Undefined

Chapter 23

Sunlit Days

A blazing sun roused Draco the following morning, bathing the room in a soft, translucent golden hue. He cursed himself for forgetting to shut the blinds the night before, but felt too comfortable to move with Harry lying on his chest. Instead, he closed his eyes, feeling quite awake.

Only then, after everything had settled between himself and Harry did Draco fully comprehend the implications of his suspension from the Order. His father would be livid; over the past few days Draco had, in his father's eyes at least, exhibited every indication that his emotions were unruly, and that he had become, in a word, out of control. He felt Harry shift slightly, and Draco covered his eyes with his free arm, wondering if his father would pay a personal visit for this outrage or send him a nasty letter. Whichever it was, Draco wished to get it over with quickly as he did not feel inclined to waste any energy dreading the consequences of his actions.

What does it matter anyway, Draco thought, if they chuck me out or not; it's a stupid waste of time as it is. But, Draco eventually conceded, his father's temper was a very nasty thing to deal with, no matter how much resolve or apathy he felt. He looked briefly at Harry, who shifted on his side and faced Draco directly, still fast asleep. Draco realized suddenly how untroubled and peaceful Harry looked in sleep, a sharp contrast to his conscious state, where he seemed weighed down and tired no matter how much energy he exhibited. Draco ran his hand lightly through his hair, apologizing when Harry awoke.

"What time is it?" he asked groggily, reaching for his glasses.

"Dunno," Draco said, "but the sun's up."

"Really?" Harry said, sitting up. "Is that what all this light is?"

Draco wanted to skive off lessons that day, and the next and the next to make up for those lost months when he was miserable and lonely and it felt as though the sun would never shine again.

"We're probably late," Harry said, sliding into his trousers, but Draco pulled him back on top of him and kissed him. "Like I said, we're late."

"So?"

"Unless you want to land another month's detention with another professor..."

Draco pulled Harry onto him again, holding him tightly against his chest.

"Look, it's not that I don't want to," Harry said pointedly, "but we can't. Not right now ...later."

"Now," Draco demanded.

"Later," Harry said, pulling himself up. "Let's go."

Draco did not press the point, standing and dressing, and helping Harry with his tie. "It's over then under, I swear to God, you walk around looking like a right slob all the time."

"Thanks. By the way, those trousers make you look fat," Harry said, tucking his shirt tails into his trousers and pulling his cloak on.

"It's not hard to fasten a tie for God's sake."

"Leave it alone!" Harry said, pushing Draco's hand away. "It's fine."

"Don't pull it so much or you'll mess it up."

"For God's sake, can we just go?"

Draco watched as Harry retreated from the room, leaving after he felt sufficient time had passed so as not to arouse suspicion. He walked to his dormitory and retrieved his bag, and, noticing the time, ambled to the Great Hall where a few last minute stragglers remained before the final bell rang. Draco walked casually to the Slytherin table and ate a speedy breakfast of toast and sausages before heading to his first lesson.

In Care of Magical Creatures they drew a detailed diagram of Blood-Sucking Bugbears, the sight of which nearly caused Hermione to pass out. She clung to Ron throughout the lesson, cowering behind him any time the abominable creatures made a sound or sudden movement. Draco watched as Harry worked rather diligently with Neville, glancing at Draco every chance he got. Once, when the Bugbear lashed out and missed Harry by inches, Draco instinctively moved in Harry's direction, but willed himself to the spot, telling himself over and over the importance of keeping up appearances even if it went against his natural instincts. Following class, Draco walked behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering in his wake.

"Did you see Granger's face?" Pansy shrieked. "I don't know what she was so afraid of; her filthy Mudblood face alone would scare off any ruddy Bugbear!"

Draco stopped, about to say something in Hermione's defense, but turned quickly and continued up the slope, smiling slightly when Hermione turned to throw Pansy a filthy look.

By lunch, Draco felt an overwhelming urge to join Harry at the Gryffindor table as he watched the trio talk and laugh amongst themselves, while Crabbe and Goyle sat next to him in silence. He left quickly after eating, waiting outside the Transfiguration classroom, reading his text.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall said, clutching her chest as she rounded a corner. "You gave me a fright. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for class," Draco said.

"Go in by all means. I won't have you sitting on the floor."

