Part Five of Six

Part V

The Room of Requirement apparently decided that Harry needed a wake-up call. A window that quite obviously didn't lead outside poured sunlight over him in the rudest way.

He slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Draco up. In the course of a mere day, their lives had drastically changed course. How to go about a normal life, now, knowing what he did and feeling how he did? He knew his feelings were real. Confused, definitely, but real. He could justify it however he wanted, but it didn't change what had happened. He'd given his entire life to someone he'd hated for as long as he'd known him.

Draco had said he wanted to make Harry happy, and Harry knew that had been the truth. But just because it was true didn't mean it was what Harry wanted...would Draco ever love him beyond what his veela instincts made him do? Harry would never know. Would he ever love Draco outside of his own need for someone to share his life with? Maybe he'd never know that, either. What kind of a relationship was based on that sort of ugly co-dependency?

Gathering his robes, Harry dressed, exercising an efficiency he wasn't usually capable of. His wand was under his pillow. Draco's arm was also under his pillow. Harry had slept on it. Approaching the bed, Harry felt beneath the pillow for the length of wood, careful to avoid Draco. Grasping it, he pulled it out and exhaled quietly.

At the door, he considered, again, waking Draco up. Telling him how scared he was, how much he needed it all to make sense. But Draco couldn't reassure him because the truth was, Draco didn't love him. Obviously. It had only been a day. But Harry's feelings were more than just not wanting to be alone. There was something about Draco, specifically, that had made rejecting him impossible.

Harry sighed. Draco slept so soundly. Harry had worried he would snore, but he was utterly silent. He did move a lot, though, but Harry had liked all the different ways they'd pressed together throughout the night.

Slipping through the door, Harry made it back to Gryffindor Tower having decided nothing. Not that there was a decision to make in the first place. But they'd done enough to keep Draco healthy. Maybe that was all that was needed. Harry had asked for more...hand-holding and the like...and Draco had agreed only because Harry wanted it. What did Draco want? Not Harry, surely. He'd been hoping Harry would reject him, after all.

So if Harry claimed not to want that stuff, Draco wouldn't feel forced into something he didn't want, and they could just go back to the way things were. Harry would have his life partner and Draco would have his mate.

And if it wasn't enough... Harry would make it enough.

Once in his dorm, he slipped into the showers, rinsing away the evidence of his night, though not the physical twinge that reminded him. He wouldn't spell that away. His cock began to thicken and rise at the memory of Draco above him, moving so sinuously, bringing a pleasure so sweet and hard it had to be fake...

No, there was no time for that. He wanted to get dressed before his dorm mates got into the shower, in case Draco had left any marks...not to mention the one mark he didn't want anyone to see.

Drying off quickly and dressing again, in clean clothes this time, Harry sat on his bed. What would happen after Hogwarts? Would they share a bed? Would Draco want to marry some witch and make an heir? Keep Harry on the side? A low rage roiled in his gut at the very idea. But Draco had mentioned not wanting to make veela babies with other veela; maybe that meant he didn't care about having kids.

Unable to stand the tension, Harry left the room just as Neville began to stir. He wanted to talk to Ron; he wanted to talk to Hermione. He needed to talk to Draco, he knew. He just couldn't quell the thought that whatever he said to his veela boyfriend would make him do whatever he could to make Harry happy instead of giving him real answers.

To his immense relief, Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, three books open before her as she brandished a pink hi-lighter with the air of someone wielding a great power.

"Harry," she said warmly with a smile for him as he sat down a little more gingerly than he might have liked.

"I wanted to thank you for your support. Of Draco and me." Harry eyed the toast but decided it could wait. His stomach hadn't quite settled yet.

"It's sort of my job to keep a level head when Ron's around," she said. She tugged her hair back into a messy ponytail, the elastic disappearing inside the mound of hair. "But the truth is, despite what I said... Harry, I'm worried about you. I've been reading up on this veela rejection thing...you said you couldn't manage to mean it. Why do you think that is?"

