Moonshine

He was drunk again. Ah yes, he was drunk. Being drunk meant being oblivious and being absolutely carefree. He liked that feeling and wished to be drunk all the time, and he was, well almost all the time. He didn't get drunk easily but just the buzz of the alcohol blurring his mind made him feel better and helped him to ignore the things he worried about most. Such as...the one who made everything more complicated and more painful. The proud boy pulled his robes tighter around his body and then stalked out of the bar clutching a bottle and ready to make his way back to Hogwarts. He did not need this kind of grief and especially not for some boy who didn't seem to have any particular sexuality to speak of. Except... but he would not remember that time. That was not just the effects of alcohol, oh alcohol, that cruel deceptive drink that made you so happy but loosened your tongue so that all knew your deepest secrets. Secrets. Oh secrets. Everyone had secrets. He had the most of them all but no one would ever know because they are secrets and no one is meant to know another's secrets unless that person allowed them to and in his case he had let them slip thanks to the effects of his precious liquor. He was not aware that he was mumbling to himself and he did not care that he was a complete mess. He did not notice the stares as he reached the Slytherin common room to find nor did he know that all were whispering strange rumors about him, none of which were true but none of which were false either. They always talked about him but none dared to tell them what they felt about him in his face, all except them. They were always telling him what they thought of him and it comforted him to know that at least some people weren't hiding behind a wall of bullshit. He went straight to his bed and fell asleep not welcoming at all the prospect of a potent hangover the next morning, and just as he slipped off to sleep the face of the only person he had ever let get under his skin appeared before his eyes paving way for bad dreams and even worse awakenings.

Harry tossed, he turned, he sweat, he moaned but still he did not go to sleep. He tried counting sheep and even tried putting a sleeping spell on himself but nothing worked. Something was bothering him and he refused to think about what it could be afraid of what he would find. He remembered it well enough. It was one of his most vivid memories though he had been notably drunk at the time.

It was a cold night and Hogwarts was almost dancing as its students danced. It was the Yule Ball and Harry had not a date to call his own and he was quite successful at hiding that fact that he did indeed care. He had hoped to go with Hermoine but his hopes had been shattered when Ron asker her first. Of course this would happen, Ron was always quicker with ladies then him and he did know about Harry's passionate crush on Hermoine though it was blatantly obvious. Ron was thick headed like that and he had always known that Hermoine was madly in love with Ron but neither of them had made a move to let each other know straight out. Harry pretended he didn't care, they didn't need to know that he hurt inside that he could have died right there seeing them being happy together and then seeing himself as the wizard whisking the lovely lady off to the dance floor. He didn't even look in to see what they were doing; he promptly slipped off to the pub and to drink his sorrows away. He wasn't going to risk seeing Draco Malfoy at the ball and to face more humiliation. Sometimes he wondered if someone was out to get him. Well technically someone was out to get him but that was a whole different matter.

The Three Broomsticks had been bustling with activity as usual and he promptly moved to sit down and pour his pain into alcohol. That was the way all men handled themselves in such situations after all Harry had noted bitterly. He was not a man; he was just a boy drinking underage. He ordered up mug after mug of potent liquor until his mind was buzzing and the sharp edges of reality were blurred. Suddenly he heard a familiar voice order a drink in a familiar pushy way. He had turned slowly and cautiously to find himself face to face with Draco Malfoy dressed in a large black cloak and looking very drunk. On his table were perhaps 20 large mugs, all empty. Harry had been horrified. Suddenly Draco saw the gaping boy and flashed a messy but always charming smile. Harry did not smile back but moved to catch him as he nearly fell out of chair. He was so slim, so light, Harry had never noticed before. He looked at Draco Malfoy and all contempt for him was momentarily put away. He did not understand what he was feeling and to his dismay the emotions were coming from a place he did not care to explore.

"Well if it isn't 'airy Pot." He paused then added, "ter."

"You're drunk Malfoy." Of course so was he.

