, "I don't want you to do an Unbreakable."

Draco whispered against the lips, "I really want to do one. There's no way I'll leave any room for your mistrust."

Potter whispered back, "Will you apologize to him?"

Draco wondered who Potter meant, the thought was so far away, "Yeah, I'll explain and apologize. But how could anyone not understand that I had to come here because of you, Potter."

The End.