Definitions

1. Blur

The first time it happens, Draco is the one who starts it.

It is late at night and the halls of Hogwarts are empty, for the most part. Harry is trudging back from detention when someone grabs his wrist from behind. He spins around and finds himself pinned against the wall by none other than Draco Malfoy. He tenses for a fight, but it soon becomes apparent that a fight is not what Malfoy is looking for, because before Harry can take a breath, Malfoy's mouth is pressing against his. Harry honestly has no idea what to think and then it occurs to him that maybe his mind has shut down because suddenly he can't seem to think at all. He can only feel.

The wall behind him is cold and hard and the jagged stones press uncomfortably against his spine. At first his hands reach for the body in front of him, but he hesitates because Malfoy's not touching him, not yet, and so instead they come to rest against the gritty wall. The pressure of Malfoy's mouth on his forces his head back against the stones and it hurts until he realizes that he should be pushing back, at least meeting Malfoy halfway. Malfoy interprets this as participation and begins to nip and lick at Harry's lips, trying to entice an invitation from his mouth.

Harry can't think of a reason not to let him in and so he opens his mouth and he can hardly believe it when Malfoy's tongue slips, slips, slides against his. Can hardly believe it when Malfoy's leg nudges its way between his. Hardly believes it when his own hands come up to tangle in Malfoy's hair which is stained silver by the moonlight.

And then Malfoy's hands are on him, scrabbling frantically at his robes, pushing them aside. They tug his shirt from his trousers and slide underneath. Harry knows a challenge when he sees one and allows his hands to mimic Malfoy's. He feels Malfoy's mouth drift from his and he can't help the moan that escapes him. But instead of pulling away, Malfoy presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, the underside of his jaw, and slides lower still to lick his throat and suck on his collarbone. His hands dip below the waist of Harry's trousers, just barely brushing against him and Harry moans again and tries to press even closer to Malfoy.

'I--Malfoy--what--why?' Harry hisses out between gasps. When Malfoy doesn't answer, doesn't stop, Harry reaches up to tug at his hair. 'Malfoy. What are we doing?'

'I don't know,' he snarls, his breath ghosting across Harry's skin. His fingers delve ever so slightly deeper and Harry moans.

'Then why are we doing this?'

'Because there's a fine line between love and hate,' his breath hitches as Harry mirrors his caresses, 'and I thought we might be able to blur it.'

And then there is no more talking, but lots of gasping and swallowed moans and the sound of frantic mouths meeting in the dark.

When it is all over, they each clean themselves up and straighten their clothes and then they go their separate ways.

2. Hazy

The second time it happens, Harry is the one who starts it.

Draco is on his way to the showers after an early morning Quidditch practice when he suddenly finds himself being dragged behind the stands by Harry Potter. Potter doesn't say anything, just shoves Draco to the ground and drops to his knees, hovering over him. Draco blinks once and then Potter's mouth descends over his. The kiss lacks finesse and Draco can taste Potter's desperation on his tongue as it searches Draco's mouth. The air smells fresh and clean and Draco can feel the dew on the grass soaking into the back of his clothes. He is sweaty from practice, but Potter either isn't bothered by it or ignores it altogether and when Draco shivers, Potter lowers his body to meet his, warming his front and making him shiver for a completely different reason.

When Potter's mouth leaves his and trails down Draco's body, shoving clothing out of his way as he goes, Draco watches the dark, messy-haired head and wonders if this is really happening. The intensity of their last encounter hasn't faded, but it has taken on a dream-like quality, its edges have become fuzzy. Potter glances up once, after tugging Draco's trousers and pants out of the way, and his face is hidden in shadows cast by the sheen of hazy morning light behind him. And then Potter's mouth is surrounding him, just where he wants it to be, just where he needs it to be, and suddenly everything becomes hazy. There is some fumbling and it is awkward and there is just a hint of teeth, but Draco doesn't care and when he comes in Potter's mouth, he is gasping Potter's name, his fingers threaded through Potter's hair.

Potter crawls back up his body and catches his mouth in a frantic kiss. Draco's hands reach down for Potter, sliding his trousers down his hips and closing firmly around him. Draco swallows the sighs and moans that his clever fingers wring from Potter's mouth and when Potter comes, it is with Draco's name on his lips and Draco's tongue in his mouth and he watches with sleepy eyes as Draco licks his fingers clean.

'Things are still the same,' Draco whispers afterwards. 'I still don't like you.'

'I still believe you. I still don't like you either.'

Then there is one more kiss, but no more talking as they clean up and go their separate ways.

3. Clear

By the time it happens in the library, they have lost track of numbers and of who seeks out whom. They are wound tightly around one another and wrapped up in Harry's invisibility cloak. They aren't worried about being discovered because the only books in their aisle are multiple copies of Hogwarts: A History which Hermione has memorized and which nobody else could possibly be interested in.

Their kisses are slow and leisurely, each exploring the other's mouth as though they have all the time in the world. They don't, of course, but sometimes they like to pretend that they do. Harry slides his hands under Draco's robes and Draco moans softly. It's a sound Harry loves to hear, has become accustomed to hearing, loves to coax from him. In response, Draco rubs his leg against Harry's hardness, eliciting a gasp. He is learning things about Harry, about how to touch him and where, how to make Harry shudder and press himself closer to Draco. Sometimes moments like this remind Draco that he needs to learn quickly because any day now, this could all be over. In frustration, Draco bites Harry's lip and he pulls back abruptly.

'What was that for?' Harry asks.

'Just a reminder.'

'Fuck you,' he spits.

Draco grins. 'Fuck me, fuck you, doesn't really matter, does it?'

With a growl, Harry dives back in and soon they manage to lose themselves in the moment, in the present, manage to distract themselves from everything but each other.

And this time, when Draco comes, he whispers, 'I hate you.'

And then, moments later, Harry joins him. 'I still hate you, too,' he breathes.

And everything stays the same. Only this time, there is talking.

'What are we doing?' Harry whispers. His breath teases at the fine hairs that frame Draco's face and there is a long pause before Draco manages to answer.

'I don't know.'

'Then why are we doing this?'

Draco gently pushes Harry off of him and for a while they just sit side by side, surrounded by a heavy silence and the dusty smell of old books. He thinks, wondering what will happen when everything is over, when school is over, when the war is over, and he finally decides to go with honesty for once.

'I don't know.'

'Do you think we'll ever not hate each other?'

A smirk tips Draco's mouth. 'No. Some things never change.'

'Some things do.'

'But not that. Not us.'

And after that, neither one feels much like talking. They tidy each other up and there is a brief tangling of fingers before they finally go back to their dorms. Neither one knows what this is and neither one is willing to give it a name, but they both know that Draco is right, that there's not a big difference between love and hate.

But 'I hate you' is easier to deal with and 'I hate you' is easier to say before they go their separate ways.