Ulterior Motives

"I will find a center in you.
I will chew it up and leave,
I will work to elevate you
just enough to bring you down.
Trust me... trust me..."

--Sober- tool

Finally, the Boy Who Lived had given in.

It was all too obvious that he didn't know how to kiss very well; his lips were everywhere but where they should be, and as it was, how they stood, Draco was holding his skinny body towards him because he knew the boy would fall to the sand if he weren't embracing him. He was rather disappointed his hands weren't touching bare skin; there was something blocking his grip and he desperately wanted to rip the barrier away. How would he do that? Perhaps if Harry were distracted, that way he wouldn't know what was going on besides the obvious, then he, Draco, could easily undo the buttons...

Without hesitation, Draco began kissing Harry deep, causing him to moan softly and submit reluctantly. Seconds later, only when Draco needed to breathe, did he free Harry, Draco's hands having already floated to the valley of Harry's neck and undoing his robe. Harry leaned forward, his green eyes closing as he quietly gathered his senses, overwhelmed by what had been done. When he opened them again, he eyed Draco with a dazed look as Draco gently slid his hand down Harry's heaving chest.

"Don't worry," whispered Draco. "I'll make you feel better in no time."

He drew in and nuzzled Harry's neck, smelling the salty scent of sweat and sea and faded cologne. He kissed the pale skin lightly and tenderly, while continuously moving the cloth to the ends of the boy's bony shoulders, his fingertips dragging along the collarbone, causing goose bumps to rise on Harry's skin as they passed. Draco wasn't sure if the skinny boy could hold on as his robe fell unnoticed to the sand. He was embraced again by bony hands, cold, long and shivering, gripping his tanned skin as they kissed once more, Harry's body closer than ever, pressing harder, seeking attention.

Draco calmly slid a palm downward over Harry' bony hip, secretly in search of the warmth beneath the wet cloth...

**************************************************.

It has to be a dream, thought Harry, wanting to wake up, feeling it couldn't be real. It was strange, he and Draco. After all this time!

But physically, the boy was there, insistent against him, the robe now gone between them and Draco's cool tanned skin brazenly up against his. He could feel Draco's hand moving downward, snaking over his skin. Harry shuddered, thinking it couldn't be possible, it just wasn't happening, that in a moment, he'd wake up and rush to the bathroom like he'd done every so often, hiding in a stall until he had 'calmed' down. But when Draco released his lips the second time, Harry quickly gasped for breath, his senses blaring, feeling slender fingers continue to slide down until they came to the elastic of his shorts, teasing him whether to venture in or not... What was he about to do? Where would that hand go..?

Something began to scream in his brain, something that wasn't making sense--

This is wrong, a terrible mistake... Draco's hand shouldn't go there!

No! That's not what I want! Harry thought back, his heart racing with anticipation. But before he realized it, he was pushing away from Draco, doing and seeing it, and yet not understanding the how and why he was. One of Draco's hands was still on Harry's shoulder, holding him steadfast, while the other eased quickly off his skin. Harry's glasses slid down his nose, his hands falling away from the other boy as he jerked back, his shoulder grasped tight. Putting his hand on Draco's, he said breathlessly, "No, Draco. Please..."

"Why? What's the matter?" asked Draco curiously.

"I-I don't know. Just please don't..."

But Draco didn't listen and tried to pull Harry close, tried to lean up against him again. Harry stepped back as much as he could away from him. "No!" he exclaimed crossly now, grabbing Draco's hand tighter and pushing it off. He backed quickly, walking and tugging up his shorts as he went, his hands covering himself protectively, embarrassed that his excitement was stronger than he realized, feeling hot against the coolness of the air.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his hands outstretched, like he was expecting Harry back.

Harry wrapped his arms around his self, looking sheepishly at Draco. Shivering in the breeze, his throat felt tight and unable to answer. The voice, he had to pull away...

"Harry?"

"I don't know," said Harry quietly.

Draco stepped closer, examining him curiously. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Again Harry stepped back, his face hot with embarrassment and shook his head. He wasn't sure he could offer Draco an explanation that sounded sane; Eh, my brain told me to do it. Didn't want you to go there... "I don't know," he repeated, which was all he could muster.

Draco looked at him with one eye and snorted. "I knew you wouldn't go through with it," he said, making fists besides his heaving body, his blue eyes slits beneath his falling hair. "I knew you were still afraid of me." His face scrunched with growing anger. "I knew it all along!"

*******************************************

They had dressed in silence.

Harry, his tie unmade, his sleeves rolled at his elbows and hands in pocket, was watching Draco quietly as he wandered about the beach, mumbling curse words Harry knew all too well. He himself had taken quite a bit of time to dress, but had been faster than the other who was still looking for certain articles about the sand. Draco had said the port key was going to activate in a few minutes and that they had better leave or else have to wait another half an hour, which was something he did not want to do.

