Under the New Moon

Prologue

In Medias Res

"Love is a powerful thing. It can make us do all sorts of ridiculous things. But love, however powerful, will always come second to fear."

~

July 7, 1998

The two figures crept quietly into the room, letting their wands emit just the faintest glow.

The first figure shone its wand over the two boys sleeping on couches opposite each other. The wand light travelled over the first boy, illuminating his blond hair. The figure then moved it's wand over the second boy, whose hair seemed to absorb the light and studied him closely.

"You'd never expect him to look so young," the first figure said softly.

"What do you mean?" asked the second figure.

The first figure shrugged. "I don't know. He just looks too innocent to have defeated the Dark Lord."

The second figure hesitated. "I ... I think he's tougher than he looks, but it's been a few months since Voldemort was defeated, after all, so I think he's had some time to recover." The second figure bent down to remove his glasses.

"What are you doing?" the first figure asked. "It will look like Draco did it."

The second figure smirked. "Is that a bad thing?"

"It's only their first date." The first figure took a sip of one of the drinks on the table. "It's not even alcoholic. No," it decided, "leave them on."

The second figure seemed to reluctantly agree and backed away, taking a piece of parchment out of its pocket. "Shall we get on with it then?"

The first figure strode over to the window and peered out. "The full moon is rising," it said, then paused. "Are you sure this will work?"

"Absolutely," the second figure said without a trace of doubt. "Besides, you said it yourself: full moons are always the most magical."

"Are you mocking me?"

The second figure sighed. "Not anymore. Let's just do this before they wake up and find us here."

"How would that look?" the first figure laughed.

"Harry and Malfoy are sleeping in the same room right now," the second figure said, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps not as weird as we think it would."

The first figure shrugged. "Ok, should we both say the spell?"

"Yes, and make sure the end of your wand is always touching mine." The two joined wands. "Ready?"

The first figure nodded then whispered: "One, two, three."

As they chanted softly, a soft blue light appeared at the tips of their wands. The two then separated their wands and each ran the tip of their wand over one of the boys' heads. The glow was extinguished and the room became dark once again.

The spell completed, the two figures backed up and surveyed the boys nervously.

"Let's go," the second figure whispered.

The first figure gently grabbed the other's arm. "They look good together, don't they?"

"They'll be good for each other," the second tried to say confidently, but with doubt wavering its voice.

The first paused, looking back at the two sleeping boys. "Yes ... let's just hope nothing disrupts this precarious ... union."

"For all our sakes."

The two figures blended back into the darkness. Down the street, celebrations continued on. Up above, the moon had fully risen, her all-seeing eye to the world below. Inside the flat, the two boys slept on, each naively believing that life would finally share with them its secrets, and help them from the misery they have known for so long.

~

Chapter One

Precarious

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts

~

September 27, 1998

"How they ever let beasts teach at Hogwarts is beyond me."

Sirius tensed from behind his desk at the front of the room as Draco Malfoy's cold drawl reached his ears.

"Father always said this school was going to the dogs, but I doubt he ever suspected that it was literally."

"Leave him alone, Malfoy."

Sirius smiled grimly. Harry could always be counted on to speak out against the little twit, but Sirius felt that he should make an attempt to be a good Godfather and try to avert another fight between the two of them like the disastrous one last week. He stood up.

"That's fine, Harry, I've got this under control," he said calmly. He thought Lupin would have been impressed at his collected demeanour.

Harry shrugged and sat down, but he gave what could only be described as a suspicious look to Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, if you disrupt my class one more time, it will be twenty points from Slytherin," he continued, having one of those rare moments when he felt like a responsible adult in control of a situation. How odd.

Malfoy sneered at him. "Perhaps if your class involved anything more than watching an under qualified professor show us how to aim spells at the wrong people, I would be more inclined to pay attention."

"If you hadn't deflected his spell it wouldn't have taken out Neville," an aggravated Harry pointed out, rising to his feet again. "You could have just shielded."

"Please sit down, Harry," Sirius said loudly.

"Like I was supposed to let that biased, wannabe of a resistance fighter curse me in a school," Malfoy said to Harry. He then turned to address the class. "This is a place of learning, not violence, and am I supposed to sit here while that vindictive yet dimwitted, flea-infested-"

"Draco! Enough!" Harry said loudly, but sounding tired. "I know what you're doing."

