Beneath You

Chapter Nine

I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and
You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies
So this is the way
that I say that I need You
This is the way
That I say I love You
This is the way
That I say I'm Yours
--Learning to Breathe, Switchfoot

“It’s just an ordinary day,” Draco told himself, as he sat at the window in the Slytherin dungeons, just before dawn. The giant squid was out already, breaking up the ice that had formed the night before, and Draco tilted his head as he watched. Somehow, even if it was like every other morning, at the same time, it wasn’t. How could it be, when everything had changed?

He hadn’t slept much the night before. He’d lain up all night, trying to think of ways that this could go wrong, that he could be hurt. After all, nothing he ever tried to do turned out the way he wanted it to. Just look at the whole journal thing. Rather than having control over Potter, being able to command Potter…Well. He wanted to… kiss him. It had been completely unforeseen, though in retrospect, he couldn’t imagine it turning out any other way.

It all seemed to make a bit more sense at breakfast, however, when he walked into the Great Hall and Harry seemed instantly to sense him there, glancing over and smiling, a slight, lopsided and secretive smile. Draco returned it, even as he rolled his eyes indulgently and went to his own table.

“You alright, Draco?” Pansy asked, as he took his seat beside her.

“You look pale,” Goyle added, though he hadn’t looked up.

“He always looks pale,” Pansy snapped, rolling her eyes in irritation.

“I’m fine, where’s Crabbe?” Draco replied, changing the subject.

Goyle shrugged. “When I sat near her, he refused to sit with me.” He shrugged.

“Oh.”

They finished breakfast and made their way to Potions. Pansy seemed determined to make up for his unusually quiet mood by talking three times as much as usual, though he didn’t mind. Goyle had gone off to find Crabbe.

They had been learning about Wolfsbane Potion, and that day was to be their first class in which Snape taught them to brew it.

He was looking grim, probably imagining all the ways they were going to screw up what was a very difficult and complex concoction, and started the class off by saying, “I don’t suppose any student in this class is capable of brewing this potion alone. That said, I’ve decided that the only way any of you stand a chance of getting it right is if you are combined into larger groups. You will brew your potions in groups of three. Make up your groups and send someone up to the front to get your ingredients. Hurry up.”

“Oi, Pansy!” Weasley cried at once, after Snape had finished talking. “I’ll be in your group!” He still wasn’t speaking to Harry.

Pansy shot Draco a beseeching look. “Sorry, Draco, do you mind?”

“Excuse me? Work with Weasley? Willingly?”

“Please, Draco?” she begged.

“You’re welcome to him, Pansy, but I’ll find another group.” He walked away quickly, rolling his eyes. Weasley took his seat, and Draco made his way over to Harry’s table.

“You can’t be in our group,” Granger said at once.

“Can’t he?” Harry asked, one eyebrow raised.

“I refuse to work with him,” Granger said stuffily.

“Oh, shut up, Hermione,” Harry said mildly, moving his stuff aside so Draco could sit beside him. Draco smiled at her smugly even as Harry finished. “Who else are we going to have in our group? Everyone’s already gotten into groups of three, there’s no one else. Besides, he’s almost as good at Potions as you are.” His tone was teasing and he reached over and took Draco’s hand under the table, smiling at him.

“Well, if you would apologize to Ron already,” she snapped, “We wouldn’t have to work with Malfoy out of desperation. Be in our group, see if I care, but we better get 100%, Draco Malfoy, or you’ll pay. If you screw this up…” She scowled, shaking her head. “I’ll go get the ingredients.

Draco snorted. “Bitchy little thing, isn’t she?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t piss her off, Draco, I’d like to have at least a few friends when the day is over.”

“You don’t need friends, Potter, you’ve got me.”

Harry’s face felt rather warm, and he smiled almost shyly. “That’s right, I do, don’t I?”

Draco smiled at him. Before he could say anything, Granger had returned, depositing their ingredients on the table.