Harry gazed upward to watch the birds float against the darkening sky. The roar of surf was soothing, but it couldn't stop the piercing sensation in his stomach, which told him it was close to dinner. Nor could erase the ache of regret. Sighing, he dared to glance at Draco again, who was now belting his pants. I should have told him, he thought, should have said I was sorry or something. But he knew it was too late now; Draco was beyond angry and confused at having been denied. He turned his eyes to the sand.

"The whole day wasted!" Draco snapped. He was now tying his shoes.

Harry awoke from his thoughts and peered at him again, pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

"Goodness knows I could've been doing something better than dressing."

Looking away to the place where they had stood only moments before in an embrace, Harry almost wished he had never come here.

"And you had better stop staring at me!" commanded Draco.

Harry closed his eyes, his stomach instantly forgotten.

"I'm surprised the others haven't caught on. Or have you just made it obvious only to me?"

Harry peered hard at him. For his information, Harry had been discreet, had been careful not to let anyone know what he felt and for who, lest he be laughed at. Perhaps Draco had caught him once or twice, but he had yet to say something until now. He was sure Ron and Hermoine didn't suspect a thing. But all the same, fine, if that's what Draco wanted then Harry wouldn't stare anymore--at least not right away anyway. The blond boy threw back his hair and examined him through parted strands. Harry swallowed hard. Why did he have to do that so smoothly?

Draco stood up and strode to his school robe that lay crumbled on the sandy ground near Harry's feet, bending to retrieve it. Then he glared coldly at Harry as he then threw his robe around himself. "Next time, I'll bring the Creevy brothers," he said boastfully. "Now there are two boys who know how to have fun!"

Harry's eyes widened. Colin and Dennis? He never suspected they would even go near Draco, much less come here. "Y-You said no one knew about this place except me."

"Well, obviously I lied," Draco said, lifting his shoulders. "You can be so naïve sometimes, Potter." He peered tartly at the skinnier boy. "Tell me, Harry, just how far have you gone?" he asked, smiling slightly. "I bet you haven't gone far enough. I bet you're as pure as that Mudblood Granger--"

"You shut up about her!" roared Harry, his hands instantly fisting.

Draco looked honestly surprised. "Why? Have feelings for her too?"

"Just leave her out of this!"

Draco raised his hands and snickered as he backed away. "Touchy! Touchy!" he said.

Okay, so he pulled away. It made Draco pissy, but no need to bring in his friends. He wasn't the only one denied. Harry knew it had been too long since their last fight, and maybe Draco was just testing him to see how far Harry could be pushed. Well, if he kept it up, sooner or later, now matter what he felt about him he'd show him... Harry tore away his gaze and began searching where the port key was. Perhaps it was best they leave now--

"Like I said before, just let me catch you staring at me again."

Harry whipped around. "You won't."

Draco snorted.

Turning back, Harry was secretly scared as to what Draco might say to that.

"When we get back, I guess I'll have to warn the boys about you."

Harry's eyes looked up. "There's no need for that," he said.

"Why? Is it only me you fancy?"

Yes, Draco, just you. Of all people, just you, Harry was thinking, but instead turned and gave Draco a harsh look. Draco wasn't going to buy into his silence, but he was beginning not to care.

"I knew it," said Draco. "You're obsessed with me."

Harry froze and tried to blush... but that was like trying not have black hair by just thinking it.

"Why did you pull away then?"

It took a moment to think about it, and once he was saying it, Harry couldn't believe it had come out. "Y-You were going too fast," he muttered weakly, feeling hot and nervous, glad he wasn't looking at the blond boy.

"Going too fast?" Draco exclaimed. "I never go too fast."

Well, you were, thought Harry.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" wondered Draco. "Isn't that why you came?"

Harry shook his head, feeling unsure if it really was why he was here, just what his intention was really. He had thought just being here with Draco was enough--but then came the swimming and the kissing... it had been more than he'd ever hoped for, had ever thought would happen. But to go that far... he hadn't even contemplated it. He faced Draco again. "I-I came because you said I needed to have fun and relax."

"And you would be doing that now if you hadn't stopped me."

Harry felt his insides start to twist.

"It's why I brought you here," Draco continued, fixing his blue eyes on Harry's bespectacled green. "I saw how you've been staring at me, with those mournful looks like you've never been snogged in your life. It wasn't hard to figure out what was on your mind."

"That wasn't on my mind," said Harry miffed.

"Then what was?"

Harry's face was turning every shade of red again, he could feel it. But he wasn't about to tell him the truth.

"Well?" asked Draco curiously.

Suddenly, Harry wanted to really go back to Hogwart's.

"Fine, keep your reasons to your self. I don't care. That's not what I really came for anyway."

