The Potter Problem (Drarry)

Chapter 8

The kiss was over as soon as it had started. Harry had been shocked, too shocked to even move before Draco's precious lips were off of his. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the silvery blue ones he had come to love staring back at him, but they weren't there. The bathroom was empty, Draco was gone.

Harry raised his hand to his lips, gingerly brushing his fingertips against them. Fireworks had exploded the minute their lips touched, surprising and scaring both boys. The same electricity they felt whenever their skin met, but magnified millions of times, to the point of losing them both in the heat of the kiss.

The dark haired boy ran a hand through his hair, walking up to the mirror. The kiss had lasted maybe a second, but had completely changed him. His green eyes shone, happiness buried in their depths. His shirt was wrinkled, his swollen lips tugged up at the corners as he thought about Draco. But where was he? Harry looked around their room, but the blond wasn't there. Harry sat on his bed, a thought suddenly striking him.

Draco regretted the kiss.

He didn't want to believe it, but all of the signs were there. How short the kiss was, him boltig straight away. He couldn't believe Draco would do it, but Harry knew Malfoy would. He realised Ron had been right, Malfoy had been playing him the whole time. He had Harry wrapped around his finger, like a pathetic little puppy, following him with wide eyes. Harry couldn't believe he had been so stupid, Malfoy was probably off telling his friends just how dumb the golden boy really is.

He cried. He set his head in his hands and sobbed. He had liked Malfoy, but the worst part was, he still did, probably more than before.

Draco didn't return that night, and Harry fell asleep with tear streaks down his face, a crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. It held the footsteps of every person at Hogwarts, and Malfoy was with Parkinson.

           *           *           *

Pansy Parkinson valued her sleep, almost as much as she valued her Slytherin pride. So when at 11 P.M. she was woken by a furious pounding on her door, she was not happy. Walking over, she swung open the door, glaring at Draco as he stood there, sweaty and disheveled outside her door. He pushed past her, walking over to sit on her bed and pull his legs up to his chest, something he did when he was upset. Pansy rolled her eyes, shutting the door and sitting across from the blond.

"What the hell do you want, Draco?" Draco mumbled something incoherently into his knees, and pansy looked at him in confusion. "Draco I can't bloody hear you speak up." He lifted his chin, setting it on top of his knees, before speaking.

" I kissed Harry." Pansy stated at him with wide eyes. She had known he liked the gryffindor, but had doubted it would be Draco who made the first move.

"And?" She quirked an eyebrow, curious.

"I loved it." Pansy was still confused.

"If it was so amazing then why the fuck are you here instead of with him?"

Draco sighed, "I ran out. He's going to hate me, Pansy! I kissed him!"

"I thought you said it went well?"

"I said I loved it." Draco snapped harshly, before softening. "It only lasted for a second, if that. He wasn't kissing back, so I ran." He confessed, sadness overcoming him. "I ruined everything." He buried his face in his knees, ashamed. Pansy thought for a moment before she spoke.

"How long did you give him to kiss back?"

"I don't know, I ran as soon as I realised he wasn't." He shrugged, face still hidden.