Harry had never had a more interesting Potions class. It wasn’t the Wolfsbane Potion, though that would come in handy. It was the interesting interactions of Hermione and Draco, both who seemed incredibly possessive of him. Draco seemed always to find a way to touch him, whether it be just touching his hand as he reached for something, leaning close enough to brush his shoulder against Harry’s, or under the table, where sometimes, Draco would touch Harry’s hand or his leg. Hermione didn’t notice, because everything looked perfectly accidental, though she did seem blatantly to be ignoring Draco, forcing Harry to speak to her and look at her, pay attention to her, and if he seemed to drift off, she’d kick him under the table. Draco, of course, noticed all of this and found it incredibly amusing to try to distract Harry, if only because it was driving Hermione mad, and more likely because he found the most interesting ways to distract him.

All he had to do was say Harry’s name and Harry would jump a little and turn towards him, forgetting Hermione existed.

By the end of class, she was watching them both with narrow eyes.

She packed up her things, still shooting suspicious glances at the two of them. Draco further unnerved her by smiling very sweetly, and she leapt out of her chair.

They started cleaning up the potion ingredients in silence, and just as they’d finished, Draco knocked over a beaker of Emery blood.

“Oh, bother,” he said, not sounding bothered at all.

Hermione stared at the pool of blood in disgust. “Malfoy, honestly, I don’t have time for this, I’ve got an exam in my next class!”

“Go on, Hermione,” Harry said quickly. “We’ll do it.”

Her eyes narrowed once more and she watched as Harry reached for a rag to clean the mess up with. Draco reached for the same one at the same second and their hands brushed, staying in contact for a few seconds too long.

“Mmm. Yes. Uhh. I’ll see you at lunch, Harry,” she said distractedly, before hurrying out of the classroom. Most of the other students had left as well, leaving only Snape to sourly take stock of the damage. He was too busy inspecting the sad attempts at the potion to take much notice of Harry and Draco, who quickly cleaned up the blood. Then, laughing breathlessly, Harry let Draco grab him by the arm and tug him into the hall.

“C’mon,” he said. “We’ve got to hurry.”

“Hurry? Why? Draco, I’ve got class.”

“Exactly. And we don’t want to be too late, do we? People will get suspicious.” He grinned over his shoulder, and they took off running down a corridor, up a flight of stairs, and into the wing that led to the greenhouses. Harry started laughing halfway up the stairs and didn’t stop until they’d ducked into the arch over Greenhouse Three. Even still, every few seconds, he’d snicker breathlessly.

“What if someone sees?” Harry asked, though he didn’t really care.

“They won’t,” Draco promised. “Sprout always needs a bit of time to prepare for her next class, to finish up whatever didn’t get done and needs to be done immediately. All her teaching blocks are scattered, so no one’ll be down here now.”

“Mmm,” Harry murmured, too distracted to really care. Draco was kissing him and nothing else mattered. He tightened his grip on Draco’s hand, closing his eyes, and their hands and lips were the only place they touched.

“This is very strange,” Harry said when Draco pulled away.

Draco smiled. “But I like it.”

“Do it again then.”

Smirking, Draco kissed him again, rough and playfully, biting at his lips and making Harry laugh, breathless giggles cut off every now and again by another kiss.

Draco was nibbling on his earlobe and Harry had closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the door, when there was a startled gasp.

The next thing he knew, Draco was being shoved off of him and someone was shouting hysterically, “Harry, Harry, what was he doing to you? Is he a vampire? I knew it!”

Still rather dazed, Harry stared at Ginny, his eyes clouded over. Taking that as a sign that a vampire had indeed just attacked him, Ginny spun towards Draco, who was also feeling rather disoriented. “You bastard, what have you done to him?” she cried.

“Ginny,” Harry said, shaking his head a little.

“Don’t talk, Harry, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” Ginny said, standing protectively in front of him and glowering at Draco, who, for the first time in his life, kept darting unsure glances at Harry. He didn’t know how to react to this, if Harry wanted to keep it a secret.

“Ginny,” Harry said, firmer this time. “Draco didn’t bite me.” Draco looked as if he were about to argue and Harry amended quickly, “Well, he didn’t drink my blood, anyway.”

She spun around to face him. “Oh really?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Then what was he doing, necking with you?”

Harry’s eyes flew to Draco and Draco smirked a little. “Ginny,” Harry said, very gently, even as he reached over and took Draco’s hand. Rather relieved, Draco let himself be tugged to stand at Harry’s side.