Draco collected his things and walked into the classroom, taking his usual seat in the back. Then he had an idea: he could sit where he always sat or take a seat closer to Harry's. He weighed his options silently, finally deciding such an action would prove too brash and suspicious and, given his current position, he could take no chances. He sighed as he sat down, opening his text and reading long sentences on Vanishing spells and their properties, until chatter and laughter steadily filled the corridors. Students filed into the classroom slowly, until McGonagall entered carrying a large stack of books and placing them on her desk.

"Mr. Malfoy," she called as soon as she turned to face the class, "I'm afraid your seating arrangement will not do today. You will sit with Potter. Professor Snape and I discussed your serious lack of cooperation and we have agreed it is best if the pair of you work together as often as possible. And let me warn both of you," she said sternly as Draco gathered his things and moved to the empty seat beside Harry, giving his best effort to look as irritated as possible, "if you so much as put one finger out of line, you'll rue the day you ever caused a disruption in my classroom." She turned and pointed to the blackboard, indicating they would practice Vanishing spells.

"I just read about these," Draco whispered as McGonagall placed a mouse on their desk.

"Great," Harry said, "then you can do it for me."

"It's not hard," Draco whispered then immediately grew silent when McGonagall gave him a stern look, too afraid to speak.

At the end of the lesson, McGonagall called Draco and Harry back, waiting until the last student left before crossing the room and closing the door.

"I am seriously disappointed in the pair of you," McGonagall said in a tone that made Draco feel quite ashamed. "Especially you, Potter! I expected much better out of students in my own house!"

"It wasn't my fault!" Harry said, attempting to sound angry.

"I don't care whose fault it was! A fine role model you two serve for the younger students! And you, Mr. Malfoy! A prefect!"

She continued on, lecturing them on the importance of cooperation and tranquility within the school and threatening to flay the both of them within an inch of their lives if they ever carried on in the same manner again. "Am I making myself clear?"

They both nodded and she dismissed them, the corridors empty as they walked to their final lesson of the day, Draco's insides aching to have Harry properly alone.

At dinner he received a letter, his heart skipping a beat until he opened and saw his mother's handwriting. His heart dropped a little when he read the one sentence scrawl: What is going on? Draco re-folded the letter and stuck it in his pocket, deciding to reply later, needing time to figure out what to say. He looked down the table and noticed Pansy talking with her mouth full while Nott ostentatiously winked to a buxom Ravenclaw. At that moment, something clunked into place and he decided he would corner Nott as soon as possible.

"Can I have a word?" Draco asked, catching up with Nott as they walked back to the common room.

Nott shrugged and followed Draco silently into the Rendezvous Room.

"What's up?" Nott asked, folding his arms and leaning against the door.

"You're a lying git, aren't you?" Draco said, pleased to find he'd caught Nott sufficiently off guard to penetrate his thoughts.

"What?" Nott asked, incredulous.

"You're not loyal to the O.S., are you?" Draco asked, thrilled with the thought.

"Of course I am!"

"You can't lie to me, Nott," Draco said smoothly. "Don't even try it."

"I haven't told anyone," Nott said quickly.

"Why were you tailing me when that's Katrina's duty?" Draco said. "Don't think I'm too thick to realize no more than one member at a time is assigned a particular task. And why did you admit you fraternize with members of other Houses? How stupid are you, Nott?"

Nott said nothing, and Draco was pleased to find he didn't bother to argue the point.

"I know about you and Potter," Nott said lowly and Draco immediately slammed him against the wall. "I haven't told anyone because I know what it's like."

Draco eyed him suspiciously, knowing he was being completely truthful.

"People like you and I, with the families and the fathers we have, we can't parade it, can we? There's nothing to do but live a lie."

Draco released him, and walked away, the realization that Nott had known all this time and not said anything filling him with both terror and relief. Draco'd seen Nott consort with plenty of girls, but looking back he also realized he'd noticed him in corners with plenty of blokes from other Houses as well, always stepping away at the right moment so as not to arouse suspicion. And with this, Draco realized Nott wasn't the unbelievably stupid one--he was.

"How long? Draco asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"A while," Nott said, taking a seat on the floor. "I knew for sure when I saw you two walking down the corridor to the prefect's bathroom."

Draco nodded silently before asking the question he'd been burning to ever since Nott confessed. "What about you?"