A little disappointed that he wasn't going to get the unconditional support he'd been hoping for, Harry said, "Well, since you obviously already know, why don't you tell me."

Hermione leaned forward. "It means you're afraid of spending the rest of your life alone, so instead of searching for the right person and risking heartache, you latched onto Draco because he made you feel less lonely."

"Well, don't pull any punches," Harry said, eyes wide. It was nothing more than he'd already figured himself, but hearing it from Hermione was rather like getting it from an encyclopaedia...introduced as fact.

"I'm sorry. I've never had one of my friends tie himself to his worst enemy because the idea of growing old alone terrified him more than Draco Malfoy."

Bitterness started to burn behind Harry's eyes, but he forced the feeling away. This was Hermione. She wasn't trying to hurt him. "What do you expect me to do? It's done."

"It's done?" she repeated, frowning. Then her eyes grew wide and she gave a soft gasp. "It's done. You two..." She waved her hand, blushing.

"Yeah, we definitely..." Harry repeated the action. "We also..." Another flourishing hand motion. "And we definitely..." A last, almost vulgar gesture.

Laughing, Hermione placed her hand over Harry's. He turned his palm-up and grasped hers, grateful for the reassurance.

"Still, I'm afraid that everything Draco says and does is because the veela in him wants to make me happy. How can I ever be sure of his sincerity?"

Hermione's hand tightened. "You can't be sure. Maybe if you'd given it some time before you jumped right in, but it is what it is. You have to take him at face value."

"How can I when he's always presented two faces to everyone?" Harry sighed, drawing his hand back. The toast was finally beginning to look appetising, so he slathered butter over a few slices and tucked in.

"So you two completed the claiming last night then? I can't believe he let you out of his sight!"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, the words garbled around his mouthful.

Hermione's meaning became apparent when the Great Hall doors slammed open and Draco walked in amidst a swirling mist, veela features superimposed over his own like in the Herbology class.

The hall wasn't full, but there were enough students to make Draco's entrance cause a stir. Like before, though, no one seemed to notice anything unusual about Draco. Harry realised only he could see it when Draco went all veela.

Harry's stomach clenched in rebellion against the toast as Draco stormed forward, rage twisting his features. He grabbed Harry by the robes and hauled him out of his seat. Harry protested, but the translucent image of Draco's beak snapped at him, and it looked sharp enough, and real enough, that Harry shut his mouth.

Draco dragged Harry from the hall, his longer strides making Harry trip up. Hermione ran after them, yelling at Draco. As they passed through the doors, a third-year Ravenclaw asked Hermione if he should get the Headmistress, but Hermione said that she had it under control and not to tell anyone. Her voice carried across the hall, and Harry hoped she had enough clout as Head Girl to keep the rumours from circulating.

After veering off into an alcove, Draco slammed Harry against the wall, knocking the wind out of him.

"You're not hurt," Draco said in a low voice, his eyes narrowed as he took a long look down Harry's body. His hands were like claws on Harry's shoulders, pinning him to the wall.

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione hovering around the mouth of the alcove, looking anxious. "Well, I wasn't," Harry snapped, rolling his shoulders and trying to get Draco's hands off of him.

"Then why," Draco said very slowly, "weren't you in the bed when I woke up?"

Hermione gave a squeak and Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, go on. We're fine here. Draco can't hurt me."

"It might be worth it," Draco countered, but low enough that Hermione couldn't hear.

"Are you sure? Because I've read..."

"Granger, go. This is between me and my mate."

Hermione's back straightened. "All right, but only because Harry asked me to, not you. And if you hurt him in any way..."

"I'm sure you'll make your displeasure known. Goodbye."

With a last uncertain look to Harry, Hermione walked away. The hallway was noiseless, most students still sleeping. Harry hoped whatever this new drama was would be wrapped up before people started filing past on their way to breakfast. The alcove was tucked away, but they weren't exactly hidden.

