This World

Sectumsempra

Moonlight filtered in from the large ornate windows running up the walls of the high ceilinged room; casting the boy's face in shadows and starlight. His was a quiet beauty when he was asleep. Awake, he wore it with self-conscious abandon, constantly using it as a tool, using it as a weapon. It was loud and it always got him what he wanted.

Stepping closer to the bed, Harry couldn't help but be fascinated by the softness of this face in slumber. Dark lashes dusted pale skin and his lips seemed somehow more open, inviting. Harry had almost assumed they were twisted into a permanent smirk.

Harry stepped back in surprise as Draco opened his eyes and they focussed, narrow slits revealing steel blue.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I... um..." Harry stammered, caught completely unprepared by that direct and uncompromising glare. "How did you...?"

"I'm a Malfoy, Potter. And a Death Eaters son. No one can come anywhere near me without my knowledge..." His eyes narrowed further. "Especially not you." Blue irises burned into Harry's with an unnerving intensity and Harry swallowed. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I..." Chewing his lip, Harry decided it should be illegal for anyone to have such long, dark, luscious lashes. "I came to say sorry. I didn't know what that spell would do."

"Apology not accepted. Get out."

Harry gritted his teeth. It was no wonder that Draco found social intercourse a problem, with alive people at any rate. "Malfoy, we both know that there is no love lost between us but surely you can not think that I'd ever intentionally throw a curse like that. At anyone."

"Potter, I don't give a fuck whether you'd curse me or not. If I had my way you'd still be under Cruciatius going very quickly insane while I stood by and watched."

Harry sighed. "Be that as it may, I still owe you an apology. I'm sorry, Draco."

"Fuck you, Potter. Don't you dare call me by my name like one of your worthless, mudblood friends. My answer is the same as before. Get out. If you want my forgiveness then hurry up and get yourself killed and rid the world of your stupidity."

Harry barely even blinked. Very deliberately he sat down on the edge of Draco's bed. "You don't mean that, Draco."

"Oh, yes. I very much do," Draco said, his voice dropping to a growl. He sat up and pulled his body as far away from Harry's as possible.

"No, you don't, but I'm not going to argue the point."

"Whatever. Are you going to leave? Because I'm not above calling Madame Pomfrey and you can explain to her what - "

"No, don't," Harry responded quickly. "Look," he continued, running a hand through his messy hair. "I just want to talk. That's all. I've been realising that I've been wrong about a good many things and being wrong is not the best place to be when you're the so-called 'Chosen One'."

In the dim light, Harry couldn't quite read Draco's face but his voice was an unmistakable sneer. "This is all touching, really but I am yet to grasp why exactly I'm supposed to give a damn. Perhaps you've mistaken me for one of those bleeding heart types who loves to hear sob stories. Sorry, you've got the wrong house. Try Hufflepuff."

"Draco, don't," Harry said in a quiet voice.

"Don't what? Be honest?"

"Don't push me away."

Harry glanced at Draco, remembering dim light falling on a golden head and darkened ice-blue eyes rimmed with tears. "You surround yourself with people, Draco, so that it doesn't ever look like you're alone. But you never let any of them see the real you. You hide away under that veneer of insolence and only let loose in a dimly lit bathroom with nothing but the ghost of a dead girl to watch you weep."

"What would you know, Potter?" Draco snarled.

"I know, Draco, which is more than you can say for any of your supposed friends."

Sighing, Harry twisted a corner of the sheet in his hands. This was not going the way he had planned. Nothing did, it seemed, where Draco was concerned. "Draco, I know I don't deserve your trust. And, god knows I haven't earned your respect. But the truth is I'm probably one of the few people in this school that can understand what it's like to shoulder a burden."

"This'll be good," Draco scoffed. "Harry Potter, the Boy With a Burden." Draco turned his head away and Harry caught his breath. So beautiful, the image burned itself into Harry's mind. "Tell someone who cares."