"Potter! Malfoy! Forty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin!" Sirius shouted, making them both glare at him and sit back down.

Sirius had been warned by both Minerva and Lupin that he was playing favourites, and while he hated to take points from Gryffindor, he felt this was the best way to avoid another disappointed look from Moony. Why did he always disappoint those closest to him? He returned to the front of the room to finish correcting papers until the bell rang.

After all the students had cleared out, Sirius shuffled the papers and put them into his bag, preparing to leave. It was then that he noticed that all the students did not, in fact, leave the classroom. Draco Malfoy was still sitting in his chair and staring at him coldly.

"Can I help you Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, still in control. Oh Lupin would have been so proud.

Draco rose from the chair and walked slowly and deliberately over to him, stopping inches away.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" he asked again, this time louder.

"Oh, I doubt it," he sneered, and walked out of the room.

Sirius stared after him, still feeling his warm breath on his face.

***

Remus Lupin was walking towards his next Transfiguration class. When the school reopened, he was offered the job immediately. No one dared to speak openly against him after he was publicly renowned for playing an important role in the war. At first he wondered why he wasn't asked to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts again, but he was told that someone had agreed to teach that post a few weeks earlier.

To Lupin's astonishment, McGonagall had asked Sirius Black to teach the class.

Not that Lupin ever thought his friend couldn't do it, it's just that, well ... Padfoot was never one for patience. He tended to be fairly reckless and act without thinking - not the best qualities for a professor. However, he knew his stuff and was very skilled in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Lupin had his NEWTS in Transfiguration and had always been in the library with James and Sirius when they were researching Animagi. It wasn't his favourite subject, but he loved being at Hogwarts and he got to spend a lot of time with Sirius.

Lupin sighed and rounded a corner in the Charms hallway when he was hit suddenly and had the wind knocked out of him.

"Remus?" Sirius's husky voice asked him.

Lupin blinked and saw Sirius on the ground beside him. "Oh god, Padfoot, don't you ever watch where you're going?"

Sirius grinned. "Surely a wolf could have smelled one of its canine friends this close to a full moon."

Lupin glanced around instinctively to see if anyone had heard. Everyone knew, of course, but he was still self-conscious. He looked back at Sirius who was grinning like a maniac and practically wagging his tail in human form.

Two words, Lupin thought: Animal. Magnetism.

Sirius extended his hand and pulled Lupin up with the firm grip that Lupin had come to know so well over the years.

"So how's class going?" Lupin inquired as the two of them made their way to the teachers' quarters.

"I'm loving it, Remus, I tell you," he said, his face lighting up, his dark, grey eyes glowing. "The students are great. Especially Harry. I can't tell you how happy I am to be with him so often like this."

"I'm sure," Lupin agreed as they got to their separate doors across from each other's. "I'm just sorry I can't talk to him as often as I'd like in Transfiguration. Seeing him now at eighteen... it's just like..."

The name hung in the air between them, and they locked eyes, both knowing what the other was thinking.

James.

Lupin took a step closer to Sirius, their eyes still on each other. He watched his friend's eyes, not sure what they showed. Loss? Sadness? Regret? Yearning? He took another step closer and leaned forward. That's it, just a little closer, he told himself.

Did Sirius just move towards him, or was he imagining something that wasn't there?

He leaned closer still and before he could stop himself, pulled Sirius into a tight embrace. Dammit! Why Remus?

He pulled away slightly, hoping to establish the eye contact they shared a moment before, but just as he did so, a cold, drawling voice came from the end of the corridor.

"Are you two finished yet, or should I give you another ... oh, would five minutes be enough? I imagine so."

Lupin shot a pained look at the ceiling and then glanced at the sneering Malfoy kid. He pulled away from Sirius. "Evening Draco," he said as lightly as he could.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Sirius snapped.

Lupin shot him a look of warning. He had already told Sirius off four times for being too short with students.

"I wanted to talk with you Professor Black," he said casually. "Alone, preferably. I'd rather not share my study concerns with all the vermin in the school."

Sirius growled, but Lupin spoke up before he could lunge for Malfoy's jugular. "That's fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Sirius. Goodnight."