"What's your problem, Draco? I can't even get food by myself?"

"Not after a mating, you can't!" For the first time, Draco's anger seemed to flicker, and through it, Harry could tell he was really frustrated or hurt or... something.

"You keep telling me the rules after I break them. How was I supposed to know?"

Draco looked at Harry for a long time, long enough that Harry wanted to wave his hand in front of Draco's face to see if he was still receiving. Then Draco's eyes went dark, and he went melty...it was the only way to describe him. His stiffly held limbs lost all tension, his face relaxed into a seductive smile, his hands loosened their grip on Harry's shoulders and slid down his chest. He closed the gap between them until they were touching from knee to chest, and Draco's cheek pressed against Harry's as he whispered in his ear, "I wanted to have you again."

Harry's body reacted to the ministrations, but not enough to make him forget being thrown against a stone wall. "So you're angry because we didn't get to have sex again?"

Nodding, Draco continued, his voice a breathy whisper, warm and enticing. "I would have fed you breakfast, anything you wanted. I would have given you a massage until all your little aches went away...and I know you have them. I would have brought you whatever you wanted. Fuck, I would have done your homework." Draco's eyes went hard again as he looked at Harry. "I was supposed to take care of you! How can I do that when you're not there?"

"You can't expect me to just know this stuff, Draco. Either you tell me beforehand or you can't get upset when I make a mistake."

But Draco wasn't placated. "Everyone knows not to leave their lover in bed alone after the first time."

"It wasn't your first time," Harry felt compelled to point out, still a little sour about that fact.

"It was, though. In every way that mattered. And I hated that you weren't there. I wanted to... to do things for you."

Harry knew that was the veela part speaking, and it made Harry's insides twist up. The Draco part of Draco was probably glad Harry had hightailed it out of there before they'd woken up together.

"I'm sorry. You seem to forget I've never done this before."

Draco leered. "I didn't forget, my little virgin. Your reactions were way too unrehearsed, too natural."

"Whatever," Harry said, flushing and hating the rush of pleasure it gave him when Draco spoke to him like that. "So just tell me what else to expect, okay? I don't fancy getting pushed around like this."

"Oh, but Harry, I just love pushing you around..." Draco grinned and leaned in to lick Harry's neck.

"Cut it out and just tell me!"

Sighing, Draco pulled away, but he was still close enough that Harry could feel the tickle of his breath. "I'm going to want to touch you a lot. All the time. Not always sexually, but sometimes. I don't know how long that stage will last; it's different for everyone. And you can't let other people touch you, especially men."

"No, that's not an okay rule. Most of my friends are guys and I'm not going to tell them not to horse around with me or clap me on the back or anything. You're being ridiculous."

"It's not me!" Draco protested. At Harry's raised eyebrow, he relented. "All right, some of it is. But it's not all me. You just don't want to make a veela jealous. You don't want to make me jealous."

A part of Harry realised there was something important in that distinction, but he was too busy getting worked up over the idea that he'd never enjoy human touch from anyone but Draco for the rest of his life.

"How about this...I won't touch any males in any way except Ron or except in an emergency. What other blokes decide to do with their hands is not my call. I'm not going to tell people off for it, and neither are you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "So you won't agree to what I want, but you try to make me agree to not stop people from touching you. It doesn't work that way, little mate. If someone touches you, I will stop it."

Suddenly Harry felt very tired. He let his head fall back against the wall, uncaring that the stone jabbed him unkindly. He wanted to give in and just let Draco do whatever he wanted. But an even bigger part of him, a more familiar part, made Harry want to rail and fight until Draco gave in to him as Harry always seemed to give in to Draco.

Remembering something Draco had said while he'd had Harry docile and compliant in the Great Hall the day before, Harry said, "Didn't you say going public was part of the deal?"