"I am," Harry replied. "You hold your head high, Draco. You walk this school as if you own it and you bow to no one. I may dislike you but I can't deny that I admire you."

"Wonderful, my life's ambition: to be admired by the great and noble Harry Potter. I can die in peace now, knowing that my ultimate goal has been accomplished."

Harry smiled despite himself.

"What's so funny?" Draco snapped.

"Nothing," Harry replied. "It's just that all of my life I've believed that enemies were square shaped and box-able; that there were no shades of grey and no saving graces. But now I'm finding that enmity is getting difficult to define."

Draco snorted. "You're preaching to the converted, Potter."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "How so?"

Draco gave him a look that would have withered a mandrake. "The biggest enemies in my life are my parents." There was a beat and Draco dropped his eyes to the bed. "It tends to play hell with one's notions of black and white."

Harry nodded. "That's true."

Quieting, Draco paused and shot Harry an uneasy look beneath his lashes. "You shouldn't have come here tonight, Harry."

Harry blinked in surprise at the use of his first name. "Why not?"

"Because..." Draco opened his mouth to continue before thinking better of it. When he began to speak again Harry knew the answer was not the one he had originally intended to give. "It's just not safe, for you, to be wondering about the passages at night. And Harry, please believe me when I tell you that I am very much your enemy."

"It's difficult to believe that when you call me by my first name," Harry said in a soft voice.

Draco looked surprised and touched his fingers to his lips. "I... I didn't mean to."

"Don't worry, it's midnight, in the Hospital Wing. The walls will keep your secret."

"That's not what worries me," Draco said, fixing Harry with enigmatic eyes.

"What is worrying you?"

Draco frowned at him then looked away. "Nothing, Potter. You should go."

"I'm not leaving," Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms.

"Potter."

"I'm alone for 365 nights of the year. For one night, just this one, I want to have company."

Draco raised his brows. "Mine?"

"Yes, yours."

"I'm not sure what surprises me more, the fact the you want me or the fact that I'm still sitting here talking to you." The sarcasm flavouring Draco's voice was suddenly a lot stronger. "What's your reasoning? Your friends can't understand the real you so you thought you'd try your enemy instead?"

"It's working isn't it?" Harry said defensively.

"... Point," Draco admitted reluctantly. "Who's next on your list? Voldemort?"

Harry laughed. "I can just imagine owling the invitation: Hi Voldy, it's Harry. That's right Harry Potter. Care to have some coffee and cake next Tuesday? Alrighty then. Toodles." Laughing even harder, Harry threw himself back on the bed.

"You're insane."

Rolling onto his stomach, Harry tossed hair out of his eyes and settled them on Draco. "Beats not having a sense of humour. How come you never laugh, Draco? You scoff and sneer and smirk but I've never seen you laugh."

Draco shrugged. "I have no reason to. Life, to me, isn't a particularly joyous event."

Harry frowned. "That's sad. I imagine you'd be beautiful if you smiled."

Draco stared at him a moment in shock. Finally he said, "don't flatter me, Potter. I find it disconcerting."

Harry surveyed Draco noting the slight pink tinge to his cheeks. "You do, don't you? Hasn't anyone ever given you compliments?"

"Not about... not about things like that, no."

"Oh. That's surprising."

Draco looked genuinely confused. "Why?"

Harry felt his ears go red. "Well, you're bloody fucking gorgeous and heir to a fortune. I thought the whole school would be lining up to pay you homage."

Draco gave him a measured look. "Potter, I think I like you better when you're firing hexes at my arse and cursing me to kingdom come."

Harry smiled; feeling another chuckle working it's way from his chest to his lips. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

Giggling through a snort, Harry managed to reply, "that I was aiming for your arse."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Potter, I am starting to suspect that you are not entirely straight."

Stilling suddenly, Harry met Draco's eye. "Uh, um... no, I'm not entirely. Is that a problem?"

"Maybe," Draco answered rather cryptically.

"Well," said Harry after a pause. "I could pretend to be straight, if it helps."