Ginny’s eyes widened very slowly as she stared at their joined hands, letting out a confused whimper. “I’ve… I forgot my book,” she said slowly, wide eyes flying from Draco, watching her with rather detached amusement, and Harry, who was struggling to find someway to make this less awkward.

“Did you find it?” Draco asked, after the silence became too dreadful even for him.

She held up a book as proof. “Uh huh.”

“Then be on your way. We’re rather busy.”

She nodded like a puppet and, still pale and startled, turned and mechanically walked down the hall.

Harry waited until she was gone. Then he started swearing.

Draco rolled his eyes. “It really wasn’t as harsh as it could have been.”

“You don’t understand. She tells her brother everything.”

“Ah. So you wanted this a secret?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “No. I wanted to tell Ron myself, after he’d gotten over the fact that he thinks I’ve been messing with Ginny’s head deliberately and trying to hurt her. He’s very dense when it comes to his sister.”

“He’s very dense about a lot of things.”

Harry ignored him. “He’ll hate me. He’ll never understand. Draco, he won’t understand.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Draco said quietly, seeing the sincere panic in Harry’s eyes. “You understand and I understand and he doesn’t matter.”

“He’s my best friend. You wouldn’t understand…”

“Oh, of course not, I have no friends, only servants, and they call me your majesty,” Draco said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Harry glanced at him and cried, “This is really important, can you be serious for even a minute here?”

“I’m always serious! I just don’t see the concern!”

“That’s because you hate him! He can’t hate me. He was the first friend I’ve ever had.”

“You could be jumping ahead of yourself, Harry. Maybe he’ll understand.”

“Understand that his sister who’s in love with me caught me making out with not only another guy, but the guy who’s made his life hell for seven years?”

Draco brightened considerably at that. “Made his life hell? Really? Well, I do try.”

Harry glared at him. “Draco. You’re not helping.”

He sighed. “It’s simple. You’ve just got to tell Weasley before his sister gets to him. He’s in class now anyway, as we should be. We’re very late.”

Harry still looked uncertain. “I didn’t want anyone to know,” he said quietly.

“Ashamed?” Draco asked coldly, sneering.

“No. It was a secret, it was just ours, no one else knew about it. It was…secret. The only thing I’ve ever had that no one else knew about.”

Draco smiled at him. “We’ve got to get to class, Harry. You can tell Weasley whatever you want after that. I’ll even come with you if you want.”

Harry looked relieved. “You will? That’ll probably infuriate him more, but… it’ll make it easier for me.”

“Of course I’ll come with you,” Draco said, looking pained at the thought of willingly associating with Weasley. Harry looked relived and he took his hand and they walked off down the hall together.

***

As soon as his last class ended, Harry met Draco in the Great Hall and they went to find Ron. Though he tried to hide it, Harry was feeling incredibly nervous. Confessing to Ron would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

“I heard him mention something about the library,” Harry said. “Hermione was telling him to meet her there after class. C’mon.”

They went to the library, Draco waiting outside and Harry going in to see if Ron was there. He was sitting on a table at the back and looking bored. Hermione wasn’t there yet.

“Ron,” Harry said quietly. “We’ve got to talk.”

He looked startled, and then he scowled. “No, I’ve got nothing to say.”

“I’ve got to explain some things to you, it’s important. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, but I never meant to hurt your sister. Come with me, we can’t talk in here.”

He still looked sullen, but Ron hopped off the table and followed Harry out of the library. When he saw Draco there, however, he froze.

“What’s he doing here?”

Harry licked his lips nervously, glancing from Draco’s lazy smirk and Ron’s pinched face. “Ron…”

Ron looked at him. “What?”

Trying desperately to think of something to say, Harry shot Draco a pleading look. Rolling his eyes a little, Draco drawled, “Look, Weasley, it’s like this —”

“What are you doing here?” Ron snapped.

“I asked him to come,” Harry blurted.

His eyes narrowed and Ron glanced back at him. “Why? Harry… why? You hate him.”

“I don’t.”

There was a tense silence as Ron glanced from Draco to Harry and back again. “Is that what this is about? You’ve got a new best friend? Malfoy?”

Harry was feeling desperate again. “No, Ron, he’s not my best friend! You’re my best friend!”

