Chapter 2
The first thing Harry did when he came back to school was to get a girlfriend.
He quickly chose Lisa Turpin - a Hufflepuff who also returned for eighth year. She was more than willing to go out with him. It was going well, at first, but after two weeks, Lisa realised that Harry would not likely do anything else than snogging her, so she broke it off.
Harry was only too relieved to not have to do it on his own, because to be honest, Lisa was just too nice and sweet for his taste.
Noelle Heron was his next choice. After apologising for the ball and spending some effort to convince her to give it another try, Noelle finally agreed, only for Harry to abandon her on a date again five days later. He liked making out, of course, but making out with him in public just to get as much attention as possible?
That was a big hell no.
After that was Janice Hart, who he dated for a few days. After Janice was Violet Elton, after Violet was Anastasia Bloom… No one lasted for more than three dates. The latter lasted shorter than the previous. For some reason, Harry always found something about them that irked him. The snogging was not that good either, there was something off when he did it with these girls.
They did not stir him as much as the kiss with someone that Harry would not name out loud.
His constant failures had somewhat shaken his confidence, while some others might find it very entertaining, such as his friends. Aside from Hermione ‘Are you sure you’re alright, Harry?’, Ron’s greeting to him now was something along the line ‘What exactly are you trying to prove, mate?’. Whereas Dean and Seamus started a whole business on betting on Harry’s love life, like who he would date next, how long this one would last, or which reason Harry would come up with to break up with her. Ginny and her new girlfriend Luna were the golden investors of this business.
So it came as no surprise when Seamus asked him one evening in early February. “Oi Harry, who will be your Valentine this year? Fancy giving us some hints?”
‘Us’ turned out to be more people than Harry had thought. “Really, you two too?” He asked his two best friends.
Ron merely grinned. “It’s fun mate. Last week I made four galleons and six sickles after you dumped Bloom on your second date.”
“You all are impossible.”
“Don’t get mad. If you tell me who you’re going with on the fourteenth, I’ll split money with you when I win the stupid bet.”
“You call it stupid Ron–” Ginny chimed in cheerfully. “–but it has fifty galleons in it!”
“What? Fifty galleons?”
“It’s the day of love. The bet must be bigger than usual.”
“Whatever. But what if no one gets it right?”
“The money will go to SPEW of course.” Hermione said. “That’s the only reason I agree to join this in the first place.”
“You heard that mate. Don’t let us donate money to house-elves.”
“Hmmm, I’ll see about that.”
In the end, he did not take anyone on a date when Valentines arrived. Just stayed in the dorm, doing nothing until suddenly struck by an urge to finish all of his homework. The inspiration lasted for more than an hour, before being interrupted by Malfoy barging into the room, looking frustrated.
“Fuck this day. Fuck Valentines. Disgusting couples…everywhere… People… going mad with hormones...” He slammed the door and appeared to be in one of his own rants, paying no attention to Harry’s presence.
“Hello Malfoy!”
A yelp escaped, followed by another curse. “Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck are you doing here Potter?”
“This is my room.”
“I know.” Malfoy growled. “That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Mustn’t you be on some sort of disgusting Valentine’s date right now?”
Harry pointed at the pile of books on his bed. “Nah, I think I’d better do my homework today. I’m behind on quite a lot of things.”
“Eugh, thanks a lot for losing me five galleons.”
“What on earth are you on about?”
“Finnigan’s bet.” He said curtly, as if it explained everything. Well, it did, in a way.
“What did you bet on then?”
“Does not matter.”
Malfoy huffed and walked to his bed, appearing to go back to ignoring Harry. He had done it ever since they returned from the break and Harry started his dating string. Today was the first time they spoke to each other for more than two sentences without any insults, aside from the letters at Christmas. It was totally unexpected, given all the jibes, and vague threats Malfoy had proposed in the written form.
Harry supposed he should be thankful, having his dorm mate pretend nothing out of the ordinary happened between them, except for the fact that it kept him on constant alert. After all, Malfoy was a Slytherin, he probably was scheming for a payback and waiting for the moment Harry least predicted.
Like right now.