"No," Draco said rather firmly. "That would most definitely not help." Draco stretched and gave an exaggerated yawn. Biting down on his tongue, Harry surveyed the view this gave him of lithe limbs and a slender body. "It's late, Potter. And I'm tired."

Harry swallowed, screwing up his courage to do what was possibly the most reckless thing he had done since the start of the year. "Move over."

"What? No!" Draco spluttered, getting incredibly agitated for some reason when Harry lifted the covers and proceeded to climb in.

"It's getting kind of cold out here and these covers look awfully nice and warm."

"Hey! What do you think you are -" Harry smiled; Draco was quite stunning at midnight, confused and a little apprehensive, with moonlight painting his skin in blue. "I said no all right so get your arse back... This is so not funny, Harry."

Harry glowed with pleasure at the sound of his name and snuggled deeper under the covers. "You did it again," he sighed, deciding that if he wrapped his arms around the other boy he'd be even warmer.

"Did what? Hey! What the fuck are you...?"

"You called me Harry," Harry replied calmly, arranging his arms into an accommodating position. Not an easy task when they are twined around a body that is squirming. "Mmm... has anyone ever told you that you smell really nice, Draco?"

"Potter, if you do not get your hands off me in the next two seconds your face is going to become intimately familiar with the feel of my fist."

"Intimate and familiar, huh?" Harry said in a low voice. "I don't think I'd object muchly."

"Harry, I promise you that I am being very, very serious."

Locking his legs around the wriggling boy, Harry held tight to his shoulders, forcing Draco to look at him. "So am I."

Draco blanched. "What the fuck has gotten into you? You think you can just waltz in here and apologise and then expect everything to change? Newsflash, Potter, the world doesn't work like that. Not even for you, Mr. Saviour of the Wizarding World."

Harry sighed and loosened his hold on the boy. Draco immediately pushed Harry off and flung himself out of the bed.

Sitting up, Harry ran his eyes over Draco, who was flushed, confused and just a little bit scared. "Draco, not everything has to be as complicated as you make it. We've been ignoring this thing between us since it started and this time I am not going to walk away."

"There is nothing between us, Potter," Draco insisted emphatically, "and there never will be."

"I've seen you staring at me in class, Draco. I've watched you watching me in the change rooms after a match. You can't tell me you're not interested."

"Being attracted to one another is not a reason to go to bed together. Especially when I am Draco Malfoy and you are the Boy Who bloody Lived."

"It's stupid to care about titles and histories that aren't our own. Surely we should be able to decide for ourselves who we are and who we can trust."

"You're even more moronic than I thought, Harry, if you think you can trust me."

"Am I?"

"Fuck," Draco said, covering his face with his hands. "Fuck. Fuck"

"Hey," Harry said in concern, "it's ok."

"No, it's not ok. You have no idea what... no fucking clue what you're asking of me."

Harry slid slowly off the bed, walking carefully over to Draco and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm not asking for anything from you, Draco. I'm offering something to you. It is your choice whether you accept or not."

"Fuck you, Harry. Just fuck you." The words were whispered, almost sobbed and Harry stepped close and put his arms around him.

"Shh... Draco, I just want to hold you." Harry ran his hand down Draco's back and he shivered. "I hate seeing you so alone."

Draco untangled himself from Harry's arms and pushed away. "I can't take this from you, Harry. Not from you."

Harry bit his lip. "I understand."

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Draco clasped his arms around himself. Harry sighed. "Come on, Draco. Go back to bed. You're not well and I couldn't forgive myself if I made you worse."

Draco looked at him a moment before nodding, walking deliberately around Harry to ease himself gracefully between the covers. Hearing a noise in the corridor, Harry glanced sharply towards the door. "I should probably-"

"Could you stay. Just a little longer."

"Of course." Draco scooted over and Harry stretched out beside him, facing the ceiling, anchoring his eyes on the large, glass chandelier.

They lay beside each other in silence, listening to the sound of one another breathing, the shadows from the window filtering through into the atmosphere.