Draco nodded. His eyes were still focused and fixed on Harry, which led Harry to believe that Draco hadn't forgotten the previous conversation and wasn't likely to anytime soon. "Veela are proud creatures," Draco said, standing up a little taller and sneering when Harry rolled his eyes. "We like to show off what's ours."

"Sounds more like making sure no one else makes a move on me."

"Yes, well, that too. I don't like the way that Weaslette looks at you. I thought you said you came out."

"I did!" Harry said. "Ginny's fine. We were each other's first love. That sort of thing is hard to put away quickly. I had an easier time because I'd been pulling away for almost the entire time we were together."

"You loved her, then." It wasn't a question.

Harry braced himself for wings, claws, and beak, but none came. "Yeah, I did. And I still do, but as a friend. Draco, don't do the jealousy thing now, please. I've had enough of it today."

Breathing deeply, Draco seemed to centre himself. "Just tell me one thing."

"All right."

Draco's lips met Harry's in a sweet kiss, exploring, not demanding. His tongue didn't venture out, his teeth didn't bare. It was just an easy, slow kiss, the kind that could become heartbreakingly familiar over the years, bringing them back again and again to this stolen moment.

"Am I a better kisser than she is?"

Harry groaned.

*

Draco's method of coming out as Harry's boyfriend was not quite what Harry had envisioned.

He'd pictured Draco getting up in the middle of dinner and announcing to the entire school that Harry was his, and hands off. The idea of it both made Harry's head ache and his heart pound. He wasn't a fan of Draco's jealousy, but the possessiveness, while annoying, touched something inside him. Draco wanted Harry all to himself. Draco wanted him. Harry didn't think his self-esteem was bad enough to warrant actually enjoying being lorded about like that; maybe it was just the way he was.

The Slytherins seemed to know first. It was a slow discovery, but over the course of the next week, Harry realised that, somehow, they knew. The way they looked at Harry, the way they sat even farther from Draco while still showing an almost fearful respect... Draco had told them.

If Draco had only told his housemates, it might have happened that no one else would even know about it. The Slytherins were notoriously close-mouthed about in-house business. Of course, that wouldn't suit Draco's needs. The Ravenclaws were next.

There were a lot of Slytherin-Ravenclaw friendships, especially in the lower years. News spread that way, and because the Ravenclaws were less afraid of Draco and more friendly with Harry, they didn't have any problem actually asking Harry. Knowing better than to deny it, and not really wanting to anyway, Harry had confirmed the rumours for the first time on his way to Herbology.

With Harry's confirmation, the rumour mill kicked into high gear. Still, the Gryffindors didn't know and Harry wanted them to find out from him.

But because he was tired of coming out, one way or another, he asked Hermione to handle it.

Handle it she did. When Harry walked into the common room a few hours after, having wasted time in the library wondering whether anyone had ordered his commitment to an insane asylum, Harry immediately knew that Hermione had threatened his housemates to be accepting. Not a single person spoke out against Harry's new relationship. It wouldn't have really mattered if they had, but it was still nice to be able to relax. The worst was over.

Or so he'd thought.

Somehow, the Hufflepuffs were the absolute worst of the bunch, and not because they were judgemental or cruel.

For some reason, they were absolutely in love with the idea that Harry and Draco were dating. He'd even heard the term 'star-cross lovers' bandied about, though Hermione had sternly ground that to a halt with a quick lesson on how that particular story had ended. Draco and Harry even had Hufflepuff groupies, as Draco called them, following them around in hopes of seeing... Harry didn't even want to know what.

But as the days and weeks passed, people got used to the idea of seeing them together. They weren't obvious in their relationship, not even holding hands except under the table during the rare dinners Draco spent with the Gryffindors.

Ron hadn't quite come around to the idea. The problem seemed to be that Harry was claiming Draco had changed, yet around Ron and Hermione, he was his old vitriolic self again. There was almost none of that sweet, almost romantic Draco that Harry had become familiar with during their time alone. Ron bore the company with the grace of a Weasley...that was to say, hardly any grace at all...and Hermione pushed too hard and too fast for complete reconciliation on all parts.

