Like a House on Fire

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"McGonagall caught Malfoy and Our Boy."

"What, really? What did she do?"

"Sent them to Dumbledore. Malfoy made up some cock-and-bull story about a play and Dumbledore almost made them write it."

"Oh."

"Where are you going?"

"Harry will need comforting."

"Hey! I told you the news! He's mine!"

"But he likes me more!"

"Cow!"

*******

They made it down to the Slytherin Dungeons as decorously as could be expected. The entrance opened at Draco's muttered 'absinthe' and they dived inside. Fortunately, at this time most of the students were having dinner in the Great Hall. They were able to commando roll their way to Draco's dorm room without being seen.

Draco pushed Harry onto his bed and pulled the green drapes closed. In his haste he didn't notice that they weren't closed properly, but Harry did.

In fact, through the gap, Harry could see Draco's belongings chest--lid open, contents strewn in disarray. On the top was lying something that looked rather like a camera.

Draco was fiddling with his waistband. It was oddly enjoyable and Harry found himself forgetting why he was supposed to resist this. It wasn't that Draco was particularly adept, more that his movements burned with earnest sincerity and Harry, who had never seen Draco like this, was intrigued by it.

Draco's tapered fingers brushed, icy, along Harry's side and he shivered.

He knew he was going to have to act quickly. He pushed aside Draco's hands and rolled out from under the blonde boy. He hurried over to the chest and hauled out the camera, grinning triumphantly.

"I've got what I came for, Malfoy! Now I'll just be leaving!"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Potter, that's a straightening wand."

Harry took a good look at it. "Fuck me, you're right." He returned the item to Draco's chest and started rummaging.

"Ahah!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's a ring box."

"Ahah!"

"Mobile Torture Studio"

"Ahah!"

"Sock."

"Dammit. Malfoy, where is the camera?"

"Here." Draco produced it.

Harry did a dive tackle roll and grabbed it out of Draco's hands, managing to score a few sickles out of Draco's pocket at the same time.

Draco's face, previously animated with desire, then bored, drained utterly of expression, leaving it a stony mask. The transition from human to statue was disturbing.

"Fine, if that's all you want, you've got it. Take it and go."

For some reason, Harry lingered, staring with grudging concern at the boy on the bed.

"You got what you want," Draco repeated, his volume rising slightly. "Take it and go!"

He looked a little lost, Harry thought distractedly. A spirit stuck in earthly form, a vision, white limbs tangled in white sheets, punctuated by the occasional glimpses of black trousers.

Harry considered returning Draco's sickles to him, but they jingled so nicely in his pocket.

Draco jumped up off the bed and ran over to shove at Harry, trying to push him out the door.

"Go!" he repeated again, sounding slightly hysterical.

He was crying, Harry realised. Not much, but a little bit. There was wetness gleaming at the corner of his eyes.

It was odd seeing Draco cry and knowing he had caused it. He enjoyed seeing Draco angry, or offended, but crying? That was serious.

Disturbed, he hurried out of the dorm, clutching the camera. The Slytherin Common Room was still blessedly empty and it was an easy trip back up to the Gryffindor dorms.

Harry stared at the canopy over his bed. The sickles were safely stashed. Oh, and the camera too, of course.

He shouldn't feel guilty, but he did. Worse, he felt regretful that he had stopped the interlude before it went any further.

So far, he had slept about twelve seconds in total. He had no idea what time it was, except that it was late.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the invisibility cloak. A nocturnal ramble sounded like an excellent idea. He would stay far away from the Slytherin dorms.

Whipping the cloak over his head, he left the dormitory. The Fat Lady, by now used to the Portrait Hole opening mysteriously, didn't even stir. Harry had taken a lot of nocturnal strolls this year.

He headed away from the Gryffindor Common Room, towards the Library.

When he reached the Library, he paused and then, without thought, turned left and headed down a long flight of stairs.

What if he hadn't grabbed the camera? What would have happened? Would he have had sex for the first time, with a boy he didn't even really like, in the Slytherin Dorms? Wouldn't that have been worse?

