Cut My Heart Out

"Hmmm, you smell nice," Hermione commented as Harry sat down to breakfast. "Have you been at my perfume again?"

Harry hurriedly motioned for her to quieten down while he checked no one had heard what she'd said.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "it's not like it's a secret."

"Why do you smell so strange?" asked Ron, his long nose trying to analyse the scent of Harry's hair. As he drew closer he noticed something and jumped back looking shocked.

"Oh Gods, do I have a spider on me?" Harry tried to peer at his own collar.

"You have... you've got something on your neck!" Ron squeaked.

Harry touched the love bite gingerly. Well, damn.

Hermione's lips went very thin with a familiar expression of disapproval. "So that's why you were nowhere to be found yesterday evening. You were with a girl."

Harry spluttered. "NO!"

Ron suddenly sighed like he'd just realised something.

"Ah, of course, it all makes sense now."

"What does?"

"I mean, wow, you're a quick worker."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"She said you'd talked... Harry, I can't believe you managed to pull Calliope! Of all the fit birds she is - "

"Ron! I wasn't with Calliope, OK? I just had a rather long bath."

There was silence for a while. Finally, Hermione spoke up.

"You were with someone, weren't you?"

Harry said nothing.

"Who was it, Harry? You can tell us," she coaxed him softly.

"Just drop it, Hermione."

Harry got up and glanced across the Great Hall. Draco was watching him and also got up. They were making their way to the wooden doors when Draco's path became obstructed by a small thunderbolt, almost ploughing Draco down.

Colin Creevey stood, his outsize camera pinned to his face.

"Draco, Draco! MR MALFOY! Can I have a picture? You were great at Slytherin's last Quidditch match, though I know I'm not supposed to say so," he gabbled, "please, please, please can I have a picture? Say cheese!"

Draco's shocked face was frozen in the flash. He pushed the younger boy aside and followed Harry out.

"That stupid Creevey cunt. Always taking my photo. And then he gives me sodding things when he's processed them. He gave me THIS yesterday. Took it last year, apparently."

Draco waved a small photograph around, an expression of disdain on his elf-like features. "Here - YOU have it," he said, pressing the photograph into Harry's hand. Harry examined it. It showed Draco sitting on a chair all alone, looking quietly fed up and very put-upon. Harry smiled and tucked it into his robes. He looked up to see the real Draco staring at him intently.

"Either I kiss you now or I hurl myself down the stairs. I mean, those really nasty stairs near McGonagall's office. The ones with the really sharp-"

Harry kissed him lightly, running his hand through Draco's soft hair. He could smell last night's bubble bath on him too.

"What about this Blue Moon thing, eh? We're not supposed to bring a date, so it would be excellent if we could meet there, have some drinks, remove some clothes..." Harry trailed off as Draco muzzled his neck.

"It promises to be a very special night," he whispered into Harry's black hair.

"People will be... going to lessons soon. Maybe we should go?" Harry asked. He half hoped Draco would suggest they hop on their broomsticks and spend the day relaxing on the roof. He was disappointed when Draco just nodded reluctantly and let him go. A split second later the doors to the Great Hall flew open and the corridor became crammed with students, fighting to get to their lessons. Draco gave Harry a small smile and walked away.

* * *

Harry couldn't help glancing at the picture every five minutes. He thought he'd never tire of watching Draco's eyes fall closed, his long eyelashes lying on his cheeks, and then flitting painfully open to stare listlessly at something out of the frame. He looked so disheartened and lonely it broke Harry's heart. Without his smirk and alarming self-confidence, Harry felt like he was looking at a picture of Draco completely naked. This thought, of course, induced several minutes of erotic fantasy.

Harry met Hermione at lunch. She seemed very quiet and Harry suddenly remembered what had happened last time they had spoken.

"I'm sorry I was so rude earlier," he said quietly.

Hermione seem startled but then brightened. "It's OK. You've obviously got something on your mind. Just remember, we're your friends, and you can talk to us." There was a pause. "It was Calliope, wasn't it?"

"Hermione! No!"

"Sorry, I just had to check. It's just you two would be so good together."

Harry mumbled something about that perhaps not being such a great idea.

"Are you blind, Harry? She's obviously crazy about you. And just because she's in Slytherin doesn't mean she's like Malfoy!"