Draco squinted as though he couldn't see him clearly, then attempted to take a swig of his drink only go miss and get some on Harry's face. He promptly stood and was suddenly aware of the ass he was making of himself. He stood but realized he could not. Harry was looking at him strange and it was a look never given to him before. Harry did not know it but Draco was miserable and no one knew why. The misery could only be caused by the one person who refused to care, the one person he did not want to care for. No, he would not let it out now. He could no let him know. Harry was giving concerned looks now and he did not know why. Maybe it was the way he was suddenly so vulnerable, a thing he had never been in front of anyone before. Draco suddenly wrapped his arm tightly around Harry's neck and leaned forward. In fear Harry drew back and the drunkard fell to the floor. He pulled himself up and walked out, not before slamming into a few tables and a door on his way. Harry followed him trying to be more careful but not having much luck. He moved to grab his arm but decided against it. Instead and stood in front of him halting his advancement.

"Get out of my way," he said. There was still a familiar menace in it but now it was dampened by the slurred tone of his voice.

Harry took the bottle from him but he snatched it back.

"Leave me alone!" he cried and stalked past him. Harry followed wondering why he even cared but the misplaced compassion seemed somehow fitting now that he was intoxicated.

"You need to get back to Hogwarts," he said.

"You're not my bloody mum Potter, I can handle myself."

Harry watched as he tripped and fell on his face. He moved to help him but he was up again before he could make a move. He looked visibly angrier. He suddenly turned on Harry swinging punches and crying obscenities more colorful than that of a drunken sailor. Harry was able to keep him down but he wouldn't be able to much longer. Draco was strong and a match for him. Suddenly a fist was free and it cracked him straight across the jaw. They both stood stunned a few seconds before the other turned and threw up. He wiped his mouth and looked at Harry. A bruise was beginning to form on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Harry was dumbfounded. He must really be drunk to apologize.

"You're sorry?!" he asked.

"No," he said quickly. Then he tried to take a swig of the bottle of ale in his hand which had somehow survived the brawl.

"Stop!" Harry cried and knocked it out of his hand. Draco looked at him stunned and punched him hard. Harry punched him in his daze and they were fighting. There was pelting of fists and crazed drunken yells. In the mists of this Harry realized that he was on top of Draco holding down his fists and he wasn't at all protesting. He was looking hat him with the most bazaar expression.

"Why do you care Potter," he said in an accusing tone.

"You could die," Harry stated wondering why that was suddenly unappealing.

"Doesn't that appeal to you?"

He didn't seem to be drunk anymore. Harry was silent not sure what to say.

"I would never want you to really die," he said finally.

Yes I have, he thought.

"Yes you have," Draco said. He seemed suddenly very small and very fragile.

Before he could stop himself, Harry opened his mouth to speak. "What made you drink like that Draco?" What made him use his first name like that? He was treating his arch enemy was a person.

"You wouldn't understand Potter," he said.

"Try me."

Then before hey knew what was happening the two of them found themselves talking to each other in a way that they had never talked before, like friends. It was strange and it was rare and it probably would never happen again. Later both would blame the event on the effects of alcohol but neither would dub it a bad experience. Draco said things to Harry that he had never told anyone before, his insecurities as a leader and of his future and his relationship with his father. Still, even as he was drunker then at all possible, he did not tell Harry his confusions of him. He told Harry about his anger, his despair, his disappointment and revealed to him all the things that made him so openly human and vulnerable in the process except for the one thing that had made it all the most painful, the issue with the great Harry Potter. The other listened and saw the enemy in a new light. He had been wrong this whole time. Draco Malfoy was just like him, hiding behind a mask to make others think differently of them. Draco used anger and malice; Harry used shy charm and innocence.

"So why are you drunk?" he asked.

Harry was silent. He looked over at Draco but he was looking forward at the empty sky, moonless and dim. He was lovely, features that could have been chiseled from marble. What was this strange emotion inside of him? Could it be...?

"Heart break." Harry said simply but there was more and he knew it. He just did not know what it was.

"Me too," Draco said suddenly.

The two stared at each other and they were dangerously close. Harry could smell something on Draco that made his heart skip. Something that had been hidden for a long time decided to arise at that moment and he had his hand on the nape of the other's neck with no protest at all. Draco leaned forward and to Harry's surprise kissed him so softly that it made him feel warm all over. He could not pull away for it was far too wonderful. The other could not stop. He felt as though he was kissing this boy to keep himself alive. He had wanted to kiss him for so long. Finally they released each other from the tight clinch and then silently walked back to Hogwarts. They did not talk on the way back. They only looked forward knowing that no one should know about the situation.

