Coveting Thy Enemy

Chapter 16: Propositions

Draco had managed to simmer down after his fight with Harry. His nightly rounds, a duty as Head Boy, had given him quite a bit of time to think. By the time he had adjourned to his room that night, he felt he had a lot of things put into perspective. It seemed to him the problem was his and Harry's relationship just wasn't normal. Perhaps that was the wrong word, it definitely wasn't normal by society's standards, but by normal he meant that while it felt right, it simply wasn't what a relationship should be. He had been observing several of Hogwarts' most notable couples that evening, breaking up a few snog sessions in the astronomy tower as well, and he had noted the kisses goodnight, the handholding, the gentle whispers in each other's ears. That's what he wanted.

Because of the taboo quality of their relationship, he and Harry could do none of that. All right, they were gay. That would be frowned upon at first, but accepted later. What was taboo were the following facts: He was a Slytherin and Harry was a Gryffindor. He was the son of a Death Eater, and Harry was The Boy Who Lived. He was Draco Malfoy, and he was in love with Harry Potter. Because of these things, he couldn't walk Harry to his dorm every night, nor could they hold hands on the way to class, or kiss in the corridors. This all seemed to intensify the desire Draco had for Harry. It was hard to carry on a relationship at a distance, and it was doubly hard to keep one's self in check when he did have some time alone with his desire. However, as difficult as the relationship was, he wouldn't give it up for the world.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he heard a knock at the door. Running his hands through his hair, he hastily tried to fix any damage he had done when rifling through it with his fingers during his deep thinking. When he felt presentable, he opened the door. Standing before him was a very scantily clad Pansy Parkinson. He ran his eyes down the length of Pansy. She was wearing a very short, red silk negligee that barely hid the fact that that was all she was wearing, other than a very smug grin.

"What do you want, Parkinson? You know better than to walk around the dorm like that," he said, giving her a blank stare.

Pansy only smiled and ran her hand down Draco's arm, which was propping him up in a nonchalant position in the doorframe. She traced his arm from his fingertips, up to the curve of his elbow to his shoulder. She then began sliding her way up to his neck before he raised himself to a rigid stature and pushed her exploring hand away. "Don't, Parkinson," was all he said.

"What's the matter, Draco? You don't want to play?" she asked, giving him what she seemed to think was her sexiest pout.

"Not really," he said. Pansy's well-practiced theatrics had had absolutely no effect on him.

"Are you sure, Malfoy? We haven't played in a very long time," she cooed, "In fact, since last year, if I'm not mistaken."

He put on his most evil Malfoy glare. "Pansy, I'm not interested, so please go away," he said in an icy tone.

She was getting angry. He could tell because the nostrils of her pug nose were all but flaring, and a blush was beginning to stain her cheeks and throat. Any other time, he would have gladly shagged Pansy. There's had always been a no-strings-attached relationship, and he never had to feel guilty about kicking her out of bed afterward. Obviously she wasn't used to rejection however, and for that, Draco knew he would have to pay sooner or later.

"You know, you really are a loser, Malfoy. Everything everyone says about you is true. You're too cowardly to accept the Dark Mark, and I'm ashamed by the fact that you're the head of Slytherin!" she spat, and turned on her heel and walked away. Draco didn't look after her. He shut the door and sat down on his bed. He knew Pansy would get over it. In fact, he wouldn't doubt it that Pansy was probably soon be knocking on the door of one of the other seventh year boys. He dropped his elbows to his knees and placed his forehead in his palms. He was actually being . . . monogamous. So unlike a Malfoy. And, it was all because of Harry Potter. The only person he wanted was Harry, and he couldn't have him.

He was just beginning to feel sorry for himself again when there was another knock at the door. "Shit, not again, " he said and flung the door open. "I thought I told you I wasn't interested, Parkinson?" he said to thin air. Draco looked left and right, seeing no one. He was about to chalk it all up to a joke and shut the door when he felt something brush past him into his room. Turning around, he saw Harry's head emerge, then his shoulders, and then finally the rest of his body when he let his invisibility cloak drop to the floor. Draco looked uneasily over his shoulder into the corridor, and seeing no one, he shut the door.