Harry almost jumped off the bed when Malfoy threw himself on the pillow next to him. “What’s the fuck, Malfoy!!!”
Malfoy turned on one side leisurely, propped himself up by one elbow, faced Harry with a smirk. “I just have an idea.”
“I don’t care! Get off my bed!!!”
But Malfoy only looked at him calmly, calculatingly, as a predator eyed his prey. “You don’t have a girlfriend now, so why don’t you give us a snog?”
A hundred things flickered through Harry’s heads after that sentence that it prompted to shut down his brain for good. He blinked, and blinked, waiting for the other to admit that this was nothing but a joke. When no such thing came, he blinked some more and settled with a choke “What?”
“You heard me. Come on Potter, it’s Valentine’s, give me a Valentine’s kiss.”
Harry provided no response to that, which somehow made Malfoy think he had got his consent and lunged forwards. He got Harry by the shoulders and took advantage of Harry’s numbness to pin him down onto the mattress. Within seconds, Harry found his whole body trapped by the Slytherin, in the most compromising position.
“Malfoy!”
“Come on, we did it before. It’s no big deal.”
“No!” Harry yelled and dodged just in time when Malfoy attempted to bring their lips together. He was surprisingly strong, holding Harry down in place, but Harry was not weak either. Using all his force, he managed to push Malfoy off a little, tried to escape when Malfoy swung forwards again. Before he knew it, they were wrestling.
Were this any normal boy vs boy wrestling, Harry would have been overwhelmingly proud when his rival was now pressed down hard on the floor. But it wasn’t. Not when it was not the floor but the bed and especially not when his rival looked absolutely satisfied when being sat on by Harry. Because that was when Malfoy could easily hook his legs behind his knees and throw his arms around his neck.
By the time Harry realised that it was a trap, he was already in it with Malfoy’s face only a breath away.
“Kiss me, Potter.” The order felt like an alluring whisper at a close proximity.
“No!”
“Please…”
“Never!”
“Potter… please…”
“Harry…”
“Harry… please…”
All Harry wanted to do was to shut the boy off, really, never wanting to please his wish. Nope. Not at all. But if the only way for Malfoy to do it was to kiss him, then be it.
And if the only way for Malfoy to stop his annoying pathetic pleading was to kiss him a little longer, then be it.
And if the only way for Malfoy to never accuse him of being an unenthusiastic kisser and ask for another one was to become an enthusiastic kisser, then be it.
And if the only way for Malfoy to know that he was being given a privilege of lifetime, that he’d better worshipped Harry for being so kind, so benevolent after everything that had happened, was to give him such a fantastic mind-blowing snog that he could never accuse Harry of being bad kisser, that he would remember for the rest of his life, that he would not be able to kiss anyone else without recalling what it was like to have Harry Potter’s lip tasting him, to have Harry Potter’s tongue devouring him, then be it.
Harry was wrong.
In the middle of the night, while the lingering sensation from the afternoon refused to let Harry get his rest, the familiar shadow approached his bed in silence. It had not happened again since Christmas, or ever before now for that matter, as this shadow was fully awake.
It even carried a pillow, slid in his cover, lay down beside him as if this was the plan all along.
The shadow turned to him slowly, grey eyes burning in the dark. “I want another snog, Harry.”
Even he was amazed at how calm he was holding himself. “That’s what a boyfriend is for. Find one yourself.”
“There’s no other gay boy at Hogwarts.”
“I highly doubt that. You just have to look.”
“Even if there’s one, they wouldn’t want to be with me.”
“I don’t want to be with you.”
“That’s alright. I just need you to snog me.”
“I’m not gay!”
“But you like kissing me. More than you do with all of your girlfriends.”
“I. Do. Not.”
“Harry, you do. But it may just mean I’m just a terrific kisser and you like kissing someone with terrific skill.”
“I’ve had better.”
“Does not mean I’m not excellent. Don’t worry, I think you’re excellent too. I don’t get hard for no reason, you know.”
“That’s it Malfoy! Get out!”
“Don’t get mad. You get hard when we kiss too. Oh, don’t get offended. What if I suck you off in exchange for your kiss?”