"You weren't really concerned for my mental health," said Harry, suddenly having it all become to clear.

"You're finally catching on," Draco said snidely. He looked at Harry malevolently. "Do you really want to know why I invited you?"

Harry didn't nod, but gave Draco a glare that said, Fine, go ahead tell me.

"I've been planning this a long time, Potter," Draco began with a tone of relief that he was getting off his chest. "Do you know how hard it was being nice to you? I never thought you'd fall for it. I truly thought you'd ignore me and go into class. But you did follow me, and I was so sure I was finally going to see and touch what I've heard the girls whisper and wonder about..." His face grew red as he backed up and bent to pick up the port key--which he had been standing on the whole time--and held it like a bag of galleons close to his chest. He came up to Harry again, holding his gaze without a blink. "But unfortunately, I was wrong."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Ever wonder why I have such animosity towards you, Potter? Why I've never had a moment's peace around you? Its because of those eyes," Draco went on. "That rail face. That damned messy hair. Everything about your pathetic look gets me all... riled up."

"Riled up?" said Harry. "Riled up how?"

"How else?" said Draco, and after seeing Harry's still confused look, he said, "I was going to seduce you, Potter, understand?" His face contorting horridly. "That's why you're here. When you least expected it, I was going to have at you without care and leave you crying!"

Harry could hear his mind sounding again. You had to trust him, didn't you? You wanted to think he'd change but he hasn't...Harry shook his head, everything suddenly going blurry. This wasn't real, it was a dream...(a nightmare) and he was going to wake up very soon...

Draco moved backwards. "I've always hated you for making me feel that way. Today I'd thought I'd finally do something about it, but you and your bloody inhibitions!"

Harry blinked, trying to clear his eyes. Feel? The cold-hearted bastard actually felt something...?

"I don't care what you feel for me," Draco said watching him intently. "I never have." Draco continued speaking as if he'd never said anything so horrible. "It's almost dinner," he said coolly. "We'd better be heading back."

Harry shook his head, his vision getting more and more indistinct. What they had done only moments ago was lost totally lost now. Draco had never cared, only wanted one thing, and now... now.... Harry wanted to rip his bloody eyes out! He reached into his robe pocket and tightened his hand around the 11-inch holly stick that was in there. How dare he think he could do it, how dare he even try...

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco asked, having caught his movements.

Harry didn't answer. He was going to turn him into a ferret like he had once been years ago or perhaps zap him into tiny bits. Shakily he removed his wand from the folds of his robe, keeping it to his hip, wanting nothing more now than to get Draco right between the eyes.

"You wouldn't dare," snarled Draco.

Harry scrunched his face. "I will," he growled and raised his wand to eye level.

Draco laughed. "Go on then," he said. "Try it. But I bet you won't do it."

I'll bet a thousand galleons I will, thought Harry. He had embraced with him, had kissed him... Where would he be now if he hadn't listened to his conscious? Alone on the shore, crying like Draco had wanted? Harry shook his head vigorously No, he was here now, standing, capable of causing great pain to Draco...a curse, the curse to kill him... "I will!" Harry yielded through gritted teeth.

"Go on then!" said Draco stepping forward. "Do it! I dare you!"

Harry pointed his wand directly between the blond boy's eyes, taking aim and the stance of dueling. But he could barely see through his fuzzy sight, glaring at him for what seemed ages, trying to blink back the clouds that threatened to rain. His hand was sweaty around his wand, his heart pounding through the pain. No spell, no curse, no hex or even a charm came to mind. The tightness in his chest was spreading now, traveling like a disease he didn't want...

He's right, thought Harry. I can't do it. I can't...

He fought to keep his wand steady and up, but his body eventually won and lowered the wand to his side. His sights only got blurrier.

"I knew you wouldn't," said Draco, a curt smile on his face. "You love me too much, Potter. How pathetic." He held out the port key. "Here," he said commandingly. "Take hold of it. It's going to activate in a less than a minute."

But Harry didn't move.

"Potter!"

Again, Harry refused to budge.

"Fine! Have it your way!" Draco cried. "I didn't want to go back to Hogwart's holding your hand anyway." Raising his finger, he scolded him like Uncle Vernon once too often had done. "But don't let me find you living here the next time I return, do you hear? That's all I need is for you to become a hermit wizard living in my paradise!" He turned and marched across the sand, and after a ways, he stopped and faced Harry. "Last chance," he called, holding out the scuba fin.

Harry remained glued, holding his tongue; using everything he could to contain his confusing madness inside. He gripped his wand tighter and tighter until he could feel his nails embed into his palm. He was going to wait. He needed to wait...

Draco brushed down his robes of the sand, slicking back his blond hair, and straightening his shoulders. Glancing down at his watch, he started counting down the seconds. "Eight, seven, six... five seconds to go--!"

