Genre: Angst, Romance Rating: NC-17 Word count: 186k Tags: War time, Friends to Lover, Powerful!Harry
Summary:
Things are heating up with the Order, and Harry is growing in power. Harry starts a dangerous romance with Malfoy just so he can feel like a "real" teenage boy.
Quotes:
Neither of them knew how long they fought before they simply lay on the ground, gasping deep the cold winter air into heaving chests that burned with each breath. They were worn out and covered with blood and bruises. Harry's nose had been bleeding, but it seemed to have stopped now. He wiped some of the clotted blood away and laughed. He felt... relieved, like all of his stress was washed away in the fight. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt so calm.
"What are you laughing at?" asked Malfoy, lying next to him.
"I don't know. My nose was bleeding and I thought it was funny." He looked over at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes. But then he started to laugh too.
They lay there for a few minutes laughing. Then Harry pulled himself into a sitting position. His whole torso hurt. "You okay, Malfoy?"
"Yeah, I think so," he said, pulling himself up. "You?"
"Yeah." Harry looked down and noticed that his robe was torn in three places. He looked back to Malfoy to tell him this, but only saw the blood on his face. Malfoy was trying to wipe blood out of his eye. A gash in his forehead was still bleeding pretty heavily. "Man, are you sure you're okay?" said Harry, alarmed.
"It was bleeding off to the side when I was laying down. I thought it had stopped, actually. It's really burning my eye."
Harry ripped off a section of the sleeve of his robe, and wadded it up.
"What are you doing? You'll ruin it!"
"Oh hell, Malfoy. It's already ruined." Harry smirked at him. "You have to put pressure on it, or it will keep bleeding."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's something muggles do when they bleed." He handed Malfoy the wad of cloth. "If you press this against your cut, the blood will clot faster." Malfoy looked at him blankly. "It'll stop bleeding. That way you won't have to go to McGonagall and tell her we've been fighting and you need to go the infirmary to be healed with magic."
"Okay," said Malfoy, unconvinced. He pushed the cloth against his forehead. "Regardless, though, I need both hands to pick up this confetti, so I might as well go in for extra punishment and get to the infirmary."
"No you don't," said Harry. He tore a longer strip of his robe, and tied it around Malfoy's head, holding the wad of cloth firmly in place.
"Potter! That's ingenious. Where do you come up with these things?"
Harry just laughed and stood up. "Come on, we'd best get started then." He offered Malfoy a hand up. They grabbed a couple of garbage bags and started to pick up the confetti.
"I don't get it," said Malfoy, after awhile.
"What?"
"In six years we've done nothing but fight, and now suddenly, I don't hate you anymore."
Harry laughed. "Me neither. Weird, huh?"
"No, I mean, really. What's going on?"
"Well, I've seen in muggle movies that sometimes guys have to fight to become friends. I don't really get it either."
They continued their conversation as they cleaned for the next six hours. They talked about their classes and Quidditch, about girls they liked and teachers they hated. As they walked to Professor McGonagall's office, Malfoy said, "You know Potter, you're not that bad."
"Neither are you."
Professor McGonagall's eyes widened in horror and fury when she saw the state of the two sixth years at her door. "Have you two been fighting?!" she demanded.
They shook their heads.
"No, I fell," said Harry.
"Me too."
They were both shaking with the laughter they were holding in. Professor McGonagall stared at them, dumbfounded. She handed them their wands back, and said, "Mr. Malfoy, you need to report to the infirmary to take care of that cut on your forehead. Mr. Potter, you may return to your room."
"Thank you and good night," said Harry with a smile. He and Malfoy broke into laughter as they turned and walked down the hall.
At the end of the hall, they turned off in separate directions.
"Later, Potter."
"Later, Malfoy."
Professor McGonagall's jaw dropped as she looked after them down the hall. "For the love of Merlin, what is happening here?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