“Then what are you trying to say?” Ron shouted, losing his temper.

Harry was shaking and fighting panic. Forgetting about Weasley for the moment, Draco reached over and took his hand. “Calm down, Harry,” he said quietly, teasingly. “You’re forgetting how to breathe again.”

“Don’t touch him,” Ron said shakily. “Don’t fucking touch him. Harry, don’t let him touch you.”

Ron was staring at their joined hands with disgust and something almost like terror in his eyes. Harry’s hand tightened instinctively around Draco’s and he glared at Ron. “I like it when he touches me, Ron, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“You hurt my sister, played with her, made her cry, as a cover for… for… It’s wrong, it’s wrong, how could you? Harry, how could you let him touch you?” He sounded lost and weak, and Harry lost his temper.

“What, it surprises you that I’d rather be with Malfoy than your little sister? That I’d rather he kissed me than she did? Honestly, Ron! Being with her was painful, I never wanted her, you just kept pushing her at me, and every time I tried to get away, you blamed me for hurting her! If I led her on, it was only because you wouldn’t let me get away. If anyone hurt her, it was you, with your incessant claims that I was meant to be with her! I’m not, I never was. I am where I belong. With Draco.”

There was a stunned, painful silence, and Harry suddenly realized that Ron wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He was staring at something just over Harry’s shoulder and, with a sick feeling of dread, Harry turned. Hermione was standing there, one hand tightly wrapped around Ginny’s upper arm, the only thing keeping the red haired girl from turning and running as fast as she could. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and stunned, shining with tears.

“Ginny,” Harry said, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean —”

Hermione’s lower lip was trembling. “Harry…” she chided, very gently. A low sound, like an animal in pain, escaped Ginny’s lips, and she wrenched away. Harry would have thought she’d run, but she didn’t. She was staring at him with dark, bruised eyes.

“Harry,” she said, in a lost little voice. “I was coming to tell Ron that… that it wasn’t your fault. That if you were in love with someone else, it was alright. I… I didn’t mean…” She trailed off, glancing at Draco who, for the first time was looking at her with something other than a cold sneer. He looked almost compassionate. “I’m sorry.”

She walked away, her entire body stiff as if she were made of glass and afraid she would break. Harry shot Ron a panicked glance, but Ron didn’t seem to be over his shock yet, and Hermione said quietly, “Go after her, Harry.”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve got to make Ron understand.”

“I’ll explain it to him,” she said, smiling gently.

“But how do you know?”

“How dense do you think I am? Go after her.”

With one last glance at Draco, Harry let go of his hand and took off after Ginny. Hermione ignored him, took Ron by the arm, and led him away. Seconds later, Draco was standing alone outside the library. He rolled his eyes, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed. “That could have gone better, I’ll admit that,” he said out loud, wishing that he felt more confident that Harry would eventually be back.

***

He had no idea where Ginny went when she was upset, so if Harry had any chance of talking with her, he knew he had to catch up to her before she got too far away or he’d never find her.

He ran as fast as he could, desperate to find her and explain. Finally catching up to her just outside of Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, he grabbed her by the arm. She yelped, startled, and spun around to face him, furious.

“Harry, let me go,” she said stubbornly, tugging at her arm.

Harry was panting, trying to catch his breath. “No, I’ve got to talk to you, you’ve got to let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was? Honestly, Harry!”

He was vaguely surprised and impressed. Ginny was proving that she had a backbone for the first time. “No, that’s what you’ve got to understand. I never meant you to hear that.”

She rolled her eyes and spat, “Oh, so you only wanted Malfoy and Ron how you’d never wanted me? How you hated me?”

“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly.

She laughed spitefully. “Oh, no, you don’t. What is it you said? Being near me was painful?”

“Ginny…I didn’t mean it. I was just so angry at him.”

She finally succeeded in wrenching her arm from his grip. “You know what, Harry? I really liked you. Back in first year, I would have done anything for you. You were so blind, but that was alright, because at least that, I understood. This, this whole year, you’ve been acting so strangely towards me, and you know what? If Harry-Potter-Boy-Who-Lived is that unstable, I decided weeks ago that I wanted nothing to do with it! The night of the Halloween Ball. That’s when I decided. But you kept acting like you might want me and pushing me away and I was so confused, but I didn’t want you… I didn’t.”