Draco moved, his body jostling against Harry's as he stretched his arms up to cushion his head. "This isn't how I wanted my life to be," he said quietly into the stillness. "I want more than this. I want-"

"Freedom." Harry ended and the moonlight striking the glittering glass above him flared brighter in that second.

Draco paused. "Yes, freedom. I want the right to make my own choices. To make mistakes without the potential of them getting me killed. Or worse."

And Harry so desperately wanted to touch him, to reassure him, to hold him and never let go until the world ended and they were forced to part. "So do I."

"Voldemort?"

Harry tried to swallow the lump in his throat. It had been there since he first heard the words that Sybil Trelawny had uttered in a cramped little room all those years ago. "It's the prophecy," he said softly. "Neither shall live while the other survives."

"Are you scared?"

"Shit, yes. Terrified." Harry clasped his hands together to keep them from trembling. "Sometimes I lay awake at night because I'm too afraid of my dreams."

"I know how that feels."

Harry knew he shouldn't ask; that he didn't want to know the answer. But perhaps he needed to. "Tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me what makes you so scared that you're afraid to sleep."

"I..." Draco faltered and Harry could tell he was on the edge of making a choice, between trust and denial. "I can't."

"Please," Harry said and was ashamed of the plea in his voice.

"If I tell you, you'll go all Gryffindor on me. You'll want to save me and you can't. Not from this."

"Will you be ok?"

"Neither of us has the luxury of guarantees, Harry," Draco said tiredly, turning his head to look into Harry's face.

Those blue eyes shone with unshed tears and Harry's heart was dragged into his throat. "Can I kiss you, Draco," he whispered.

The yearning in Draco's gaze mirrored Harry's own but after a long moment he turned away. "No."

A moment later Harry was surprised when a warm hand slid into his. Draco squeezed it gently. "What ever happens after tonight, Harry, I want you to know that I don't hate you. I've tried, god knows I've tried to hate you but I don't."

"I know. I've tried to hate you too; with little success."

"Will we-" Draco broke off as if unsure he should continue. "Will we be able to do this again, do you think? Just talk?"

"I don't know. I'd like to."

"Me too."

Dawn began to break over the lake and light crept into the Hospital Wing, solidifying the shadows the moon had cast intangible.

"You should go."

"Yeah." Harry sat up and looked down at Draco, their hands still entwined together. He reached down and brushed the boy's cheek, watching the way his eyes darkened at the touch. "You are beautiful, Draco, even though you don't smile."

With that Harry pulled away, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up. Draco sat up, watching him pick up his Invisibility Cloak from the floor. "Goodbye, Draco. I hope your dreams do not disturb you."

Harry turned to leave but in that instant Draco was on his feet. All Harry registered was a frustrated voice saying, "Fuck this," before he was grabbed by his shirt and all but fell onto Draco's waiting lips.

And, god, Draco was hungry, but that was all right because Harry was too and they kissed and groped and tangled their souls together. Draco's mouth was heat in the deep crevices of Harry's being. Hands were twisted through his hair as arms wrapped around him drawing him deeper, drawing him close.

They were both a little breathless when they finally parted and Harry had to step away because the temptation to grab Draco and kiss him until the world dissolved into the ether was far too strong.

"I have to go," Harry said reluctantly, wringing his cloak around his hands to keep from pulling Draco back into his arms.

"I know." Draco closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss onto Harry's lips. "Goodbye, Harry," he whispered, and Harry felt as though the words inscribed remember me beneath his skin.

Harry forced himself to step away and pulled on his Invisibility Cloak. No matter what happens, Draco had said. But what was going to happen? Standing for a moment in the entrance to the Hospital Wing, Harry turned back to watch Draco.

He was blurred by the gauze-like fabric of the cloak but reflected pale and lovely in the strengthening sunlight. Sitting on the edge of the bed, a hand pressed to his lips, he shook with silent grief. Tears fell unheeded down his face and into his lap.

His heart feeling like a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach, Harry turned and walked away.