Long, Long Time

Long, Long Time

"Love will abide, take things in stride

Sounds like good advice but there´s no one at my side

And time washes clean love´s wounds unseen

That´s what someone told me but I don´t know what it means."

Harry Potter sat next to the window in his room, gazing up at the moon. He had always found that the bright glow soothed him, but tonight he was feeling as if he would never feel whole again. He had just recently begun his seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and after the first few days Harry had begun to fall deeper and deeper into his anguish and pain. He could no longer live with his despair, nor could he forget what was causing him more emotional pain than he had ever experienced. At seventeen years old, Harry had already felt enough pain in his life to last longer than a lifetime.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to forget the memories that kept flooding back to him. For so long he had managed to put away the memories, to keep them high on an unreachable shelf in his mind. But the prospect of his schooling being over only a short time from now left him feeling as if he were nothing but an empty shell, void of emotion and love. He had spent the summer toiling with his emotions, doing all in his power to push them far back in his mind. But he could no longer run from the truth. The awful truth. He was heartbroken, and this left him utterly alone. Ron and Hermione just didn´t get it. They didn´t even notice. And that person whom he had fallen for was the last Harry had expected, a bitter person who, in turn, left Harry just as bitter, although possibly more so, Harry knew.

Love wasn´t something Harry Potter had been looking for, but it was certainly one of the most memorable things he had found here at Hogwarts. Harry was a stranger to the wonderful yet painful emotion. He had known love only as a young baby, before his parents were brutally murdered by Lord Voldemort. And hard as he tried, he couldn´t muster up any memory of that love. He was sure his parents loved him, though, even if his aunt and uncle despised him. It was just too bad that they were the ones forced to care for Harry after his parents´ deaths. And so Harry knew he was very lucky to find love at his age, the love between two people that keeps them longing for each other every minute of every day. Harry scowled when he realized that his love wasn´t exactly returned. Because what he felt made no difference, for the one he loved was unattainable. But Harry knew the truth. Harry knew that deep down inside that the boy he thirsted for had to have feelings for him, had to feel how Harry felt. It was in his eyes. Normally they were cold and gray, but Harry had seen other emotions in them before, long ago.

"Draco must love me," Harry murmured to himself. "I know he does."

But Draco would never allow himself to open up, Harry knew, and he was terrified of so many things that he just shut down and, in turn, shut Harry out. Draco was not his choice of love, not in the least, as the two boys had been enemies since school had begun. Harry even remembered when it first began, their hatred of each other. It was their first year, on the Hogwarts Express. Draco had offered a handshake to Harry and, remembering the blonde´s attitude at Diagon Alley, Harry had refused. But Draco had been the first wizard of his own age that Harry had talked to. In fact, Harry well remembered how Draco had conversed with him lightly, Harry´s identity being unknown to him. "How pleasant that was," Harry thought to himself, "and what if I had taken Draco´s hand on the train all those years ago? How would the past seven years have unfolded?" Harry wondered.

Harry shook the images of his first year from his head, craned his neck slightly, and saw that the other seventh years were sleeping peacefully. He turned back to the sky and watched the wispy clouds move past the moon. Just like that night so many years ago, when Draco had exposed his desires briefly but astoundingly. Harry closed his eyes and lost himself in the memory...

Harry was walking through the school that night during Christmas break in his fourth year. He wasn't able to sleep and came across Draco Malfoy sitting in the library, reading. Instinct told him to turn around and leave but Harry lacked the will to ignore even his enemy. To this day he couldn´t place it, but something had drawn Harry to Draco that night. Maybe it was the candlelight reflecting off his white-blonde hair; giving him somewhat of an angelic appearance. This thought made Harry smile; because he knew it must have been the stark contrast of Draco´s angelic appearance and his evil attitude that intrigued Harry that night. He often wondered what would have happened had he decided to turn and go back to his common room that dark, lonely night. But Harry had walked to Draco´s side and sat down. At first, he Draco looked at Harry in shock, as if he did not understand why Harry would be within a ten mile radius of him.

And Harry didn´t blame him. It was not often that Harry and Draco crossed paths alone. Harry had an odd feeling that, without other students around, Draco might act differently.