Harry merely glowered as the blond boy disappeared in a flash of light.

Harry then dropped his wand, his green eyes behind his spectacles closing, not wanting to witness the sun finally breaking free of the clouds to show the beginning redness of dusk. His hands fisted and pounded his thigh.

This isn't a dream after all, he thought miserably. This whole mess is nothing short of a nightmare.

And how desperately he wanted to wake up.

******************************************

A half an hour later, Harry was walking solemnly off the Quidditch field, his mind whirling with self-pity.

When the port key had returned to the beach 15 minutes after Draco had left, Harry had half-heartedly hoped the boy would be with it, but he wasn't, and had picked it up a few minutes later to lay it in his lap. For what seemed an eternity, Harry had sat and waited on the hill, unable to move so much as a muscle lest his throat release a cry. When it was time, he transported back to the school, and found himself on moist grass under the Quidditch stands. In the distance he had heard the familiar voices of the Ravenclaw players as they practiced their strategy for Saturday. Harry figured Draco had moved the port key, so they wouldn't discover him.

How nice of him to do that.Â

Leaving the portkey behind, he strode silently to the great castle, not caring how he looked or felt: weary already of the commencing night, with semi-wet hair, sand all over his robes and sand in his shoes. The teachers and students called to him, but he ignored everyone, reaching the Gryffindor dorms in no time. At the door he spoke in a cracked voice the password to the fat lady in pink, and trudged up to his quarters and to his bed, where he removed his glasses and collapsed forward, his arms supporting his face. The groan he had been fighting would have escaped (and loudly) if he hadn't heard a deep voice behind him.

"Harry?"

He swallowed hard. He had thought he was alone.

"Where you been? You've missed dinner."

Slowly, the Boy Who Was Stupid Enough To Be Almost Seduced By Draco rolled over and put his glasses back on.

It was his best friend Ron Weasley, standing tall, his eyes wide with wonderment. His red hair was twisted up as if he'd been running it through with his hand, though he couldn't see how: clutched in one long palm was a book, most likely the Chudley Cannons Invade America one he had gotten him for Christmas last year; in his other, he had a half eaten apple. "Are you alright? Professor McGonagall's been looking for you everywhere." He paused, looking at Harry curiously. "Is that sand on your robes? Your hair...is it wet?"

Harry ran a hand through the black mess, as if it would straighten it up, feeling it rough from the seawater. He shook his head and would've answered, but his lips hurt.

From Draco's rough kissing?

Ron threw his items onto his bed and went to sit next to Harry--but Harry instantly sat up and moved over two places. "Go on. Tell me about it," he said interestedly. His nose scrunched up. "Hey, what's that fishy smell?"

Harry's throat tightened. "Goyle," he lied. "He caught me out by the lake and pushed me in when I wasn't looking. He ran before I could retaliate. Been looking for him for hours."

"The bastard!" Ron cried. "I saw him at dinner. He and Goyle were headed to their room just now. Maybe if we catch him there--" He instantly stood up.

Harry should have expected that. Quickly, he said, "Er, no, Ron, really. We can do that tomorrow. I don't feel well right now."

Ron looked at him curiously. "But Draco's going to get detention. I heard it from Snape himself who was looking for him that he's been skipping his classes. What if Snape's talking to him right now--?"

"Another time, Ron," said Harry sternly.

Ron wrinkled his nose. "How about if I get back at him then?"

Harry shook his head.

"C'mon!"

"No!" insisted Harry.

Ron gave him a quizzical look. "Harry, we're talking a sure bet here!"

"I know," said Harry. "But another time, okay?"

Ron hesitated a moment, biting his lower lip. "Oh, alright. But only if you're really, really sure."

Harry nodded. "I am."

Heaving a heavy sigh, Ron sat again next to Harry.

"Ron, really. I don't feel well."

"Oh. Okay." Giving him a sad once over, Ron got up, went to his bed, and retrieved his things. "You do look a bit tired, mate. Sick really. You stay here and rest while I'll go find... er, I mean I'll go see about your dinner."

Harry lay again back on his bed as Ron went to the door.

"If I were you though," Ron called back to him. "I'd feel better quickly. McGonagall said she'd be back in twenty minutes and if you weren't here by then...." There was a silence. "That was 17 minutes ago."

Harry just nodded.

Ron opened the door and Harry could hear muffled voices and shuffles of feet as if people were trying to come in. But Ron, being the good friend he was, held them back. "Hey!" one deep throaty voice called out. "Is he here yet?" Harry could recognize Neville Longbottom anywhere, but Ron whispered that Harry was sick and shouldn't be disturbed. It might be contagious.

Harry wanted to smile, but he was too busy struggling with the tightness in his throat.