There was a part of Harry that he was holding back from Draco, and the effort of doing so made him feel sick. He wasn't used to not giving all of himself, especially to someone he was dating. When he'd been with Ginny, before things had become strained, he'd held nothing back. Being free with his emotions, his heart, made Harry feel human, connected. Keeping that to himself instead of sharing it felt plain wrong. Still, he couldn't bring himself to give up that last shard when there was no way he could know if Draco wanted it.

Harry had fallen for Draco, the wizard. But it had been the veela who'd fallen for Harry.

*

"How excited are you for the Hogsmeade weekend?" Ron asked, excitement warming his tone despite the fact that Draco was present.

It was an unaccountably warm Thursday in November, and Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were taking advantage of it by sitting outside by the lake. Time had passed more quickly than should have been possible. Even though Harry's life had changed drastically and permanently, nothing was really different except for the regular presence of Draco and the very regular sex.

Or, almost sex. Sex without actual fucking still counted as sex, he was sure. He certainly counted it. After the first time, Draco hadn't pressed for that kind of sex again, and despite the fact that Draco had made it good for him, Harry hadn't encouraged it, either. He wanted to do it again. Mostly. But the other stuff was so good, and Draco really didn't seem to mind... It was possible that Draco didn't like anal sex. In Seamus' book, which Harry had had ample opportunity to peruse since he'd first been given it, it said that many gay men did not engage in regular anal sex, even with long-term partners. It seemed like Draco was that type. And that was fine.

Really.

In response to Ron's question, Harry shrugged. It wasn't cold enough to make him dread the walk, but it just didn't hold the same mystery and excitement as it had when everything had been new. It would also be the first time he and Draco appeared in public...in the real world, as Harry thought of the world outside Hogwarts...together.

Would there be hand-holding?

Harry hated that his mind was so stuck on that idea.

No one else answered either: Hermione was working on their Transfiguration homework and Draco usually didn't answer Ron's questions. Taking pity, Harry said, "I hope it doesn't snow."

"I hope it does. I reckon I know a couple people who could be taken down a notch with a good, old-fashioned snowball fight."

Though Draco didn't look at Ron, he said, "Try it, Weasley, and you will regret your birth."

Ron rolled his eyes, looking to Harry for support. That was the worst...being caught in the middle. He gave Ron a weak smile.

"I'm not going, anyway," Draco announced, looking at his nails.

"You're not?" Harry asked, surprised. He tried not to let his disappointment show on his face. After all, he was the one keeping the relationship at arm's length. Still, though, was it too much to ask to be seen together in a way that was obviously more than friends? In his imagination, he'd always pictured himself as the publically affectionate type. Not to the point of making other people uncomfortable, but definitely kissing and, yes, hand-holding in public. Harry loved what they did in private, but when Draco'd said he'd need to touch Harry a lot, Harry had thought that would mean more than just during their time alone.

"Can't be bothered. There's nothing I need and I wanted to work on my Potions essay."

"Yes, sucks to have to actually work for your grade now that Snape..."

"Ron!" Harry shouted, knowing how Draco felt about his former Head of House and surprised by Ron's coldness, given what they knew about Snape. "Just stop it. If you...and you, too, Draco...can't be civil, I'll just leave."

"I am completely fine with that, Harry," Draco said snidely, glaring at Ron. He looked a little pale, so Harry knew the barb about Snape had hurt.

"Oh, grow up," Hermione said, slamming her book down. She turned to Ron. "You are being ridiculous. Draco apologised, and for things he didn't even personally do, but that the people he associated with did. We don't take credit for our friends' achievements, so why should he have taken blame for their crimes? He didn't have to, but he did, and he was sincere. If you can't get past that, you're going to lose Harry as a friend." Draco was next under her gaze. "Stop being so difficult to get along with. If you're horrible all the time, we're never going to get to know the you that Harry knows, and this fighting will never stop, and that will make Harry miserable because he feels torn between you and us."