He wondered if she was lying but couldn’t quite tell. “Honestly, Ginny, we were friends, weren’t we? Before all of this happened this year?”

“Friends? You were so obsessed with your little group of Ron and Hermione that you didn’t know I existed, Harry! How is that friendship? And now look what you’ve done, destroyed all that as well, and for what? Some perverted relationship with Malfoy?”

He flinched. “It isn’t like that, it’s not. Listen to me.”

“Then defend yourself, Harry. Prove that hurting me and making me cry and hurting Ron and breaking up your precious little group of friends was worth it.”

He started to get a little angry himself. “I don’t see you crying, Ginny.”

“You never did,” she said softly, shaking her head.

It was silent for a moment or two, because Harry didn’t know what to say. Finally, he sighed. “Those things I said to Ron today, they weren’t true. I was just so angry, I wasn’t thinking right. We were friends, Ginny, before all of this happened, and I never meant to hurt you. Just as I never meant for any of this with Draco to happen. But it did, and I can’t change it, and I can’t take any of it back.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she asked quietly, “You’d take it back? Everything with Malfoy? If it meant that you had never hurt me and that you and Ron were alright again, would you take it back?”

Harry took a slow step back, his eyes wide and dark. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Well then, figure it out before you try explaining it to me again,” she snapped, walking away. Harry didn’t bother going after her, and he didn’t notice when, as soon as she turned the corner, she fell to the ground and started to cry, much the way he had expected in the beginning.

Harry turned slowly and walked away, feeling bruised all over and very tired.

***

Hours had gone by, and Draco had wandered around the castle, vaguely amused and embittered all at once at the knowledge that he, a Malfoy and a Slytherin and all else combined, was wandering the castle moping and waiting for The-Boy-Who-Lived to remember he existed and come back for him. Finally, as the sun set, he made his way back to his common room, annoyed at Harry for not coming to find him and disgusted at himself for waiting, and for his paranoid imaginings of all the nasty things Harry could have gotten up to with the Weasley girl by now. Jealousy, especially as irrational as it was in this case, was not something he was used to feeling.

He sat by the long windows that looked out towards the lake. On the windowsill with his legs pulled up and his arms looped around them; he was still sitting that way when Pansy entered the common room, glanced around almost nervously, and approached him.

“Draco.”

He glanced at her, startled. Then he smiled, though it was forced and weak. “Oh. Pansy. Done shagging Weasley for the night?”

She rolled her eyes and perched nervously on the nearest chair. “Don’t be crude, Draco.”

He laughed. “Crude, me? Never.” He turned so his legs were hanging over the ledge of the window and studied her for a moment. Abruptly, he said, “What do you want?”

“To talk. I heard something strange about you and wanted to know if it was true.”

“You know I don’t put much stock in rumors.”

“Ron told me.”

Draco stiffened. “Ah. And what did Weasley tell you?”

She glanced around nervously and said reluctantly, “That you had been… that you and… you…”

He rolled his eyes. “Shagged Harry Potter?”

Flinching a little at his dry tone, she shrugged. “Yeah… Did you? I didn’t believe him when he told me, but he was so adamant that I just had to ask. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Like Draco Malfoy would ever willing touch someone like Harry Potter —”

He cut her off by hopping off the windowsill and walking away. Startled, Pansy stared after him for a long moment before hurrying to follow him. She stopped him just before he went up the stairs to his dormitory by grabbing his arm. He froze, and said in a tight voice, without turning, “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me.”

Pansy snatched her hand back as if it had been burned. “Draco,” she said softly. “Talk to me. What did I say?”

He turned quickly and snarled, “What is it you want to hear? All the nasty details? If you thought I was being crude before, Pansy, you wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

“D-details?” she squeaked.

He didn’t care that there were other people in the common room who might overhear. It didn’t matter anyway, because when he started to shout, the small group of first years, the only other occupants of the room, exchanged a few startled glances and left hurriedly.