Nott exhaled deeply. "Me? Christ, as far back as I can remember. But once I got here, I just knew, you know? The first time was last year."

"With who?" Draco asked.

"That Justin Finch-Fletchley bloke."

Draco smiled. "Who else?"

"Loads," Nott said and Draco, for the first time, felt very inexperienced, "from all Houses."

"What about Gryffindors?" Draco asked. "Aren't they your favorite?"

"Wood," Nott said, smiling broadly as though relishing in the memory.

"No," Draco said astounded. "He's--"

"Oh yes," Nott said, closing his eyes. "Yes, he is."

"Any good?"

"Oh yes," Nott said again. "Very. What about Potter?"

"What about him?" Draco asked, sounding very defensive.

"You know...how is he?"

"None of your business," Draco snapped. He was not about to divulge such information to Nott, especially given his underhanded nature.

"I told you," Nott said sounding injured.

"So?"

"Fine, don't say," Nott said, shrugging. "I never would have thought him though. Or you for that matter."

"Good," Draco said. "That's how it's going to stay."

"I especially never would have thought you and him, but I guess it makes sense."

"How do you reckon that?" Draco snapped.

"You were always at one another's throats all those years; there had to be a bit more to it than hatred." And Draco realized he'd never thought of it in that way: that all those years it wasn't pure loathing that drove him to treat Harry as he did, but an unknown need for something he didn't think Harry would ever willingly or knowingly give him.

"All right, enough of this," Draco said, knowing there was no point in making Nott promise-to-the-ends-of-the-earth-to-never-tell given the information Nott had just confessed. "Tell me what you're really up to in the O.S."

"The Order's falling apart at the seams," Nott said. "Everyone in it is too stupid to see that. What I'm doing isn't wrong, it's natural. I'm looking out for myself."

"Are you running to the Dark Lord?" Draco asked.

"I'm not saying who I'm running to, and it would endanger both of us if I did. If you ever get sick of the O.S. maybe we can talk," Nott said cryptically as he left, leaving Draco alone to ruminate.

Ron and Hermione accompanied Harry to the Room of Requirement later that night. Draco sat anxiously by the fire, the day too long and their separation growing more painful as the hours ticked by.

"Hermione." Draco stood as soon as she entered.

"There's no need to thank me," she said looking very rested and back to her normal self. "I'm just glad it's over with."

They sat and talked for at least a quarter of an hour before Ron stood and announced his intentions to go to bed and then cast Hermione a furtive look.

"There's a room by the kitchens," Draco said cryptically, "which is very out of the way and quiet."

Hermione blushed as Ron smiled appreciatively and they exited. Draco looked around the room as though making sure they were truly alone.

"They've gone," Harry said, whereupon Draco grabbed him and threw him to the floor, not intending to take it slow and easy that night. This was a night for unbridled raw passion as Draco feverishly pulled at Harry's clothes and smothered him with kisses. Harry returned in kind, ripping at Draco's shirt and trousers, until Draco moved to go down on him, then, as though thinking of it for the first time, he turned so that he hovered just above Harry's mouth.

"Take it in your mouth," Draco said patiently, as he simultaneously went down on Harry.

Why they'd never thought of doing this before he didn't know; he'd done it plenty of times with girls in the past, but then it had seemed so choreographed. With Harry, it sent convulsions through him and he appreciated the pleasure he inflicted as much as he appreciated receiving it. He sucked harder, feeling his legs tremble and quake as Harry worked expertly with his mouth. Draco realized how much more experienced and confidant Harry'd grown over the past few months.

He pulled away for a moment to moan loudly and grip the fringes of the carpet, bucking his hips, feeling himself reach the brink in a way he never thought possible. Between his moans, he reached down and stroked Harry, crying out as he felt Harry's tongue make wonderful and delicious movements. Taking a deep breath, Draco took Harry into his mouth once again, feeling himself move closer and closer to the brink, calling upon every un-stimulating image to keep his climax at bay: he thought of Snape and McGonagall, his father and Dumbledore, Quidditch on a snowy day and tea at his grandmother's house, until he reached that point where he could have been sucked off by Cornelius Fudge himself and it would not have mattered as Harry squirmed uncontrollably and they both gripped one another, crying out simultaneously in climax.

"We should have done that ages ago," Harry panted.