Harry was about to thank her when she caught him in her sights. "And you! Why are you moping around all the time? Isn't this what you wanted? I won't say I told you so about jumping in too quickly, but you're acting like you've been forced to do something, when in reality, you chose this! So embrace it or just... just stop!"

With eyes wide all around, Ron, Draco, and Harry all stared at Hermione, who huffed and went back to her homework.

Surprisingly, Draco was the first to speak. "Loath as I am to admit it, Granger..."

Hermione cleared her throat.

Draco's eye twitched. "Hermione is right. Ronald, I apologise for making your life more difficult on purpose. I shall endeavour to stop, as much as it may pain me. Harry, I'm sorry for putting you in that position."

"Yeah, Harry, I'm sorry, too. And you, too... Draco."

Harry couldn't help the grin the split his face. "And I'm sorry if I've been weird lately. I'll work on that."

The silence that followed was companionable for the first time ever.

"Can I talk to you?" Draco asked Harry some time later, his voice lowered.

"Of course. Do you want to take a walk?"

Draco nodded, rising. He helped Harry to his feet.

"We're going to walk for a bit. See you two at dinner."

Ron and Hermione waved them off, looking grateful to have their own time together.

"Let's go to the library. I wanted to check for this book comparing potions and alchemy."

"Sure." They walked without speaking, but finally, Harry had to ask. "Why aren't you coming to Hogsmeade?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know if you noticed, but my standing in Slytherin isn't exactly impressive at the moment. Hardly any of my old friends came back and the younger years aren't impressed with me, to say the least. And I'm certainly not going with your friends."

"Yeah, I did notice, Draco, thanks for thinking I've the observational skills of a niffler. And why wouldn't you come with us?"

"I just don't want to deal with the media, okay? Having them say that I'm using you three to get back in the Ministry's good graces or something stupid like that."

"If it was just you and me, would that make a difference?" Harry didn't exactly want to, but he hated to think of Draco alone while they went without him.

"Well, it wouldn't make a difference to the Daily Prophet, no, but it would make me more eager to go."

Harry bit his lip. "Next time, all right? I can't change my mind now and go with you, instead. But you could come with us. I promise it won't be as bad as you think it will, especially now that Hermione's got us all tucking tail."

"Don't worry about me. I always find ways to entertain myself."

With a heavy heart, Harry pulled open the library door and entered after Draco. Why couldn't he just say that it would mean a lot if Draco came with them? He was sure that if Draco knew how important it was, he would do it.

Harry followed Draco around, feeling rather like a puppy, while Draco scoured the shelves for his book.

"Damn," he muttered a few minutes later, looking defeated. "Stay here. I'm going to go ask Pince."

Hermione had been right, Harry thought as he scraped absently at the scarred wood of the shelf he was leaning against. Harry had wanted this, whether consciously or not. He hadn't been able to mean the rejection, so that meant some part of him knew that Draco was what he wanted. After all the time they'd spent together, Harry could no longer fool himself into thinking it was merely the idea of being with someone that shaped his feelings for Draco. Maybe at first. Definitely at first, really. But he'd gotten to know Draco too well to be able to say he couldn't love him.

What did he gain by continuing to hold back? That wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a relationship like Ron and Hermione's, where they could be affectionate in public, where they didn't fight all the time. He wanted everyone...not just Hogwarts...to know that Harry was with Draco. That Draco was his as much as he was Draco's. It really didn't seem too much to ask, in the grand scheme of things. Just a little love.

Love.

Harry hissed as a sliver slid beneath his thumbnail. He popped the tip of his finger into his mouth, the copper tang of his own blood making his nose twitch.