But Harry assumed wrong, because Draco glanced at Harry with contempt and his face soured into a frown. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, and Harry prepared himself for an insult.

But instead, Harry watched Draco´s face soften and a small smile crossed his pales lips. Harry decided that this was an act of friendliness but feared confirming this, knowing the Slytherin had never shown he was capable of friendliness towards Harry.

Harry smiled back and asked what was interesting enough to keep Draco reading in the middle of the night. Draco shrugged, closed the book, and said "I wanted to be alone and thought I´d read to get away from things for awhile. Why do you even care, Potter?," his eyebrow slightly raised in interest.

Harry sighed and agreed that he, too, needed to get away from his empty, depressing dorm room. He sat beside Draco and turned to him. And in that moment, they looked into each others eyes like neither had done before. Harry had never known what he was feeling then, but it was a general attraction to Draco and for some reason, Draco felt the same towards Harry. They were both lonely over Christmas break, Harry not returning to the Dursley´s and Draco´s father wanting him to stay and study more. Surprisingly, all of the other fourth year Gryffindors in Harry´s dorm had gone home for Christmas, including Ron.

They chatted for a few moments, neither boy really knowing what to say to the other. Harry yawned and stood up to leave, Draco also stood as well. They began to split off toward their own common rooms after leaving the library when Draco stopped and turned toward Harry.

"If you want, come back to my room with me," Harry said impulsively, " I don´t mean to imply anything but it would be nice for some company." At that, Harry turned and slowly proceeded down the hall. He had taken about four steps down the corridor when Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he turned to see a somewhat scared Draco behind him. "I´d like some company," he whispered, a small spark of genuity in his gray eyes, and follow Harry to the Gryffindor common room.

And so they began chatting while sitting in Harry´s room, alone as everyone was home for break. Harry was staring up at the moon, wispy clouds floating by, when Draco said, "I like to look at the moon. Sometimes when I am troubled by my father or schoolwork I sit for hours at my window. I feel soothed by the light. And I feel less alone."

Harry turned and to his surprise, Draco slid right next to him. Harry placed a soothing hand on Draco´s, and at that moment they were connected, fully understanding each other´s need for a gentle touch and stroke of the hand.

Lonliness had swallowed both of them, and both felt the need for a friend. But not just a friend, a feeling that someone else wanted them, that someone else cared.

And Draco brought his hand up to Harry´s chin and stroked his face. Harry, suddenly feeling slightly nauseated and weak at the knees, allowed Draco to caress his face. In the next instant, Draco had pulled Harry´s face to his and kissed him. It was Harry´s first, and Draco´s lips felt pleasing to his own. Draco´s tenderness has surprised Harry, and pulled him deeper into the kiss. Slow at first, the a little more forceful and hungry. He was beginning to feel things he hadn´t felt before, and knew for a fleeting moment that if he was not careful, he would be in trouble. He hadn´t known love before, and so didn´t know what to expect. But he was slowly starting to feel what he knew could only be love.

Draco pulled away from the kiss and sighed. Harry felt a slight quiver as Draco ran his fingers through Harry´s hair.

"Draco...," Harry whispered softly, but Draco kissed him again. Longer this time, more passionate. He began to lean forward and continued the kiss for some time. Harry allowed himself to revel in the kiss. Draco´s soft lips caressed his own and Harry was beginning to feel quite aroused. Soon he was lying back on his bed, Draco on top of him. Draco began to kiss his neck and, upon a reassuring look from Harry, began to unbutton his pajama top. Harry moaned with pleasure as Draco planted soft, sweet kisses on his bare chest. He continued this, Harry lying completely vulnerable, until he had reached the top of Harry´s pants. He slowly removed Harry´s pajamas and took Harry´s arousal into his mouth. Harry felt pleasure the likes of which he´d never known, and within minutes Harry was brought to full release. After this had happened, Harry and Draco had experienced the most fulfilling and excruciating night of their lives. Draco seemed to know what pleased Harry, and both enjoyed the most amazing pleasure of their lives.