Lupin shut his door behind him and leaned against it. It sometimes seemed to him that he and Sirius were set against the stars; he could never summon the courage to tell Sirius about his feelings, and he's sent to prison for murder; Sirius is found innocent after all those years, but has to go into hiding; they have the chance to live together, but he is killed; he's brought back from the other world, but the first problem comes between them again.

But he just couldn't tell him. He's loved him for too long to risk their friendship. Life wouldn't be worth living if he lost Sirius.

Not that he ever had him in the first place.

Lupin rested his head in his hands, an odd feeling of loss playing with his heart once again.

***

"What do you want Malfoy?" Sirius asked impatiently, opening the door to his chambers. His head was still spinning from Remus in the corridor. For a minute there, he could have sworn Remus was going to kiss him. If only Malfoy hasn't interrupted them. No, of course he wasn't going to kiss him. They were both straight, after all.

"I wanted to discuss my progress in your class," Draco said, stopping at the door and watching Sirius shuffle with some papers on the grand mahogany desk at the front of the room.

"If you're trying to argue your grade up, it won't work," Sirius said, glancing at Draco's slim build standing in the door frame.

Draco frowned. "But my arguments were so well planned," he whined. "I even had secondary sources!"

Sirius stared at him. "Who, Snape?"

Draco sulked. "Professor Flitwick if you must know," he informed him. "You said my wand work wasn't up to par for the Patronus, but he insists it is flawless."

"Dammit Malfoy!" Sirius shouted suddenly. "You came up here, for this?! You got 9 out of 10 on that assignment, and if you think I'm going to bump it up then that rumoured insanity really must run in your family!"

Draco blinked. "We are family, Black," he said coldly.

Sirius strode over to the door in two long steps. "I meant on your other side, and we are not family," he snarled and tried to shut the door.

Draco's hand was apparently faster than he gave him credit for because the door only made it half way. He was staring at Sirius with an appraising look. "Oh good," Draco said cheerily, pushing past Sirius and stepping into the room. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Sirius gaped at him. "What?!" he demanded.

Draco walked over to the window and made a show of staring out of it before answering. "You said we weren't family," he said softly, still staring out the window.

Sirius was stunned. What was this kid playing at? He was angry and frustrated and toying with the idea of heading across the hall and knocking on Lupin's door and ... and Draco Malfoy was standing in his room spouting nonsense at him. He had half a mind to call Harry up here and let the two of them go at it like they usually did.

"Get out of my room!" Sirius shouted at him, feeling he was going to snap. Remus would be so proud.

"I won't lie to you professor," Draco said, turning to him and acting as if he hadn't heard Sirius shouting, "I'm willing to go as far as it takes to get this grade."

"Did you not hear me?" he shouted again, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the door. "Get out, Malfoy."

Draco continued to ignore him and walked slowly towards him. "The question is, Professor," he said softly with delicate emphasis on the last word, "how far do I have to go for this grade?"

Sirius stopped. Huh? He stared at Draco. "Huh?" he said aloud. Oh, good Sirius, nice word use there.

Draco smiled softly and pointed his own wand at the door which shut with an innocent 'click'. "I'll take that as a 'very' far..."

***

Harry Potter was in a foul mood. He was walking down the hallway at an incredible speed, not aware of the first years he had just knocked over.

Why did Draco have to pick on Sirius? He was so infuriatingly Slytherin. Why did he have to pick on Sirius? His Godfather!

"Harry, mate!" someone called after him down the corridor. "Harry, wait up!"

Why, Draco?

"Harry!"

Harry stopped. "Hey Ron," he offered lightly.

Ron stared at him. "Quidditch practice in 20 minutes," he said. "We're talking about the game against Slytherin next month."

"Oh right..." He shook his head. "Sure Ron, I'll be there shortly."

"Right. See you there."

Harry watched Ron jog off back down the corridor and sighed heavily, casting a pained look to the heavens.

Why did Draco have to pick Sirius?

***

Draco didn't like the way Sirius's eyes had narrowed. Perhaps the oaf had figured out what he was hinting at, but that didn't seem right; to Draco, it seemed that if he was being suggestive, he should have people eating out of his hand, and not growling menacingly.

"Mr. Malfoy-" Sirius began.

"Oh please," he said flirtatiously, "call me Draco."

"You will leave this room," Sirius continued in the same carefully measured voice, "and you will never come back. Should you wish to discuss your grades further, you will visit me in my office, and not in these quarters, is that understood?"