"Didn't you outgrow that like most normal wizards?" Draco's familiar, teasing drawl made Harry's mind up for him.

He'd only been hurting himself, pulling away from Draco, who hadn't even noticed. Why deny himself what he wanted because he was afraid Draco didn't? Draco was the veela. There was no separating the two. For all Draco referred to his 'veela side' and Harry blamed things on veela-ness, the two sides were inextricably linked. The veela loved Harry, so Draco must, too. Or would, eventually. But not if Harry didn't give him a chance.

Feeling like he'd finally shrugged the world from his shoulders, Harry grabbed Draco by the front of his robes and spun him around, pushing him against the shelf of books that lined the back wall of the library.

Without giving Draco a chance to recover, Harry slammed his mouth onto Draco's, merciless in his sudden need. Why had he pushed this away? They'd been intimate countless times since the first, but this was the first time Harry had taken the initiative, the first time Harry had ever kissed back harder than he was being kissed. He wanted to show Draco, with every swipe of his lips and tongue, that he meant this relationship. That maybe he'd messed it up for the past months, but things were different now. He'd make it up to Draco.

Draco seemed too surprised to respond at first, but Harry didn't care. He pressed the length of his body against Draco's, moaning when there was an answering hardness to his own.

Harry couldn't stop grabbing and touching: Draco's hips to bring them together, his arms, his neck, tangling in his hair. Draco was finally reacting, and it was almost as violent as Harry's first attack.

"God, yes, please..." Draco murmured against Harry's eager mouth.

Harry let Draco turn them so his back was against the shelves, and it wasn't entirely comfortable, but he easily made do with Draco's body pressing against his front.

Draco's mouth moved to Harry's neck, but Harry whispered, "No, kiss me." He didn't want this to be foreplay. He just wanted the kiss...his kiss, his first real kiss...to last forever.

With a somewhat puzzled look, Draco lowered his mouth to Harry's again. Like Harry, his hands were everywhere, as if he, too, knew how different this was than the other snogs they'd shared since the claiming.

Eventually, the flash-fire of the kiss turned to ember, enough to nourish and not destroy. Draco's hand on the back of Harry's neck guided the kiss how he wanted, and even though Harry'd started it, now he was content to let Draco do the ruling. He'd made his point.

"Where was this?" Draco asked, leaning his forehead against Harry's, his breath fast and warm against Harry's wet lips.

Harry just shook his head. He didn't want Draco to know the extent to which he'd been holding back. It hurt to think of the time wasted because he'd been afraid. It was unlike him. He was the fool that rushed in. Moderation wasn't in his nature.

"More," Harry said, encircling Draco's neck with his arms. His back arched off the wall, bringing them into even closer contact. A part of Harry...a very insistent part...wanted to just rut against Draco until he found completion, but this kiss... it was special. He knew he'd never forget it.

"This isn't going to go away, is it? This is what I've wanted. How do I keep it?" Draco looked so sincere, so insistent, that Harry hated himself for not giving in before.

"It's yours, just take it." From now on, I promise.

Then Draco's tongue was back in Harry's mouth, slow and searching, tasting and testing. Harry's fingers gripped Draco's hair in a way that had to be painful, and Draco might have objected if his own hand wasn't tugging at Harry's strands at the same time.

A startled gasp from behind Draco only just brought them back from the world more beautiful. With dazed eyes, Harry looked beyond Draco's shoulder to see a redheaded Hufflepuff girl staring at them with wide eyes.

Before he could come up with some half-arsed excuse, Draco hissed at the poor first year, and she let out a cry and tore off down the aisle, not looking back once.

"Hufflepuffs," Draco snapped, eyes blazing. But his anger was undermined by the redness of his kiss-swollen lips.

"We should go before she tells the older ones and they bring cameras and notepads."

"I wasn't finished with you," Draco whispered, the fire in his eyes heated by a different source.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry reassured him, knowing, maybe for the first time, that it was wholly true.