Harry tried to smile. He felt so guilty. How could he hide something like this from his friends? He would tell them. First, however, he had to make sure how serious Draco was. Even though it was so early on in the relationship, Harry knew there was something special happening. The way Draco's touch made him shiver and the mere sound of his voice made Harry's spine crumble....

Without thinking, Harry stuck his fork into a pork sausage and took a bite. He grimaced instantly as an image of a sow hanging by her rear legs, throat cut, bleeding dry plastered itself into his head. Harry retched and put his fork down. Hermione looked puzzled

"Not hungry?" she asked, shovelling chicken pie into her mouth.

Harry went red. It's just that..." he gestured towards all the platters of meat, "all this... seems so..."

"You don't like the food? Harry, I don't understand."

"It's cruel. I mean, all this meat. We eat it everyday and there's always so much of it, I keep thinking of Pigwidgeon and that stupid farm... what are you laughing at?"

Hermione chuckled into her lunch. "Harry, this is the wizarding world. Meat is GROWN. No animals involved. Do you think I'd eat it if it did?"

Harry remembered Hermione's house-elf obsession and decided she probably wouldn't.

* * *

Harry quietly closed the door that led into the corridor and sat on the most comfortable chair he could find. Moonlight poured in through a high window and Harry bathed in it. He smiled. Tonight would be special he was sure of it.

The door creaked slowly open and Draco tiptoed inside. In the half-light he didn't notice Harry and went to sit down on his favourite chair. He was surprised the chair was so warm... and so soft. Draco automatically started to snuggle down when the chair put its arms around him and inserted its tongue into his ear with great deliberation.

"Harry..." Draco sighed in relief. He would never admit this but the idea of being molested by a chair had had him quite panicked.

Draco moved off Harry and lit one of the wall lamps. Warm, flickering light made the shadows in the room perform strange aerobic exercises.

"This room used to be used for Divination, but apparently it wasn't mystical enough for that crazy Trelawney bitch," Draco drawled, lying back on a rather decrepit sofa. "I used to come here a lot. It's a good place to think, it's very private..."

"Shame we can't use the dormitories, Harry said, wistfully. While sneaking around was exciting, it felt like a stupid way to carry on a relationship. Like they should be ashamed of what they were doing.

Draco nodded and smiled slightly. Then, he jumped up.

"Just remembered! I got you this," he said, extending his hand. Balanced in his palm was a small, shiny black disc. Harry accepted it and examined it closely. Draco had given him a pebble?

"It's an ekdosis," Draco explained when he saw Harry's puzzled look. "It's a Greek invention - while you hold it alone it doesn't do anything, but if I..." Draco leaned forward and placed a finger on the disc. All around Harry colours whirled. He closed his eyes but it made no difference. Either his eyelids had become see-through or these colours were in his head. Neither explanation was particularly comforting.

Slowly things came into focus. Harry was lying next to Draco under a tree. It was spring, and the breeze brought a shower of pale blossom down on them. They seemed to be on a hill, overlooking a beautiful landscape of meadows and woods. The only sound was of a lark singing somewhere.

"Like it? You can change the scenery if you like."

Harry rolled closer to Draco and leant his head on his chest. "It's amazing," he said, awe-struck. "How do you change it?"

"Dekate."

The colours swirled into each other again and painted a different scene. Harry's head was still on Draco's chest. This time, he was lying on rock. A dark, angry sky coated the top of his vision. He heard a cruel wind whistling and waves crashing and looked up to survey his surroundings. The rock they were lying on was on a beach. Before them, waves attacked the silver sands. It was strangely cold. Harry lay against Draco and concentrated on how his heartbeat was so much in time with the waves. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he heard himself whisper. He paused. He could smell Draco. He was so used to that smell and it reminded him of all the nights they had spent just being together.

"I love you," he whispered sleepily. The words froze in the air. Draco tensed under Harry. Harry sat up and gazed earnestly into his lover's stormy eyes. Which turned to stone.

Draco pushed Harry off and stood up. He seemed taller and quite forbidding against the furious sky.

"Thesmophoria."

Colours blurred and twisted and eventually settled to form the abandoned Divination room. Draco gathered himself up and started to move towards the door. Harry lay slumped on the chair, completely bewildered. Draco turned just before he reached the door.

"And I will NEVER love you, Potter. This is ridiculous. I was stupid to think you wouldn't bring too much into this."

"So... that dance?"

"Get a girl. Get a fucking life. Just keep the hell away from me."