Draco was shocked. The whole beautiful seduction seemed to be melting away from him. "But Seery-" he tried in a last attempt to get Sirius back where he wanted him.

"OUT!" Sirius bellowed, loosing it completely. "OUT! GET OUT!"

"But-"

"OUT!" he cried, striding over to the door and yanking it open. He had a mad glint in his eyes that told Draco he was beyond reasoning at the moment.

"Ok, ok, keep your hair on," Draco muttered and strode past him into the hall. "But if you ever-"

The door was slammed most unceremoniously in his face.

Draco glared at the door, patting down his hair where the wind from the slam had lifted it up. "Fine," he said, wrinkling his nose in a dignified manner at the door, "just don't expect me to come running the next time you feel the urge to take wanton liberties with my body."

"Draco, who are you talking to?"

He looked up to see Pansy Parkinson staring at him, wearing simple black robes, large golden hoops on her ears and a green and gold sparkling scarf around her neck.

"The door, Pansy. I was talking to the door," he said flatly, after deciding she should not see this moment as one he was embarrassed of. His dignity would not be compromised; he was perfectly fine with talking to a door as long as he was not being rejected by the person behind it.

She looked at him sadly. "Draco, I know you've had a hard year, but don't you think it's time to get some help?"

His eyes widened and he spluttered indignantly. "I - I never-" So much for the dignity, he thought.

She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "I think you should talk to someone," she said soothingly. "Many teachers went through a lot in the last year and I'm sure any one of them would understand your situation. Why not Professor Snape?"

Draco quickly closed his mouth. He opened it again when he wasn't going to splutter again - splutter! - and coherent sound was going to come out. "Thank you for your concern, Pansy, he said casually, "but I am just fine. I am a well-adjusted person who is perfectly capable of fitting in with the wizarding society after a year of alternating between living in a cupboard and camping in the wilderness. As you can see here, I was not talking to a door because I am more comfortable with inanimate objects than people, but was merely completing a thought I had started before Professor Black kicked me out of his office."

Draco closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. "No, you're right. I have suffered a lot. I think I am going to go lie down now before I make friends with a house elf."

Pansy nodded sympathetically. "Did you want me to walk you back to the common room, Draco?"

"No, I'll be ok, I just need some time on my own to think. Besides," he added, "you look like you're on your way somewhere."

"Yes," she said, still looking at him with concern. "I was going to meet Parvati and Lavender on top of the Astronomy Tower tonight. Mars is in Scorpio this week, and we're hoping to make some notes. I only hope the moon isn't too bright. We're not exactly looking in that direction, but it could make things difficult."

Draco nodded, hoping his eyes hadn't glazed over and he was still looking respectfully subdued. "Right," he said, sounding mildly interested. "Well have fun tonight, then. I'll see you for breakfast tomorrow."

She nodded. "Get some rest Draco, and think about talking with Professor Snape."

He smiled blankly and waved her off, turning to head towards the dungeons. "Talk to a teacher," he said to himself. "She must be mad."

"Who must be mad, dear?" asked a portrait he passed.

Draco sneered at the elderly woman in the painting, angry that he had let two people overhear him talking to no one in the same evening.

He then ducked behind a curtain and jogged up a flight of stairs, away from the dungeons. Two fourth years passed him on the stairs and he cackled loudly, pleased when they looked shocked and walked away muttering something about delusions.

Draco always felt that if you were to make a mistake, you should do it properly.

***

Later that night, Harry lay in bed unable to sleep. He stared at the moonlit sky through the crack in his curtains without really seeing it. He wondered where Draco was now...

"Harry!" a foreign voice whispered through the seventh year boys' room.

Harry bolted upright. He knew that voice. "Draco?" he asked.

"Of course it's me, you pillock, and stop talking so loud before The Weasel wakes up and decides he wants me as a midnight snack."

Harry jumped out of bed, pulling on a robe and picking up his wand. Draco was standing by the window, his hair glowing unnaturally bright under the waxing moon. Harry fought the urge to run his fingers through that hair.

"You know Ron isn't into that sort of thing, Draco," Harry said lightly, motioning to the door.

Draco followed him. "There is something very wrong with that boy. Sometimes I think there's such a thing as being too straight."

