Hidden

Chapter Twenty-One

Of ribbons and inebriation

It had been eleven days since, on February third, Draco had been released from the confinement of the hospital wing. It was Valentine's Day, and Harry had just been abandoned by Ron, who'd said he was going to go see what Ginny was up to. Harry, of course, knew that Ron was actually going to go help Hermione decorate the castle, but that was alright with him. He'd been wondering where all the Slytherins were that day. Especially one Slytherin in particular. He supposed that either Slytherins didn't like walking about when red ribbons and lacy hearts were all over the castle, or Snape had ordered that no Slytherin disgrace themselves by being present on a day of love, or that Draco was busying himself with something else.

He'd been wondering for the past three days if he should get Draco a Valentine's Day present, and if he was going to, what it would be. He really wasn't sure if the Malfoy boy would have the heart to appreciate a present given to him on Valentine's Day, of all days. Harry almost doubted whether Draco even got Christmas and birthday presents, talk about Valentines. So he wandered around Hogwarts, thoughtful, and worrying about whether it was now too late to buy or make a present, and a card. So absorbed was he in these thoughts, that he bumped straight into Ginny.

Apologizing profusely and yanking his head from the clouds, Harry helped Ginny pick up her fallen books and quill that had fallen from her bag. Every time he saw Ron's younger sister, Harry couldn't help but thank God for making her lose whatever it was that had used to make her blush and stick her elbow in the butter every time she saw him. He'd been told by Fred and George that it had been a horrendous crush of colossal magnitude, but, embarrassed and worried (and somewhat defiant about one day having to tell her no), had refused to believe it. Now, every time he saw her and sensed the usual normal Ginny-ness in her, relief washed over him.

Shoving away the memory of the card he'd gotten from Ginny on the Valentine's Day of his fourth year, Harry waved goodbye and rushed off. Once around the corner, he stopped, taking a deep breath.

He hadn't noticed the bothered look in Ginny's eyes as she watched him leave.

-----*-----

Laughing at a loud burp from Ron, Harry patted his full stomach, wishing he could slide down onto the floor and sleep there forever. He wasn't exactly tired, in fact quite energetic, but all the eating and laughing he'd done had piped down the adrenaline a bit. Standing up and brushing off his dress robes, he whispered in Ron's ear, "Go dance with Hermione. Most people are dancing, and this time you're not stuck with some partner, you can dance with whoever you want. Look at her, that look in her eyes. She wants to dance! Go get her." Before Ron could protest, chuckling, Harry had pushed him forward to bump into Hermione. The redhead couldn't avoid it now. He refilled his goblet with juice and went to sit down on a bench, laughing as he watched Ron and Hermione dance, awkward yet obviously happy.

Suddenly, a movement from the right caught his eye, and turning slightly, he saw, half hidden in the bushes, facing away from him, a head of silver hair glowing in the moonlight. Double checking to make sure his friends were busy, Harry put down his cup and walked outside, eyes following the forward movement of Draco.

Then, Harry's path ended, and there stood a gate, which lead into a bush-formed maze. Shuddering at remembrances of the Triwizard tournament, he opened the gate and walked in, still watching the silver haired head, which was now swaying back and forth. Curious, he barely noticed as the gate closed behind him with a clank. Eager and wondering, Harry stepped into the maze.

When he thought he'd gone through the entire maze, somehow not exhausted yet but wondering why he hadn't met up with Draco yet, he turned the corner to see Draco sliding into an almost camouflaged doorway. Grabbing the doorknob just before the door would have closed, he followed the Slytherin.

-----*-----

Breathing heavily, Harry reached the top of the spiraling staircase, and emerged in a gigantic, grand room. Shaped like a hexagon, the room was filled with dark colors, the four posted bed covered with dark green sheets, the long, floor sweeping window curtains a lush purple, and many black objects, clothes, and trinkets scattered here and there.

"Pardon the mess, Harry. I meant it to be cleaner, but you caught up to me a lot faster than I'd figured you would. Like the ribbons?" Harry looked up, to see, hanging from the ceiling, and lying against the walls, what seemed like quadrillions of crimson ribbons.

"The ceiling is so high, no one ever bothers to look up there, so I figured I'd give a tad of honor to St. Valentine and decorate my room a bit. However, it is the Gryffindor color, so I didn't want to bathe the entire room in red hearts and such like the rest of Hogwarts castle. I am a Slytherin, after all."

Lying on a cushiony chair, relaxed and seductive looking as ever, was Draco. He wore black, as usual, but a red rose was pinned to his coat. Somehow, with his head cradled on his arms on the arm rest, lying on his stomach on the huge chair, legs bent, and steel toed boots clicking against each other, he still managed to look as tidy, elegant, and graceful as ever. Tall knee length dragon hide boots adorned his feet, tight fitting leather trousers caressed his legs, and button up shirt underneath velvet coat made the Slytherin's lean body all the more awing to Harry.

Feeling the stirring of hormones, Harry walked over to take a seat on the chair across from Draco. Smirking, Draco lazily picked up a goblet, pouring stuff into it from a bottle, then placing it onto the table between them where Harry could reach it. Eyeing the purple liquid, Harry said, "That's wine. Isn't it?"

Draco sighed, closing his eyes as he drew back his hand from the goblet, drawling, "Oh, Harry, Harry. Why do you care what it is? Do you always have to know what everything is and what Fate is going to dish out to you next in life? Don't expect everything and everyone to be so predictable, Harry. Just accept it all, for once."

