kadollan | A Harry/Draco Thing

Okay, so the current story I'm writing is going to end up a trio fic, but Harry has an encounter with Draco along the way. (There's context. Honest!) Harry has just been to see the Bloody Baron, to ask about the mysterious disappearances of Hogwarts' ghosts. Draco (for reasons of his own) is the one who arranged the meeting. This is what happened directly afterwards.

Harry stalked down the hall. He wasn’t walking, he wasn’t running. No, he was stalking. He could not believe what the bloody Bloody Baron, and Ron’s name for him seemed less ridiculous now that Harry’d met him, had told Draco about him.

Okay, so, it was true. The bloody hat had nearly put Harry in Slytherin. Well, he’d convinced the hat differently, hadn’t he? He hadn’t bloody wanted to be in Slytherin. He was a Gryffindor. He belonged in Gryffindor, and Gryffindor was where he’d stay.

Harry was dimly aware that Draco was still with him, even though they were nearly out of the dungeons and up to the main levels of the castle. Needing a convenient target for his anger, Harry whirled on Draco.

“Why don’t you slither back into your hole, Slytherin?” Harry spat.

Draco smirked at Harry, completely unimpressed with his temper. “Still trying to pretend you’re superior, Potter?” he asked, silkily. “Nearly named one of us, were you? I’ll bet you’ve had some trouble reconciling that with your famous Gryffindorian ideals.”

“I told the bloody hat no, Draco. I begged it not to place me among the serpents. I would rather have gone back to living with the muggle bastards that raised me then to have become like you.” Breathing heavily, Harry struggled to maintain his composure. Neither boy realized that Harry had called Draco by his given name.

“Your problem is that you are like me. You’re smart, you’re ambitious, and you play for keeps. Find that a bit uncomfortable? If it came down to you and You-Know-Who, you’d fight to win, you’d win because it matters. What’s that if not ambition?”

“I’m not like you. I’d fight to win against Voldemort,” he deliberately, viciously used his name and enjoyed watching Draco flinch, “because if I lost everyone I ever loved or cared for would lose too. You don’t love anyone but yourself.”

Draco’s face contorted with grief and rage. The emotions were gone almost before Harry registered them. “You don’t know who I’ve loved. Or who I’ve lost.”

Harry opened his mouth. Whether to continue the argument, to ask what Draco had meant or to apologize, he was never entirely sure. Before he knew what was happening, Draco had shoved him back against the wall of the corridor. His head cracked against the stones, as Draco’s body slammed against his.

Harry fought for breath as Draco’s mouth suddenly closed on his own. Completely surprised, Harry didn’t react at all, and allowed Draco to plunder his mouth. It was a hard kiss, entirely unlike the sweet, but uninspiring kisses he’d shared with Cho the year before. This was hot, and rough, and violent.

Harry felt himself responding, and couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel. Draco was incredibly, completely there in a way that Harry had never experienced before. It was as though every other encounter had been a pale precursor to this.

Suddenly, Harry came back to himself and realized that he was standing in a corridor, with Malfoy, and snogging. Shoving Draco away, Harry wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Chests heaving, the two stared at one another for a tense moment before Draco drew a ragged breath.

“Potter---“ Before he could finish, Harry turned and nearly threw himself at the stairs and away from Draco. He ran through the castle’s nearly deserted halls not stopping until he was at the Fat Lady’s portrait. Angels and Ministers of Grace defend us. Had Malfoy just KISSED him? Had he just, and here was the real kicker, had he just enjoyed it? Of course not.

Oh god.

He was way past banging his head on a bookcase and repressing now. Harry leaned against the castle wall and slowly sunk to the floor.

And why Malfoy? Oh god. Malfoy, of all people. Ferret-boy. He was going to spread this all over the school. He would become Harry Potter the Boy Who Snogged Other Boys.

Oh god.

Harry stood up and muttered “snap out of it” to himself. This was going to become his new mantra, he decided. “Snap out of it.”

“Snap out of it, snap out of it, snap out of it.”

“That’s not the password, dear.” The Fat Lady clucked at him, disapprovingly.

“You’re telling me,” he muttered. “Wormwood.”

What think you?