Of course it would have! said Harry's head, but unfortunately, other parts of Harry disagreed. His nose, for example, was adamantly in opposition.

Reaching the end of the staircase, he took a right and walked down a hallway with high vaulted stone ceilings.

Draco's behaviour was really bizarre. First he taunted and humiliated Harry, then he cajoled and tried to seduce him, then he became all wounded and defensive.

Harry was slightly shocked to realise that he wanted to know what to make of Draco's actions. He wanted to know whether these abrupt mood swings were normally part of Draco's character. He wanted to know why Draco had chosen this absurd situation rather than just approaching Harry normally.

All in all, Harry just wanted to know about Draco.

At the end of the corridor, he turned left, then right and found himself standing in front of the damp stone wall which marked the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.

He stared at it for a while. He could go in there and wake Draco up... he even knew the password.

"Absinthe," he said under his breath, testing the word.

Apparently this was enough, because the stone door concealed in the wall rolled open.

Well, the door was open and Harry figured he had nothing to lose at this point. His dignity was already lying in rags by the roadside begging for knuts.

He snuck through, paused to gain his bearings and then headed towards Draco's dorm room.

Harry took the invisibility cloak off. He carefully snuck over to Draco's bed and carefully pushed aside the drapes. Crabbe snored on, peaceful as a baby, thumb stuck in his mouth. Harry twitched and hastily shut the drapes. He could have sworn that was Draco's bed.

"Oi," came a soft voice from behind him, "Dipstick. Are you looking for me?"

Draco was curled up, almost in foetal position, facing Harry and glaring through a gap in the drapes.

Now that he thought about it's Harry remembered that as being Draco's bed. Oh, curse the Potter lack of directional sense.

Harry headed over and climbed carefully onto the bed, letting the drapes fall shut after him. Harry climbed on top of Draco, one leg on either side, and stared down at the blonde boy.

"Hi," he whispered.

Draco scowled. "Was the climbing-on-top-of thing really necessary?"

Harry said, "I just came down to apologise for before."

Draco scowled. "And you had to do this in the middle of the night because...?"

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said defensively.

"Oh."

"So yeah, I'm sorry about before."

"Why? You came down here for the camera, didn't you?"

Draco's eyes were cold, but Harry could tell he wasn't as immune to the situation as he pretended.

"Yeah, but... I... liked what we were doing too..." Harry said, his face burning.

Draco smiled. "Oh really? Well fuck you, Potter. Now go away, I want to sleep."

Harry hissed his annoyance. "Don't be stupid, Malfoy."

"Stupid? This, from Mr. I-can't-remember-where-Draco's-bed-is-despite-the-fact-that-I-was-there-les-than-three-hours-ago!'"

"Um, yeah."

Before Draco could reply, Harry leaned down. Balancing on his elbows, he pressed his body to Draco's and kissed him.

Draco's body softened and melded to Harry's after a few moments, and Draco's lips opened beneath his. The Slytherin's arms came up to encircle Harry's waist and press their bodies together.

Draco rolled Harry so that they were lying side by side, facing each other. Both boys were wearing loose pajama tops, and Harry's hands quickly traveled underneath Draco's caressing the smooth planes of his chest.

Draco's hands slipped into Harry's pants, tracing patterns on the curve of his buttocks.

"I've wanted to touch your arse all day," he whispered, his breath hot on Harry's face.

Harry sighed with pleasure and turned in Draco's arms so that his back was pressed to Draco's front and Draco's hands were caressing his hipbone. Harry leaned back, arching into Draco's touch.

Draco let his hand rest there while he pressed his cheek against Harry's neck, feeling calm and relaxed. Harry was pliant in his arms.

After a few moments, Draco realised Harry had gone to sleep. He smiled slightly.

It was probably a good thing. He didn't really want to indulge in any serious hanky-panky with Crabbe and Goyle sleeping in the same room.

It wasn't long before Draco was asleep too.

And then, the little silver figurine on the bed opened its eyes and chirped quietly, 'Twelve O'clock and all's well!'.