Still reluctant, Harry stared at the cup thoughtfully for a few moments, and then thought Oh what the heck, he's right, and besides, this is a holiday, I'm allowed to indulge, no one can find us here, and it just might taste good.

He picked up the goblet, and had just raised it to his lips when Draco said, "Wait. A toast..." Leaning halfway off his chair, supporting himself on the table with one arm, Draco clinked his goblet against Harry's saying, "a toast, to..."

"To us!" Harry exclaimed, and then downed the cup in a few gulps.

Raising a brow as Harry poured himself another cup, Draco slowly sipped from his own goblet, rolling his eyes at Harry's inelegant drinking fashion. As if reminded of it by Harry's sudden invigoration, Draco added, "Oh, and there is some butterbeer mixed in with the wine in that bottle."

Feeling adrenaline rushing through him like a car going eighty mph, Harry gulped down cup after cup of butterwine, pouring Draco more every time he poured himself more. By the time Draco, who drank in very slow tiny sips, had downed two, Harry had already had about four. Stumbling back and forth from table to his chair, Harry finally lay down, staring up at the crimson colored ribbons.

Then, dropping his goblet and placing the cap back on the bottle, Harry tore a few ribbons off the wall, and straddled Draco with a heavy thump. Closing his eyes, Harry saw green, yellow, and pink lights underneath his eyelids, in many shapes. He began to slide the ribbons against any uncovered skin of Draco's. Wildly inebriated, both boys collapsed into a fit of giggles, rolling down onto the floor with a large thump, the table falling to the ground with a resounding crash.

Still giggling madly, the world more colorful and chaotic than ever before, Harry slid the soft velvet coat off of Draco, and then began unbuttoning the other boy's shirt. If he could just get the aggravating clothes off the Slytherin, then he could tie the boy up in ribbons, and give himself a Valentine's Day present. Yes, that's what Harry wanted to do...

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harsh passion

Draco grabbed Harry's wrists, the second button of his shirt popping off along with Harry's grip on the black silk. Entangled as he was in his drunken void, Harry refused to be outdone, attempting to slip out of Draco's tight grip. The efforts were in vain.

Shutting his eyes tight, breath held back, Draco fought off the sexual urges throbbing through him due to his rousing hormones and inebriation. It was tough, especially with the tantalizing Gryffindor madly wriggling on top of him, trying to get free. The world seemed to stop as Draco lay frozen in that position, the influences of alcohol, libido, and his own strange unidentifiable feelings for Harry surged at him simultaneously, urging him to choose one particular feeling. Yet the alcohol was very weak, his feelings for Harry very confusing, and the libido very suppressed.

Groaning at the suddenness of the other boy's crotch rubbing against his, Draco gave in to all the feelings, alcohol, lust, and whatever else. Surged with sudden adrenaline and spirit, and the desire for dominance, he rolled over so that Harry lay underneath him. Keeping Harry, who also fought for control, at bay, Draco shoved his lips against the Gryffindor's, the passion of desire, anger, and want of control pulsing around them both steadily.

Sliding his tongue into the hot, wet, slippery caress of Harry's mouth, Draco's hands battled against the other boy's movements of trying to shove Draco off, not because he protested against these activities, but because the Gryffindor wanted to be the one controlling and pinning down the other. Draco barely managed to unbutton the last button and slide Harry's shirt off him, as their kiss became one of violent, painful passion, tongues lashing furiously, teeth gnawing, the taste of mingling blood in their mouths.

Exhausted, and unable to touch even a spot of skin of the shirtless Harry, Draco gave up and collapsed on the floor beside the Gryffindor, breath coming in quick gasps. Reluctantly, he surrendered to the other boy, if only temporarily, and allowed the unbuttoning of his own shirt to continue. Every touch of those warm fingers against his skin made him tremble in delight, and unbeknownst to all but Draco, the wriggling of the restless Gryffindor made the hormones begin to march, ever furiously increasing, through him.

The heat of unbridled lust coursing through him, it was all Draco could do to stop from ravaging the other boy then and there. Gasps and fitful moans escaped his lips as the pair of hands caressed every inch of revealed skin, sweet scent surrounding him, smooth lips pressed hard again and again against his own, and Harry's slender mobile body rubbing seductively against him.

Still partly fighting for dominance, determined not to give up, Draco attempted to push the other boy off, yet to no avail. Dizzy with inebriation, among other things, Draco moaned as Harry's nimble hands brushed against his chest, and then glided down lower, towards his stomach. Hissing as the other boy's teeth nipped at his slender neck, Draco grabbed Harry's wrists as his hands arrested the top button of Draco's trousers. Face twisting in effort, Draco wrenched Harry's hands from him and rolled over so he had the top position.

Sucking at Harry's ear, Draco shivered at the erotic moans he heard at simply his touch on the other boy's skin. Then, gliding wet kisses down the Gryffindor's torso, Draco's nimble fingers slipped down past the waistline of Harry's boxers to caress his...

Suddenly, a harsh knocking at the door made both freeze. Goyle's voice, mumbling and low, asked, "Hey, Draco, what're you doing in there? Why don't you come eat? There's some great coconut sprinkled cupcakes..."

"I have a headache, Goyle, leave me alone and don't come in here with your smelly self, or else I'll feel sicker." The sound of receding footsteps was music to their ears. Then, both boys stopped simultaneously, rearranging their disarrayed half clothed selves, and started over. The constant demands for one dominance over the other stopping, they slowed, touches, bites, and licks all as lust filled as ever, yet calmer. Both boys then slept, cradled in each other's arms contentedly.