Finally Harry got up and decided to take a walk. It was safer these days now that the Dark Lord had been defeated. All was sat straight and graduation was coming soon. The weather was warm and welcoming. Harry strolled down the corridor and heard a choked wale. Harry ran towards it and found himself before the boy's bathroom. There was a locking spell on the door but inside someone was having a fit. Harry had forgotten his wand so resolved to breaking it down manually. It did not open. He listened closely for a sign of who was inside.

"You bloody fool! Don't know anything!!! I can't even drink decently because of you!!"

Draco Malfoy? What was this? Who was he talking to?

"I hate you! Why can't you get out of my mind?! Why won't you leave me alone? I can't love you! I CAN'T!!"

Harry felt chills as the sorrow in his voice turned to desperate pleading.

"Why don't you love me?"

Who was he thinking of?

Draco finally collapsed to the floor exhausted. He curled up into a ball and tried to keep from crying. The Malfoys did not cry no matter what. He felt the pain as the face of The Boy Who Lived appeared in his mind. He hadn't always been like this. First it was intense rivalry, then respect, then painful love. But he had kept it hidden behind a mask of spite. Why did he do this? Perhaps it was easier then rejection. He did not know that every night Harry Potter thought of him as well and was always very concerned about him despite his best efforts to do just the opposite.

The weeks past slowly and finally the day of graduation came around. Draco Malfoy had disappeared and no one ever seemed to know where he was. His roommates complained about hearing incoherent mumbles from the bed beside them and the smell of alcohol in master Malfoy's robes. Harry himself was not getting enough sleep constantly worrying about Draco as though they were friends. They were not friends. They never had been and yet they had talked so easily. He had liked talking to him.

Draco stood at the tower and wondered if he should tell. He had to sooner or later. It would drive him insane if he did not. He never got any sleep and he was a miss. Finally he planned to pull Potter aside and have a chat with him. He was afraid. No one else knew. He was particularly nasty that day and finally that night Draco charmed his way into the Gryffindor tower and into Harry's room. There slept the angel in his glory and to his horror he was awake.

"Draco?!"

"Shut up," he hissed not intending it to sound nasty. "Someone could wake up."

Harry got up and put on his robes.

"What is it?"

"I need to talk to you."

Harry blinked. What was this?

"Please?" Malfoy added.

This was unbearable. He seemed sober.

They walked up to the observation tower and didn't do much observing. No one spoke for a good five minutes.

"Harry," Draco began.

He called me Harry.

"Yeah?"

Harry was afraid. Was he going to tell him something bad? Oh god. He suddenly realized he was not looking at Draco. He decided to do so to find in the place of the proud aristocrat was a frightened boy just like him.

"I..."

Suddenly in a strange wave of something he could not place the name of Draco suddenly looked so lovely to him. He hair was unkempt and wild, silver under the glow of the full moon. His gray eyes darted avoiding his stare. Harry moved closer to him causing him to breathe in sharply. God he smelled good. He wanted to get a good look at Draco's features which were amazingly fine and utterly perfect. They were so close and they could feel each other's breath. Harry knew what he was going to say. He suddenly felt like being the bully. He knew that Draco was vulnerable right now and that he was putting himself on the line. Harry could do this as well. Since that night when both of them were drunk during their fifth year, Harry had felt something in him change towards Draco Malfoy. Making him angry had always been so important to him and he had always cared so much about what he said. It never occurred to him that this obsession had any meanings on a far more serious level other then intense hate. He was willing to try and find out what it was exactly that made him want this boy though he was not supposed to. He wanted to know, and he wanted to touch him so badly. Harry placed his arm around Draco's waist and pulled him to him. He was being so unlike himself, being so brash. Then they kissed and it was bliss. Draco leaned forward and Harry pulled him down. They let each other fall in love and it was the most beautiful thing.

Under the silver moon, two gleaming bodies could be seen entangled into one another and it was only the show of lovers.