TW: Use of a homophobic slur.
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Draco watched as Potter's eyes widened, shock and
confusion taunt on his soft features. He really isn't that smart, is he?
"But- but I thought he was in Azkaban?" He sighed.
"You shouldn't be surprised, Chosen One. You were there when he was working with Voldemort. Plotting with the vile thing." Potter seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, before finally deciding on inching closer to Draco, putting his hand on his, and smiling valiantly.
I should've pulled away in horror, he thought, looking into the other boy's bright eyes. All he wanted to do was to close the gap between them, to selfishly claim Harry's lips for his own, but that thought was as good as a dead fantasy - kissing a straight boy. Besides, what would everyone else think? He pictured the newspaper titles, the looks of disgust being shot his way, the whispers filling the cold winter air.
He couldn't do that to Harry.
The other boy pulled away after what felt like an age, getting onto his feet and approaching the door hastily. He seemed eager to leave Draco. Before he could brush his fingers on the doorknob, the blond called out. "Did I do something wrong?" Potter snapped his head around, clearly surprised. "No, you didn't - why would you say that? I just have somewhere to be - you understand that right? Of course you do," he rambled, not making eye contact.
The door slammed loudly, and Draco wove his hands through his hair. He had been such a fool to think that Harry would ever kiss him. Harry fucking Potter. Saviour of Witches and Wizards. Model student with the perfect little girlfriend and perfect little face and perfect little everything. He would never date the son of a Death Eater. Never. Not in a million years. No matter how much Draco would stare and smile and write the other boy's initials with his swirly lettering, nothing would happen.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the door silently open and close.
"Hello? Hello? Listen to me, you fag!" The word snapped Draco back to reality. "What the hell do you want?" he muttered, too tired to argue with her. He looked up and mentally groaned. It was girl from before - Charlotte Berlaneè. He couldn't believe he didn't recognise her before - but he must of been too angry to notice her. Her hair seemed even more yellow this time, practically golden, and tumbling way past her slim shoulders. She blinked too much with those shiny blue eyes of hers, so her long lashes fluttered constantly. She would be pretty if it wasn't for the hideously venomous look on her face.
"I'll tell you what I want, you pompous Death Eater! I want you to leave Harry alone, we're practically dating and you're getting in the way," Charlotte exclaimed shrilly, tossing her long hair out of her face, "if - if I catch you getting too close to him again, I'll- I'll tell the whole school you're gay!" She said this all in one go, her chest heaving and her face red with anger. As if Draco had the energy for this. He could clearly see that she was making empty threats - she couldn't possibly tell the whole school - right?
"Yeah, whatever, do what you want with him - see if I care," Draco snarled, though he knew he cared terribly. What a bitch. Seemingly satisfied, Charlotte flounced out of the room, her too-short skirt rustling as she swept away. Madame Pomfrey burst in shortly after, worry written all over her dear face. "I could hear shouting! Has someone been in here? Where's Harry?" The blond sighed irritably, clutching the bed sheets tightly. "Nothing happened, Poppy.
Everything's fine. I just," he struggled slightly, "accidentally banged my head against the headboard."
Silly me." She raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. But she didn't pry. Sighing, Poppy turned and walked to the door of the hospital wing, briskly attending to a first year with a spouting nosebleed. Draco leaned back into his bed, imagining a short boy with untidy jet black hair and brilliant green eyes. The boy smiled at him, and the blond smiled back.
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Poppy was unsurprisingly against the idea of Draco leaving the hospital wing so soon, and complained bitterly when he tried to slip out of his hospital bed, saying that he might fall over if he's not careful, and that he must not try to do anything too drastic. In the end, she ended up letting him leave, admittedly with a few anxious mumbles. Draco had a couple of hours before classes properly started, so he sloped around the dormitories, occasionally waking up a disgruntled painting.
It seemed as if it was just him and the empty bedrooms, but Draco swore he could hear shallow breathing and muffled shuffling at the far end of the room. Peering over curiously, the blond spotted a head of ruffled jet black hair poking out from the other side of the dormitory. Harry stared back at him, and, surprisingly, shyly beckoned him to take a seat on the bed, right next to him. The blond gingerly sat next to Harry, face flushing in the dark. There were a few moments of awkward silence as the two sat quite still, and the room suddenly felt too hot.
Harry broke the silence.
"I'm- I'm sorry. For leaving you alone in the hospital wing. I don't know what came over me, I really don't-" Draco placed his hand over Potter's, smiling gently. The dark haired boy was staring at his lips, and it was becoming increasingly difficult for Draco not to take him right there and then. Harry seemed to be getting closer and closer every time the blond blinked, and then their lips were connected, and Malfoy wove his hands in the thick mass of lightly curled hair, the other boy letting out a soft moan as Draco pulled it gently, running his fingers down Harry's neck.
The kiss was careful and shy at first, but, with years of pent up sexual tension, nothing can stay innocent for long - especially when the person you've been fantasising about is at your complete mercy. Draco trailed his lips across Harry's neck, pressing small kisses along his sensitive spots, and pushing his hands up his school shirt.
Suddenly the other boy pulled away, green eyes still dark with lust.
"I don't- I should- I should leave. I can't.." he took several steps back, shaking his head wildly and staring at Draco with a horrifyingly unreadable face. Harry left the room hurriedly, practically running.
What had just happened?
And why had he loved it so much?
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This chapter isn't as late as I thought it would be, which is a great relief.
-R🧚
YOU ARE READING
I kissed a boy (drarry)
FanfictionDISCLAIMER: I kind of don't like this fic, so read at your own risk 😭 --------- Harry Potter was a saint - or at least that's what it looked like. Nothing he did was ever remotely wrong or laced with bad intentions. Everyone said it, the image of p...