Making love to Draco, Harry knew, was one of the best experiences of his entire life.

It was likewise for Draco.

They stayed in Harry´s bed for some time after, every so often giving each other a light kiss. Harry moved his lips to Draco´s eyelashes and kissed them. "Butterfly kisses," Harry said, somehow remembering them from when he was young. Very young indeed, as his mother used to do this to him to calm him as a baby. Draco smiled and whispered that Harry was lovely, and that no butterfly was more beautiful than he. Harry had smiled and admitted the same to Draco.

Draco dozed off and Harry watched him breathe rhythmically, in and out. He memorized his peaceful expression, and the feel of his soft, feathery blonde hair against his skin. Draco´s smooth, creamy skin felt warm to the touch and Harry ran his hand along Draco´s face. Draco gave a faint smile in his sleep at Harry´s touch, and Harry sighed happily.

At one point, Draco's eyes fluttered open and he noticed Harry watching him.

"Harry," Draco began, and stopped when Harry's eyes widened.

"You, you called me by my first name," Harry whispered, and then softly, "Draco..."

Draco smiled and said, "You've never been touched like that before, and neither have I. Why did you allow me to be the first?"

Harry returned the smile and whispered, "Because I wanted to."

And Harry knew from that moment on that he would never forget that night. The night he and Draco had made love for their first, and last, time ever. The only time Draco had opened up, and allowed Harry in. The only time passionate love was experienced by both boys, ever. And Harry knew that if he and Draco never reconciled, it would be the last time ever for him.

It pained Harry, even now in his seventh year, to remember that night. For days after Harry had been happier than he´d ever been in his life. But it was soon brought to an end when Draco had cornered him once in an empty corridor and forced him to promise that he wouldn´t breathe a word of that night to anyone. Harry had promised and, since then, had stayed true. Harry had almost believed that Draco didn't care, but as Draco turned away, Harry saw for a single moment that Draco's determination wavered. His eyes, Harry saw, glinted with regret. Harry could see that Draco was trying hard no to cry.

From then on, Harry would steal glances at Draco once in awhile. But Draco always acted as if he and Harry were complete strangers. Harry knew the truth, though, because he could see it in Draco´s eyes. The anguish, the despair. Draco was not happy, he was cold and broken. But too much was fencing him in, Harry had thought. He had erected walls around him, and there were too many things in his way. He would never have admitted to Harry, or anyone, that he had feelings. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, lover of nothing but hatred and cruelty.

Harry had forced himself to believe that it was just one night, one lonely night, and both had felt a hunger for touch, for love, for utter ecstasy. But Harry remained wounded from that night. He was shown love, he knew it, but the only other person who knew just couldn´t admit the same. And poor Harry told no one, so his wounds remained unseen by all others. His own friends couldn´t help him, they didn´t know. But Harry was never the same after that night. He was lonely and broken, feeling as if he was one half of a person and Draco was the other half to complete him. Time did nothing to heal Harry´s unseen wounds. For nearly three long, torturous years, Harry had been forced to watch his only love walk by him, unabashed. And Harry felt that the only reason he had made it this far was the prospect of waking every day, knowing that he would go to Potions and Draco would be there.

But once they had completed their final year, Harry would no longer see Draco. That night that had changed Harry´s life would be lost forever, a mere shadow of the past. A memory that would never allow him to fully love another. Harry was looking at an eternity of lonely, bitter nights, attempting to grasp that night in his mind and recall every detail.

But it was fading after so much time. And Harry knew soon it would be hard to recall that feeling he got when Draco was inside of him.

"Fool," Harry muttered to himself. He didn´t know whether he meant it about himself or whether he was speaking of Draco. He settled on both.

Harry looked up quickly when Ron ran into the room, wondering if Harry was going down to dinner with he and Hermione.

"Yeah, I´m coming," Harry muttered, and silently thanked himself for being able to keep his normal attitude with Ron and Hermione. They hadn´t ever suspected a thing about Harry and Draco´s secret night, and even better still, they never knew of Harry´s depression and despair. He was able to keep all of this to himself. "But not for much longer," Harry admitted to himself. He was near the point of breaking.