Chapter Three: Insecurities

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--Harry's POV--

Sometimes I caught Malfoy looking sad when he thought I wasn't looking. It made me feel like I failed as a friend when I saw him sad. And then I would get the urge to go hug him. He was like chocolate, you have one bite and you have to have more. Not that I bit him. That would be weird. I didn't exactly know what I was feeling. Maybe it was just pity, but it felt as if every time he had that sad, depressed look on his face, I felt like I needed to touch him, make him feel better. Draco didn't seem to mind if I hugged him or made tiny braids in his hair. He'd just stop talking and get a small smile on his face. 

Later that night, I found a book labeled, "The Tales Of Beedle The Bard".

"What is this?" I asked curiously. "It looks familiar, but I don't think I've ever read it before."

Draco stared. "No way. There is no way the great Harry Potter has never read Beedle's tales. They're only the best stories ever written! I have an idea. Why don't I read them to you while you lean back and enjoy the amazing food in here!"

"Er, all right. Why not?"

Some of the tales seemed pretty gruesome. Like the one where the warlock had that hairy heart and then cut out the maiden's...creepy. However, it was nice to hear his voice.

After he finished the book, I was feeling very brave and daring, like Sir Luckless, a knight in one of the tales.

"Draco," I started.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Have you ever been kissed before?" He doubled up in laughter, sides heaving.

"Me? Who would want to kiss...Me?!"

I finally realized what the emotion was. It was feelings, like...feelings feelings.  My heart sped up.

"I would," I whispered.

He stared at me, his eyes distrustful. However, I could see the like in his eyes. It hurt to know that he didn't trust me, but still liked me for who I was.

He finally leaned in, his breath fast and shallow. My eyes kept darting from his silver pools to his pale rose lips. I cupped his cheek in my hand and pressed my lips against his.

It was wonderful, frightening, and soft all at the same time. After a while, I pulled out of the kiss. My lips already felt cold and empty without his pressing lightly on mine.

"This is my first kiss, too, Draco. I wanted to do this because when some pretty girl comes along and kisses you, she'll eventually move on. You won't. She would have stolen your first kiss. I kissed you because I love you. In a short amount of time, I have realized that you have changed for the waaaay better. Even if I don't love you like a boyfriend (at least not yet), I still love you as a friend and as family."

By this time, Draco had broken down and started crying. Oh, shit, I thought. Now I'VE stolen his first kiss.

"C-could we do that again?" He pleaded. Relief, warm relief, passed through me like melted chocolate. I was so happy he wasn't upset. I think I was a little too happy because I practically jumped on him. Oops. He squeaked like a kitten and somehow I found that sexy. I smashed my mouth on his, then--oh, darn. He wasn't kissing back. I practically leapt off him.

"Oh my God, Draco, I am so sorry!"

He frowned. "I guess, for my lips' sake I can forgive you," he said. His eyes were shining like. He was amused. I guess I was, too.

I tried again. I gently placed my lips on Draco's. They were so sweet, if just his lips were like this I couldn't imagine what the rest of his body--shut up, Harry!

I couldn't resist. We tried again, but just awkwardly bumped into each other. We laughed nervously and kept at it, unsure of who would take control. I gave up, figuring that since I kissed him, he should get to have a bit of fun. And boy, was he good. I moaned at the feeling of his hand creeping up my hair, then blushed. I did the only respectable thing a Gryffindor would do: I put my hand in his hair and kissed harder. He leaned back so we fell into the bed.

We both knew we would stay kissing, and not do anything more. For now. Okay, so his hands ran up my shirt, but hey, I started it.

As soon as they did, I knew that I no longer hated him. I like-slash-loved him.

As we leaned in again, there was a knock at the door.

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