Adamo Adversarius

"Love and hate are so alike, so closely bound, by fragile strings which break, when pulled too quickly -- they intertwine." - Span

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Malfoy?"

"Don't call me that"

"What, Malfoy?"

Draco shivered. "Yes, that."

"What do you want me to call you? Prince of Darkness, perhaps?" A hint of a smile lingered at the corners of Harry's mouth.

"I think Draco will suffice." Storm cloud eyes glinted slightly in the half-light of evening.

"I don't know how you can be so calm. What if we get caught?"

"Don't be a wet blanket, Potter." Draco's shoes squelched on the damp grass underfoot, "We won't get caught."

Harry sighed and quickened his pace to keep up with the Slytherin. "Where are we going anyway?"

Looking straight ahead with no sign of stopping Draco whispered, "You'll see."

***

Branches snapped and creaked as they walked, and Harry found himself constantly wiping drops of water away from his face as they fell from heavy leaves above. "Draco, I'm drenched."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Harry reached forward and grabbed Draco's arm, causing the boy to wobble on his feet and slide awkwardly backwards across the slippery ground. "Shit, Potter!" Draco cursed as he regained his balance.

"I want you to tell me where we're going, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes traveled down to where Harry's fingers gripped firmly onto his arm, and Harry pulled his hand back as if he'd just realized he'd been holding it over an open flame. "I said, don't call me that." Harry's eyes widened and Draco couldn't help smirking at the alarmed expression on his companion's face. "If I told you now, it wouldn't be a surprise when we got there, would it?"

Harry groaned, "I hate surprises..."

***

Draco slumped down on an old, moss-covered log and quietly pondered his surroundings. Reaching into the gray pocket of his trousers he pulled out a small, plastic wrapped rectangular packet and a pack of matches. He glanced up to find himself face-to-face with a very pissed off Potter.

"You can't be serious. This is it?" Harry's shoulders fell slightly. "We walked all this way for a moldy old log?"

"This is where I come to think." Draco slid a cigarette out from the small packet and placed it between his lips. "Don't insult the log." The cigarette waggled in sync with Draco's lips as Harry watched.

Another drop landed on Harry's forehead, and he angrily swiped it away. "Why do I ever listen to anything you have to say?"

The woods were alive with light momentarily as Draco lit his cigarette. "Because," he exhaled grinning, "you love me, Potter, that's why."

With a deep sigh, Harry flopped down onto the log next to Malfoy and grabbed the cigarette packet from his hands. "No Malfoy, I hate you, I really, really hate you."

"Yeah, what's the difference?"

Harry took a slow drag on the cigarette, giving the nicotine time to explode inside his head. "They're opposites," he raised an eyebrow.

"You really think so? I'm surprised with you. Everyone knows the opposite of love is apathy."

"Then what's the opposite of hate?"

"Apathy," Draco repeated.

Harry nodded sagely, allowing the word to sink in, branding itself on the surface of his brain. Apathy. Lack of emotion or feeling. Draco was right about one thing, he certainly was not apathetic. "That doesn't mean I love you, though."

Draco flicked the ashes from the tip of his cigarette and shrugged. "It's close enough, anyway. Why else would you follow me all the way out here?"

"Possibly because I'm addicted to death-sticks." Harry studied the glowing end of his cigarette instead of looking into Draco's eyes. "Do you have some sort of hidden itinerary?"

Draco stared straight ahead into the Forbidden Forest, avoiding Harry's eyes as well. "Look, if you'd rather find someplace to smoke all by yourself, be my guest. I thought you'd enjoy the company."

"I do." Harry risked a peek in Malfoy's direction and watched him purse his lips around the cigarette butt, his eyelids drooping as he inhaled. As Harry watched, the soft drip, drip of rainwater falling from the trees became the pat-pat-pat of fresh rain hitting the forest floor.

"Fuck," Draco muttered, "give me your cloak." He took out his wand and suspended their cloaks above their heads, creating a makeshift umbrella against the rain. Even still, they had to huddle together to remain dry. "This is just brilliant," not to mention convenient, Draco added silently.

And so they sat, two mortal enemies, side-by-side, elbow-by-elbow, thigh-by-thigh, smoking together in the pouring rain. It felt, at least to Harry, rather surreal. Harry pulled another cigarette from the package. "Where are the matches?"

"That was my last one," he could use his wand as a lighter, but it was occupied keeping them dry. "Here, put it in your mouth." Draco leaned in towards Harry and pressed the burning end of his cigarette to Harry's unlit stick. The tips fused, one igniting the other, turning it on, so to speak. Draco turned it on, and Harry wrapped his lips around it and sucked, the lit tip glowing in the now-darkness. "There you go."

Harry whispered, "Thanks," his face a little less than two inches from Draco's own. The moment stretched into eternity, and Harry's ears filtered out the noise from the falling raindrops; all he could hear was the soft sound of Draco breathing.

"The thing about us..." Instead of moving away, Draco stared, unblinking, into Harry's eyes. "...is that we both crave something dangerous. Something that is slowly killing us."

Harry searched Draco's face for clarity, but instead became more confused by what he saw in Draco's eyes. "What does that mean?"

Draco leaned closer, "If you're going to do something, Harry, then do it already. We don't have all night."

Ah, but we could, thought Harry, as he pressed his lips to the other boy's fuller set. Draco responded immediately to the kiss, parting his teeth and allowing Harry's tongue to enter the moist confines of The Malfoy Mouth. He grabbed Harry's hips and roughly hoisted Harry onto his lap. Harry sat, one leg on each side of Draco's torso, marveling at his strength.

"Don't want to burn the forest down," Draco said as he took their cigarettes and snuffed them out in the rain. He then tilted his face up and kissed along the shelf of Harry's jaw. He extended his tongue and licked down to Harry's Adam's apple, delighting in the wave of goosebumps that violated the porcelain skin at his every touch.

Harry explored the warm skin beneath Draco's robes with delicate fingertips, while determined lips continued their path across his jaw line, licking the tender skin at the base of his neck. Harry moved to unbutton Draco's trousers, enjoying the tiny gasps and breathless moans being emitted against his ear.

A cold hand clamped down on Harry's wrist just as he began to feel burning skin beneath the fabric. "Did you hear something?"

"No, I..."

"What's that?" Draco pointed at something over Harry's shoulder.

Harry twisted around to look behind him, and saw a pair of glowing red eyes peering back at him from the shrubbery. "Oh shit, it's Mrs. Norris!" He got up to run back to the castle before Filch caught them, but found that his wrist was still bound by cold fingers.

"Tomorrow night, then?" Draco asked.

Harry only hesitated a moment before nodding, then disappeared into the forest, a smile tickling the corners of his lips.