“What’s the fuck, Malfoy? I’m not gay, you sick bastard!”
“Well, I am. That’s why I’m the one who do the sucking. And only want a simple kiss in return.”
“You’re not going anywhere near my cock!”
“You’re really turning down a blowjob? Really? Have you got one before? Because it’s impossible to refuse such a chance. I mean, a mouth is still a mouth, right?”
“Of course I had one before! Hey, stop touching me down there! No, Malfoy, stop it! Fine, come back here so I can snog your stupid face off.”
“Really. Oh, thank you Harry. Can I lie on top of you this time?”
“Whatever. Just stay away from my dick. And this will be the last time, got it?”
“Hmmm…”
But after two hours of passionate snogging session, well into the early morning, sleeping soundly with Malfoy’s blonde head buried in his neck, it never crossed Harry’s mind that the Slytherin never answered the question.
It was not the last time, Harry did not know how he could think otherwise.
In fact, ever since Valentines, Draco had readily moved to Harry’s bed for good. Every night, they would snog and fall asleep together. It never crossed the line of snogging, but once or thirteenth times, things got so intense that Harry had to escape to the bathroom to get off afterwards, while Draco did it right after Harry left. They were both aware of that, but none suggested any other way.
Harry did not dare, while Draco probably just waited for Harry to dare.
They kissed outside the bedtime too, but never with any audience in sight. Before they left the room for the day, after a Quidditch practice in the privacy of the changing room, in the corner of the library when there was nobody around, or simply whenever Draco declared he needed a kiss. Harry sometimes needed a kiss too. He never said it out loud, but it seemed that Draco could always tell and just kiss him instead of asking like he normally did. Not that Harry complained about it.
With all the kissing available, his dating business was put on hold. This had raised the suspicion among his friends, causing another round of bets for the reason behind the sudden halt. No one came close to the real reason though, and Harry was not stupid enough to tell them.
“I’m just tired of dating without going anywhere.” He had said. “My next girlfriend needs to be the person I at least have some future with.”
“In that case, you should really try going out with Greg’s cousin. The one I told you before, remember?”
Just to get them off his back for a while, Harry had agreed. He would see Melody Goyle as they wanted (along with opening new possibilities for bets), while still maintaining his routine in the bedroom. Draco never said anything about it, carried on as usual, only commented one time after a month into Harry’s new relationship.
“You have a solid girlfriend now, don’t you think this is cheating on her?”
“This is just like a hobby, isn’t it? Like people read books or listen to music in their free time, whereas we do it. I’m not going to leave Mel for you. If I eventually leave her, it will not be because of what we’re doing.”
“It’s not the same and you know it, Harry.”
“Whatever. So, do you want to stop then?”
“I– No.”
“Good then. Now come here, the bed's getting cold.”
Draco did stop though.
When he returned to the room one day and saw Melody on Harry’s bed, lying naked in his arms. She did not even bother to cover up her breast when seeing Draco, already knew the man was gay. Draco had turned away coldly when Melody friendly greeted him and had not been back to the dorm that night.
The next day, he acted as if nothing happened, only that he did not come over Harry’s bed.
Nor any other day after that.
Harry did miss having somebody lying next to him at night, and to some extent, he did miss kissing Draco. But he would rather die than admit it out loud. He hinted though. Whether Draco did not get it, or he simply played dumb, it had gone back to before - with Draco pretending like Harry did not exist at all.
Just when Harry decided he should move on, that all of this pining was nonsense - he had a girlfriend for Merlin’s sake, who was beautiful, funny, had a hot body, played Quidditch like a pro and did not worship the ground he walked on, who he did have a future with, who he should know better than brooding for another man after her back - Draco came to his bed one summer night.
“It’s my birthday.” His whisper was so soft that it was almost a breath.
“It is? Oh, happy birthday to you. I wish you–”
“I want a birthday kiss.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, come here then. You can lie on top of me if you want. And stay here for the night.”
Draco did lie on top of him. And he did stay the night. But the next morning, he was gone before Harry woke up.
And he never came back.