“Yes, details,” he spat, and she stepped back, startled. He stalked her like some sort of wild cat, until she was backed against the wall. His voice rose with every word. “Details about how it happened, how I ended up fucking Harry-Potter-Wonder-Boy like an animal, and every sound he made, and every sound I made, and how many times and where and when and how…” Finally, his voice fell to a silken whisper. “And how much I liked it. How it was to be inside him. Those details. Isn’t that what you came here for?”

Her wide eyes held his for a long moment, and she shook her head slowly. “No,” she whispered. “I came because we’ve known each other our whole lives, and if you were hurting, I wanted to help you.”

“Help me?” he growled. “Oh, of course I need help. Because Draco Malfoy would never willingly touch someone like Harry Potter.”

“I didn’t know you had,” she said delicately, pushing at his chest lightly to get him to back off and let her move. He still had her pinned against the wall. “Honestly, Draco, I’m not afraid of you. Are you trying to scare me?”

“You certainly looked scared.”

“Startled, yes. It’s not everyday you find out the boy you’ve known forever and had a crush on as a little girl is…well…shagging his worst enemy…and a… umm… another guy.” She shrugged, and slipped away from him, studying him from a safer distance. Finally, she asked, “Why?” Her voice was laden with curiosity.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he said finally, with a wry and self-deprecating smile. He went back to the windowsill, sitting on it and staring out at the lake again, thoughtfully. The sun had gone down now and silver moonlight was the only light in the common room as no one had yet lit the fire in the hearth. It cast Draco in silver shadows and, Pansy decided almost ruefully, almost made it look like he was carved from marble.

“Wouldn’t I?” she asked quietly, pulling herself up onto the sill beside him. “Understand, I mean. Maybe not all of it. But some. Ron wasn’t exactly the best person for me to fall for, you know.”

Draco smiled. “Mmm, I know. Weasley isn’t the best person for anyone to fall for.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. “Be nice.”

“I’m always nice,” he said angelically.

“Mmm, yeah, sure.”

There was silence for a while, and Draco rested his head on his folded arms, lost in thought. It was a clear, cloudless night, and he could easily see all the way down to the lake. He wondered fleetingly where Harry was and if he should go look for him, but forced the thoughts away. After all, if Draco Malfoy didn’t willingly touch someone like Harry Potter, then he certainly didn’t spend hours waiting for him and then go in search of him when he neglected to come back. There was just so far he could lower himself in this bloody situation without permanently damaging his pride.

“Draco?” Pansy asked, after a while had passed. “Can I ask you something?”

He glanced at her and shrugged. “I don’t care. What?”

“Did it mean anything? You and him, I mean.”

Draco considered for a long moment and then said abruptly, “Everything. It was everything.” He didn’t know if he expected her to scoff or laugh, or maybe even understand. After all, her relationship with Ron had to be something like his with Harry. Something that never should have happened, but now that it had, he couldn’t see any other way things could have turned out.

“Well… Ron was pretty upset, when I talked to him. Because they’d had a huge fight, from what I understand. And if Ron was any indication, then I’ve got to say, Harry’s got to be a mess right now.”

“So?”

“So what are you doing here with me?”

He looked away, shoulders slumping, and laughed scornfully. “He didn’t come back for me,” he said after a long pause.

“So?”

Draco scowled. “So? I may not hate the git any longer, but I’m still a Malfoy, for god’s sake! I don’t go following people like a lovesick puppy.”

She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Draco, even if you did go after him, you’d hardly be a lovesick puppy. More like a lovesick dragon, and there’s still some dignity in that. If it means that much to you, and I know you well enough to see that it does, even if I don’t understand how it happened, then go after him. I won’t tell anyone, and he’ll most likely appreciate it. If he doesn’t, he’s a fool.”

“Are you trying to advise me?” Draco snickered.

She shoved him off the windowsill. “Yeah, and maybe someday you’ll get over yourself enough to thank me for it,” she said, laughing.

Draco, looking disgruntled at having been pushed, straightened his clothing and said scathingly, “Yeah, and maybe someday you’ll remember that I told you not to touch me.”

She grinned. “Maybe. But probably not.”