Harry snorted as they made their way down the spiral staircase. "What, because he doesn't find you sexually alluring? Surely it's happened before, Draco."

Draco made a face. "You doubt my sexual allure, Potter? Never, in all my life has someone not fallen head over heels for me the instant they glimpsed my divine body, my cool devastating eyes, and my platinum locks that make Veela wilt with inadequacy. Weasley must be blind - nay! - dead! - not to have noticed this god that walks among wizards!"

How could this Drama Queen stand himself, Harry wondered with a roll of his eyes.

"Draco," he said, trying to layer his voice with impatience, "did you practice that?"

"Maybe," Draco replied haughtily, his nose thrust into the air.

Harry rolled his eyes again. "Where is it you wanted me to go tonight?" he asked, hoping to get Draco's mind off himself.

It worked. Draco's face glowed with a devilish excitement. "I thought we'd sneak into Ravenclaw tower tonight. Daphne's sister is marrying Anthony Goldstein's brother and she's not pleased about it. She keeps trying to get Goldstein to try to break them up, but he won't, and now she's threatening him at every chance she gets. Pansy informed me he needs top marks in Herbology if he wants to be a Healer and Daphne keeps sabotaging his notes in that class. I propose we get these notes and undo Daphne's writing once we find it with a revealing spell. It's actually really clever what she's done, according to Pansy; you must admit the girl has style."

"Sorry, Daphne?" Harry asked.

"Daphne Greengrass?" Draco said impatiently. "The one with the long, silky, but not always immaculate, chestnut hair?" When Harry continued to look bewildered, Draco sighed. "Honestly, Potter, sometimes it seems like you hardly pay attention to the Slytherins at all."

"What, so I can keep up with your biweekly quiz on why Slytherins are the best?" he shot back wondering why Slytherins always insisted on alienating themselves from other houses by continually pointing out their differences. "What do you know about Gryffindors?"

"I know that half your dorm is boxers, half briefs," he replied, counting off on his fingers, "though I'm not sure of your preference. I think you might swing both ways, if you will. Parvati and Lavender have a secret collection of photos of various, naked Ravenclaw boys, due to a hole in the out of order girls' toilet on the second floor, right near the Ravenclaws' tower. Longbottom wishes he was more like the great Harry Potter and thus has hired the short kid with the camera to follow you around and discover the secret of your greatness."

"Gah - what?!"

He moved on, ignoring Harry's splutter of surprise as they reached the Gryffindor common room. "Weasley actually knows of the rumours that have him and his sister doing the dirty dance of love on top of the Astronomy Tower, but in a surprising display of cool-headedness, he chooses to ignore them-"

"Because they're false-"

"And Granger is wildly in love with me," he concluded, smirking something dreadful.

"Odd, that," came a voice to their right. "You'd think she'd be trying to talk to you or even acknowledging your general existence when you're not in her area of the castle if she was so in love with you."

Harry and Draco turned to look for the voice that spoke by the fire. Hermione Granger lowered the book that had been obscuring her from the rest of the room and gave them a disapproving stare.

Draco didn't miss a beat. "That's only a ploy she uses. Her intense feelings for me only frighten her because she's been dating Weasley for so long, and thus, is unfamiliar with the desire required to love a Malfoy. Besides, her avoidance of me is only an exaggerated act to hide her emotions, proving, that she is indeed, wildly in love with me."

Hermione ignored his smirk and turned to Harry. "He's pretty, Harry, but also blind. Hitting doesn't mean loving in all cases." She turned back to Draco. "Some fourteen year olds hit because they generally don't like the person," she said with a smirk, clearly referring to the incident in their third year.

"And some hit for a strong desire for any sort of physical contact."

"Don't you have somewhere to be tonight, Malfoy?" she asked coolly. "I mean, somewhere that isn't in another house's common room."

Draco raised a disinterested eyebrow at her and folded his arms. "Harry and I did have other plans tonight, if you must know - I know you like being aware of my actions, and all - and we really should be going."

Hermione glared at him one last time and sat down, disappearing under her book again.

Harry and Draco crossed the room to the portrait hole, and opened it. Harry waited behind as Draco exited to have a last word with Hermione.

"I hope we didn't bother you," he called back.

Without glancing up she replied: "Not really, Harry. I'm trying to edit Ron's transfiguration homework so Malfoy was a welcomed distraction." She paused. "Don't tell anyone I ever said that."