"Nice Pyjamas," Harry said, taking in the emerald silk pyjama bottoms Draco was wearing. If he had to describe Draco at the moment, he would have to say Draco was breathtaking. The pyjama pants clung to every curve of his calves and thighs. He raised his eyes upward, taking in the very bare chest of Draco Malfoy. Draco was built like a Greek statue, all alabaster and hardness. He had a narrow waist and broad shoulders. The muscles underneath his pale skin while not monstrous were well shaped and defined.

"Who did you think I was when I knocked?"

Draco shrugged. "Pansy Parkinson. What can I say, she's hot after my body."

"I don't blame her," said Harry, his eyes sweeping Draco's chest. The green in his eyes was not from pigment alone, other things were attributing, like overwhelming passion and the jealousy of a female Slytherin who had been trying to plant her flag on Malfoy for several years.

"Now that you're done ogling me, do you want to tell me what you're doing here?" Draco asked and sat back down on his bed. He couldn't help but to feel a little smug at the appreciation and jealousy he had seen in Harry's gaze.

Harry sat down beside him, making an effort to keep some distance between them. "I just wanted to talk about what happened earlier . . . I . . ."

"Christ Harry, I'm sorry," said Draco interrupting him. "I was way out of line. I really didn't mean to embarrass you."

Harry had been expecting anything but an apology, so it took him a while to reply. "Draco, I really didn't mean what I said. Sometimes I try to say things and they come out all wrong, especially with you. I never meant to make you feel that way, I really didn't. The truth is, I've been really frustrated myself."

Draco's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes."

"You know, Harry. I don't have as much restraint as you do. I'm a master at disguising my feelings, but my disguise is usually something equally as strong as what I'm trying to hide."

"I know that by now, Draco," Harry said softly. "You react with anger. I've known that since first year. It's just that when you're angry with me now, I don't always remember that."

Draco nodded at Harry's psychoanalysis of him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I should have let you explain yourself instead of storming away like a child. It's just that sometimes it seems like we're so close, but so far away. Do you know what I mean?"

"You mean because we have to hide what we feel?"

"Yes."

"I know, that's been bothering me too. That's why I came here to proposition you about something," Harry said, putting step one of his plan into action.

"What is it?" asked Draco, interested.

"Can you use your Head Boy status to get us passes to Hogsmeade Saturday night?"

Draco shrugged, "Sure, that wouldn't be a problem."

Harry rubbed his hands together. "Good, then it's a date."

"Uh, Harry. I don't know if you recall, but you're quite of interest to people in Hogsmeade, or don't you remember all of the Daily Prophet articles about you fourth year? I don't think we can go on any sort of date without winding up in the paper for everyone to see."

"Oh, Draco, Draco," said Harry, bemusedly shaking his head. "I asked you to get passes to Hogsmeade, but that doesn't mean we're going there."

Draco was confused. "Well, then where are we going?"

Harry shrugged. "We'll go to Hogsmeade and then go into Muggle London. We can have dinner there. Nobody knows either of us there, and they won't care what we do," he said with a grin.

Draco smiled then. He was going to spend an evening with Harry. There would be no need to hide their feelings in London. They could do all of the things couples do, even if for only one night. "All right, Harry, it's a date," he said.

Harry kissed him then, a gentle kiss full of promise. Then he stood up and wrapped his invisibility cloak about himself. "I'd better go. I don't want anyone to notice I'm not in bed yet." Draco walked him to the door and kissed him goodnight, which was hard to do since he was invisible. Instead of kissing Harry's mouth, he ended up kissing his nose, which made the Gryffindor giggle. Draco grinned and opened the door. Then Harry was gone. He didn't see him go, but he could feel his absence, an immediate emptiness that made him feel as if a part of himself had just disappeared. He shut the door, crawled into bed, and went immediately to sleep.

Pansy Parkinson cast a confused glance at Draco's door. She could have sworn she heard talking coming from Draco's room. She had returned to see if Draco had changed his mind about her offer earlier when she had heard voices. Then, when she saw the door beginning to open, she flattened herself against the wall, waiting to see who Draco was entertaining. But, Draco had only opened the door, stared out wistfully down the corridor and then shut it again. Pansy wasn't stupid. There was something really weird going on with Malfoy. First, he had rejected her, and now he was talking to himself in his room? And, whom was he waiting for? Obviously he was waiting for somebody and he or she was late. Why else would he have looked out into the corridor like that? Something didn't add up, and she was definitely going to get down to the bottom of things.