Smiling reluctantly, Draco rolled his eyes. He moved to take his seat on the windowsill again, but Pansy stopped him with a glare. “Draco,” she scolded. “What’s more damaging to your pride? Moping around in here and being all ‘oh poor me, the object of my affections had a huge fight with his best friend and forgot to come back for me’ or going after him yourself? I didn’t think Malfoys were the type to give up when they want something. At least, not this easily.”

“Fine!” Draco snapped. “I’ll go, alright?”

She smiled brightly. “Good.”

He glared at her once more before letting himself out of the common room, and she was still beaming at him.

***

“It’s not like I had a choice,” Harry said, and Hedwig just watched him patiently. It was cold, with the tower window open, but he didn’t notice. The chill served to keep his growing headache at bay, and he was grateful for that.

“It’s not like I betrayed them all on purpose,” he whispered, feeding her an owl treat. She had found him up in the tower and delivered a letter from Sirius that he hadn’t yet bothered to look at. “It wasn’t like I had a choice,” he repeated.

“Potter.”

He jumped and spun around. Draco was standing in the tower, his eyes narrowed. He looked very indignant. “Draco,” Harry said with a shaking smile. “Hi. I didn’t know you were there.”

“You never came back.” He sounded sullen.

“Ginny and I fought and I… needed to think.

Draco rolled his eyes and frowned. “You never came back. I don’t wait for people, Harry. I was…”

“What?”

“Well, imagining all manner of foul things you could be up to with Weasley’s sister, actually.”

Harry looked shocked. “Jealous? I made Draco Malfoy jealous?”

Draco scoffed. “Don’t get used to the idea, I assure you that it won’t happen again.”

Harry smiled. “Good. Cos you’ve got nothing to be jealous of. We fought. Ginny and I, I mean.”

“About me?”

He shrugged. “More about me, really.”

Draco was feeling rather insecure and he hated the feeling. He scowled fiercely. “You said that you didn’t have a choice. When I was standing in the doorway. Like… like you didn’t want this. I gave you plenty of opportunities to deny it, Potter. Plenty of opportunities to run like a child.”

“You said so yourself that I was never a child. Neither of us were.”

“Being a child and having a childhood are completely different things, but you’re changing the subject. You said that you’d never been given a choice.” He tossed his head back and snorted. “I’m giving you one now.”

Harry watched him nervously. There was a tense energy wound tightly around Draco and it worried him. “Draco, are you alright?”

“Alright?” Draco snapped, voice like a whip. “I waited for you, Harry! Like a bloody fool, I waited for hours. I don’t wait for people, and if I ever did lower myself to wait, I certainly would expect whomever it was I was waiting for to show up.”

“Draco —”

But Draco wasn’t finished yet. “What sort of trust is that? The first time something happens with those bloody friends of yours, you go prancing off and forget I exist? I won’t have it, no one forgets I exist, not even —”

Harry was shaking his head in a bemused sort of way and he walked towards Draco, smiling indulgently. Before Draco could say another word, Harry interrupted with, “You stupid, stupid Malfoy.” He kissed him then, holding his face captive with his hands, and when he finally let him go, all of Draco’s righteous anger had drained away, letting Harry see the true insecurities beneath.

“Not even someone who didn’t have a choice in being with me,” Draco finished quietly.

Harry’s eyes widened a fraction, and his hands were still on Draco’s face. “Stupid Malfoy,” he said again, very softly. “You think if I had a choice, I would have chosen anything other than this?”

For a wild moment, Draco just stared at him, speechless and trying to decide how he was supposed to react to that. “Then make up your bloody mind!” he shouted finally, losing all control. “If you feel that way, than stop going on as if you’re just a victim of fate! If you don’t want this, then bugger off! If you do, then stop with the unnecessary moping! Honestly, Harry, you did have a choice and you chose this and now it’s like you’re feeling guilty and trying to say you had no choice in the matter, as if that’ll make it alright. Well I won’t have it. Make up your sodding mind, right now. Do you want this? Do you want me? And remember, Potter. I’m a Malfoy. Most people don’t get second chances, and I honestly think this must be your fourth or fifth.”

Harry, feeling rather stung at being attacked by all of his friends and now Draco as well, said weakly, “Draco, don’t.”

“Fine,” Draco snapped. “You don’t want to choose? Then I’ll choose for you.”