"I won't," Harry said, laughing.

"I hope you two aren't getting into any trouble tonight," she said sternly, looking at the portrait hole out of which Draco disappeared.

"Believe it or not," Harry said, bemused, "we're breaking into another house's dormitories with the noblest intentions."

Hermione frowned.

"We're helping someone," Harry elaborated.

An odd expression came over Hermione's face. "Oh," she said thoughtfully. "Well good for you, Harry."

"Erm ... thanks?" he said, puzzled by he dreamy expression.

"Yes, really," she said, snapping out of her trance. "You know, Harry, whatever people say about Malfoy ... I think you're a good influence on him."

Harry laughed. "Is that what they're saying?"

Hermione's eyes darkened and was suddenly very serious.

"No, Harry, it's not," she said slowly. "They're saying he's a Death Eater and that he should rot in Azkaban because of Dumbledore."

Harry frowned. He knew some people resented the Malfoys after the war, but he didn't think anything that serious was going around. "How do you know this?" he asked.

"It's not hard to keep up with gossip when everyone lives in the same castle," she told him. "But Harry, you do know this is serious, right? I mean, too much animosity could cause horrible things to happen in the school, and Malfoy would probably get the worst of it."

"Wouldn't Snape get the worst of it?" Harry asked, frowning. "Draco never killed anyone."

Hermione shook her head. "The evidence at Snape's trial was more than enough to get him the sympathy of the wizarding world. Everyone knows Dumbledore made Snape make the Unbreakable Vow to keep his status as a double agent."

"How do you know all this?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"I pay attention, Harry," Hermione replied in exasperation. "And I don't want Hogwarts to be destroyed by something stupid after everything you've done to save the world already. This is my home. I won't stand for another battle in Hogwarts."

"Nothing's going to happen, Hermione," Harry said, trying to reassure her. He didn't think there was any danger of her fears materializing. Hogwarts was safe now.

She bit her lip. "I'm just warning you. A lot of students lost loved ones in the war and if they can't take it out on the Death Eaters in Azkaban ... I've never liked the Slytherins, but I don't want to see them hurt."

"Why are you telling me this?" Harry asked. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing, Harry," Hermione said softly. "Just be careful with Malfoy. Don't do anything ... apocalyptic."

Harry laughed. "I'm not trying to start any inter-house battles."

Hermione smiled faintly. "Can you hear yourself?" she asked lightly. "Can you even imagine yourself saying that in our fifth year?"

"No, I guess not."

"Things have changed," Hermione said wisely.

Harry gave her an appraising look. "Everything has changed," he said with finality.

Hermione nodded. "The war did a lot."

Harry smiled. "Who would have thought a few years ago that I'd be spending my spare time with Draco Malfoy?" he asked vaguely. "But I like him now. He's not always the easiest person to get along with, mind."

"You're one to talk."

In an impulsive, childish gesture, Harry stuck out his tongue at her.

"Mature," she commented.

"I know," he said confidently. "My maturity astounds you."

"It's astounding all right," Hermione returned sarcastically.

"I should get going," he said after sticking out his tongue again.

"Oh right, don't let me keep you," she said, waving him off. "Have fun."

"Goodnight Hermione," he called.

"Goodnight."

Harry climbed out of the Gryffindor common room and found Draco waiting for him just outside, examining a window's red curtains with distaste. Harry thought he heard a mutter of "Gryffindors ... so predictable..." but he couldn't be sure.

"Will you and Hermione never get along?" Harry asked uselessly.

"Perhaps once she admits her feelings for me," he said, after taking time to seriously consider the question.

"I think the 'Mudblood' comments over the years have officially provided an impassable barrier for her ever having feelings for you," he said truthfully.

Draco looked hurt. "She called me pretty," he said with a pout once they got to the bottom of a staircase.

Harry stopped walking and sighed. "You are, Draco," he told him, placing a hand on the side of Draco's neck with a smile. "You are..."

He leaned in and kissed the other boy lightly on the lips. It was a fleeting kiss, but Harry pulled back with an unmistakably sweet taste in his mouth. He licked his lips and smiled mischievously at Draco.

Draco allowed himself to smile back. "I know, Harry," he whispered, winking as he leaned back towards him, pulling Harry closer. "I know..."