Afternoon Daze

Afternoon Daze.

Harry was nonplussed. "Ron, why are you leading me back to our dorm?"

Ron turned to face him, still holding his wrist and guiding him through the passage ways and corridors of Hogwarts. "I've been instructed to take you to your birthday present," he muttered, somewhat sourly, and that really didn't answer any of Harry's questions.

"Who instructed you?" Harry wondered, as he saw it perfectly sensibly. There were few people who had either the gumption or the authority to instruct his best friend to do anything: well, it was pretty much Hermione, and he didn't think Ron would be quite as sour about the whole deal if she was behind this.

Ron stopped at the portrait hole, whispering the password, and as the portrait swayed open, he tugged gently on Harry's wrist and pulled him through.

"Birthday present?" Harry squawked, his mind finally catching up with the words Ron had uttered. "You know I don't like people to make a fuss, Ron, I'm just not comfortable with it..."

His words faded away when Ron gave him his best 'I'm actually not caring' look, and padded up the stairs towards the Sixth Year dorms.

"Is this Hermione's idea?" he asked timidly, and Ron snorted. "No, and she doesn't know about it, either. It's all him, trust me."

"Him?" Harry wondered, and realisation dawned. "I told him I didn't want him to make a fuss," he murmured, caught between fondness and exasperation.

Ron stopped at the entrance to the dorm, and looked at the young man standing next to him, an eyebrow raised. "And of course, he did exactly what you told him," he retorted, sarcastically. "Merlin, Harry, you could both gives mules lessons in how to be stubborn." Ron gave Harry a little prod into the dorm. "Don't worry," he affirmed, "it's empty. We made sure of that." He turned to leave, but stopped midway, and blushed, not looking at Harry. "I hope you enjoy your present," he mumbled, stumbling over the words. "It took a lot of work to organise. And no matter what he says about me, it's a perfectly natural reaction to have in that situation," and his eyes raised to meet Harry's, and Harry was surprised to find anxiety and perhaps a touch of embarrassment there. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Righty-o", Harry mused to himself, wondering exactly when his best friend had gone completely insane. Now left alone, he moved through the empty dormitory slowly, somewhat disturbed by the stillness of it all: compared to the usual hustle-and-bustle of student life, it seemed so unnatural, as if he was the only person in the world.

He moved like a ghost through the still space, and paused when he saw that the bed at the end of the dorm, his bed, had it's curtains drawn, and he cautiously approached it. The dust danced in the air around him, reflecting from the sunlight that entered through the windows in shafts, casting a dusky golden haze over the room. It almost seemed unreal, like a dream, and when Harry reached his bed, and pulled upon the curtains sharply, it certainly seemed like a dream.

For there on the sheets, was Draco Malfoy, naked, face up and tied down, soft bands of what looked like silk encircling his wrists and ankles. "Happy Birthday, Harry" the blond murmured slyly, and Harry stood in shock for a few moments before a grin worked its way across his face, and he clambered onto the bed next to Draco.

"This certainly is a sight for sore eyes," he admitted, running one finger along Draco's pale chest, and smiling as Draco sighed gently in response. He leaned in close to Draco's ear, and whispered softly, "Why did you do it?"

He was shocked to see fear in Draco's eyes in response, and pulled back.

Draco licked his lips, eyes locked onto Harry, and avoided the question. "What, don't you enjoy the show? The Weasel certainly did. Probably had to imagine McGonagall naked before he could tame his erection."

That did explain Ron's reaction, and in any other situation Harry would have laughed, but that didn't explain the fear in Draco's eyes, or his avoidance of the subject. Harry moved so that he was straddling Draco's hips, and bent his head down to softly lick and kiss the smooth surface of that pale neck, Draco whimpering in protest, unable to touch Harry in return due to the bonds that captured his wrists.

After a few moments of this exquisite torture - which Harry was well experienced at, Harry sat back up again, bloody determination in his eyes. "So, tell me," he asked simply, "why did you do this?" raking his fingers gently down Draco's chest.

"It was for your birthday, Harry," Draco responded with a sly smile, but it didn't touch his eyes.

"That's not enough. You're hiding something. Perhaps I should leave?" Harry made to go, and Draco cried out instinctively.

"You're right, I am...please, just don't go."

Harry sat back down on Draco's stomach, his legs bent either side to support his weight. "Fine then," he said levelly, looking down at his lover.

"I'm not good with trust," Draco began, angling his neck so he didn't have to look at Harry, and feel his own embarrassment. Harry nodded, and waited for him to continue. Draco did. "I don't even trust you," he uttered, a small, bitter smile on his face. "Not completely. I don't think I know how to; don't think I'm capable of it." He looked up at Harry, and Harry was suddenly struck by how open and vulnerable his eyes were. "But I trust you more than I trust anyone - you could kill me now and I wouldn't be able to stop you." Harry opened his mouth to protest, and Draco shushed him. "If you tried, I wouldn't want to stop you. I love you," he said hesitantly, as if the words were uncomfortable in his mouth. "I don't say it as much as I should, but I do. And I just wanted to show you the power you have over me, I suppose. I'm most vulnerable to you and you alone."

"Ah," Harry chuckled, "I never thought I'd see the day when you submitted."

"I assure you," Draco smiled back, some of the tension gone from his face, "it's only temporary. And a one-time offer."

Harry slid down, resting his head on Draco's chest, entangling their legs - his still covered in school trousers. "But you hate me as well, don't you?"

"Yes." Harry deserved his honesty, at least. "Because you make me do these stupid things like trust and love and I don't even know where to begin at either. I'm terrified that I'm weak and vulnerable and insane, and I'm going to fail horribly, and I wouldn't even be trying if it weren't for you."

"Hmmm," Harry murmured, getting comfortable. "I'm thinking I should probably unwrap my present."

"What?" Draco asked, thrown by the sudden change of subject.

Harry looked up at him, and there was fire in his eyes. "I don't want you to submit," he grated. "I don't want you to weaken yourself for me. You don't need to show me you trust me, or make some kind of public statement, Draco. I know you hate me, and I know you love me."

An eyebrow was raised. "You mean I went to all this trouble for nothing?"

"Well, we're on a bed, and you're naked. That's hardly going to lead to a waste of time."

"I think the birthday boy should unwrap himself about now."

There was the 'ooof' of someone being hit with a pillow. "You're insufferable, Draco."

"What, you don't want sex?"

"....I never said that."