Tempus Fugit DRARRY

Chapter 3: Amnesia Amongst Company

"You've just been distant," Ron said with a troubled expression, "like you do after you've had a row." Harry privately wondered how argumentative a pair they were, if everyone seemed so concerned about the state of their relationship.

"Don't be silly," said Harry at once, "of course we haven't."

"Well has something happened then?" Ron persisted, "only there is definitely something different about the way you two have been behaving towards each other. I mean usually you'd be all over each other after a night out like this, but you've hardly spoken two words."

"There's nothing wrong," Harry insisted, "is there Draco?"

"No," Draco replied immediately, "of course not." As if to confirm this, he slung one arm around Harry's neck and rested his head against him. It was a tentative gesture, but one that Harry welcomed, if only for the purpose of assuaging Ron's concerns.

Ron did not look convinced, but turned away after a moment to listen to something Lavender said.

"Are we really that obvious?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Yeah, I'd say so," said Draco.

"What should we do?" replied Harry, looking over to where Hermione and Sean were laughing together, their hands on each other's knees, stolen glances passing between them.

"I'm sure you can think of something," Draco said with a smirk replacing his frown. Harry was taken aback for a moment as he realised what Draco was suggesting. "I don't like this, Potter," Draco said honestly, with an edge of bitterness, "mainly because I don't like you. But I am more than keen to avoid yet further explanations and embarrassment."

Harry sighed, "I don't think Hermione really trusts anybody here," he said, "or she wouldn't be so reluctant about having us tell them who we really are."

"I, for one, am inclined to trust her instincts," Draco said quickly, "especially if it narrows down the chance of Death Eaters finding out about our now-feeble magical ability."

With an unpleasant sense of aversion, and well aware that Ron kept casting him anxious glances, Harry laid one hand hesitantly on Draco's thigh. The blond looked surprised for a fleeting moment, before responding flawlessly by nestling their faces together and running his tongue the length of Harry's jaw.

Draco was a great actor, with the acquired knack of making every action look spontaneous and enjoyable. His hand was tightening around Harry's shoulders, exerting a perfect pressure that made Harry's body respond of its own accord.

Harry became rigid with the sensations bombarding him from all directions. The indescribable, searing feeling of such intimacy was making him feel warm all over, and he was torn in two by conflicting emotions.

His hand was moving of its own accord. It was trailing up Draco's torso, slowly massaging the young man's muscles, and feeling involuntary jolts of pleasure run through him beneath Harry's touch. His tongue was leaving Harry's throat and he was moving his mouth up to meet the Gryffindor's, both of them closing their eyes, enveloping themselves in darkness. There was a moment of sheer, blinding heat as their lips duelled in another torrid kiss that stole the breath from their lungs and all reason from their minds.

As they parted, they looked at each other.

"That might have done the trick," Harry gasped into a whisper. Draco half-smiled, his deep grey eyes soulful and fathomless. There was an explosive shout of laughter from the other end of the room which drew their attention. Seamus was pouring himself a third glass of wine and telling jokes to Lavender, Sean and Hermione ,who were all seated around him, listening intently.