“Don’t… don’t go,” Harry pleaded, even as he winced at how weak he sounded.

“Go?” Draco repeated, his tone low and silky even as he stepped closer. “You seem to have forgotten, Potter. I’m a Malfoy. If you didn’t want me, it wouldn’t matter, because we don’t generally ask permission for what we want, we just take it. And I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t want you. You don’t want to choose, then I’ll choose for you.” He had backed Harry up against the window now, startling Hedwig and sending her flying out of the tower with an indignant shriek.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked nervously.

Draco smiled slightly. “Making up your mind for you.”

Harry swallowed thickly. “Well, hurry up,” he said weakly. “You’re driving me mad, being this close and all.”

Smirking triumphantly, Draco tilted Harry’s head up and slammed his lips down, driving all thoughts about anything other than how much he wanted this from Harry’s mind.

Draco forced Harry’s mouth open and kissed him so hard that it nearly hurt. His fingers dug into Harry’s arms, his tongue flicking into his mouth, lips crushing Harry’s, grinding them against his teeth. It was punishment for making Draco doubt Harry and in turn doubt himself, and Harry decided rather breathlessly that if this were the punishment for making Draco jealous, he should definitely try to do it again, many times in the future.

And then, so suddenly that Harry let out a low moan of frustration, Draco stepped back and let go.

“Draco, what?” Harry asked incoherently, taking a steadying breath.

“You’re mine, Potter.”

Harry frowned. “You own me?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

Draco smiled slowly, devilishly, and Harry watched his lips hungrily. “Since I decided you were worth owning.”

“Like a horse.” Harry still hadn’t quite gotten a hold of himself, after Draco’s devastating kiss.

Nodding with a regal air, Draco said, “Quite right, Potter.”

Harry felt vaguely like he should be arguing, but somehow staring at Draco’s lips just seemed like the better thing to do. However, halfheartedly, he said, “Does that mean I own you too?”

Snorting, Draco drawled, “Malfoys aren’t owned by anyone, Potter.”

“And Potters are?”

“Apparently.”

Before Harry, who was beginning to feel quite indignant, could argue, Draco kissed him again, and Harry let his indignation slip away. After all, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t bring this up later when there weren’t so many distractions. Besides, it wasn’t as if Draco had claimed him, was it? Left some mark on him…

“…Oh.” Harry shivered, as Draco started ripping his cloths off. “You’re ravishing me, aren’t you?” He laughed and then began returning the favour. He paused as Draco’s shirt hit the floor. “But you don’t own me, Draco Malfoy. You’re wrong.”

Draco just smiled and kissed him again, having decided that more distraction was in order. And distract he did. Moments later, on the floor and on top of Harry, who seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, Draco began teasing Harry almost beyond control. He flicked his tongue along the outer shell of Harry’s ear. “Say it. C’mon, you know it’s true.”

“No,” Harry said shakily, answering the challenge he heard in Draco’s voice with a lopsided and rather desperate smile. “It’s not true. I am not yours.”

Draco smiled grimly. After all, he always welcomed a challenge.

Moments later, he’d driven Harry to the edge over and over again only to back off with a small smirk, and Harry was nearly wild with desperation. He was pouting like a sullen child, his body bathed in sweat, his hands trembling.

Draco smiled very slowly, and bit Harry’s bottom lip playfully. “You’re mine, Harry,” he said coaxingly, his hand trailing down Harry’s sweaty chest, over his flat stomach, and lower.

Harry let his eyes close slowly, his eyelashes brushing Draco’s lips as the other boy hovered over him. His breath hissing out between his teeth, Harry breathed, “I’m yours.”

Draco smiled triumphantly as he kissed Harry very gently, even as the other boy arched against him and moaned. Draco pushed inside him and Harry knew that it was true.

He was lost. Body, heart, and soul. Draco may as well have branded him and claimed him with a thousand flags, because there was no going back. Harry belonged to him, and no matter what happened in the future, Draco was inside of him, all over him, and Harry didn’t care one bit. If he believed in fate, he would have said that everything in his life had led up to this.

As it was, he was too busy trying to catch his breath to consider it.

A/N: The line 'I have no friends, only servants...' was borrowed from the movie The Swan Princess. Hoped you liked the chapter!