"WAR ORPHANS ENTERTAINED BY DEATH EATER! POTTER COMPLICIT?"
The title screamed at him from every Daily Prophet. Harry walked tiredly to the Great Hall that morning, followed by the familiar whispering of students. He sat next to Ron and Hermione who defiantly refused to read whatever rubbish the paper had published.
He still saw grainy Malfoy's face everywhere, an attractive smile on his face, bowing on the stage, followed by his mugshot from DMLE exhausted vacant eyes and withered complexion. The next picture made a flush creep upon his cheeks and neck - they were standing close together: the Slytherin smirking and taking a drag on his cigarette, Harry laughing at something and looking a bit smitten. The image was disturbingly honest, and he wanted to incinerate every single copy of it. The git was notably missing from the Slytherin table and Harry thanked Merlin from small mercies.
"At least the Wizarding Symphonic Orchestra had donated a lot of galleons to St. Barbara's," Luna waltzed from the Ravenclaw table and gave him a sympathetic smile. "My father interviewed the conductor and he was moved by Draco's performance.'
"Thank you, Luna," Harry said, "I was there only to see Teddy though."
"Oh, I know it's supposed to be a big secret," she whispered dramatically.
The whispers followed him all the way to the Potions class, Harry was glad to see that Ron had saved him a seat and was about to take out his ingredients when he heard Slughorn scolding somebody in the corridor.
"You should be going to the hospital wing... you will smear blood all over the place!"
"It is fine, professor... I can heal it myself." a familiar voice answered briskly and Malfoy walked into the classroom, his jaw clenched a deep cut and a bruise blooming under one eye, nose bleeding. He walked up to surprised Hermione and whispered something to her, she stood up from their table, scooping up her things, and moved towards the end of the classroom to sit next to him.
"What the hell, Mione..." Ron called incredulously.
"Ronald, I told you that I would be working on the Memory restoring elixir. Well, Malfoy is my partner on this project," she huffed and flicked a quick Episkey at Slytherin's sore face.
He curtly nodded at her, avoiding Ron's death glare.
"Everybody, settle down! It is time for you to pick out your N.E.W.T potion projects, Miss Granger here and Mr... Malfoy have already decided to work on a memory-related subject, an admirable goal. For the rest of you: the deadline is next week, you need to decide upon which potion you need to complete in the following two months. It must be a N.E.W.T. level and get at least an Acceptable for you to pass this course".
"Two months... Harry," the ginger complained, "My girlfriend will be fraternizing with the ferret for two months!"
"It's just a project," he shook his head.
The rest of the class Harry had spent pretending to look through potion books while musing about the nature of the Slytherin's injuries. The Malfoy of the past would make a big deal out of it and ensure that his father hears about this. But Lucius Malfoy was no more and Draco was way quieter and lonelier this year. Most of his former associates in exile or hiding. He wondered if the git had gotten into the fight with someone and was it because of that article.
"At least tell me that Ginny accidentally took the Elixir of Insanity and you don't fancy him," Ron asked after a while, glaring at the blonde.
"Ron... I'm begging you, don't start with this..." Harry exhaled tiredly.
"She is trying to be more considerate... But you've really hurt her. You need to sort it out, mate. She still thinks there might be some chance for her so that's why she's acting out. Trying to get your attention," his friend explained.
"So you're telling me that Ginny accusing me of fancying Malfoy is the sign that she wants to get back together?" he asked, confused.
"I am not supposed to make jokes like these anymore, but women am I right?" Ron gave him an apologetic smile.
* * *
Draco muttered an umpteenth Protego, trying to avoid a nasty trip jinx that would make him fall two flights of stairs if he weren't careful. The Hufflepuff that cast it screamed something derogatory but he wasn't listening. After the smear piece that was published by that rag, he was officially declared Hogwarts' pariah. People, who had ignored him before or would resort only to nasty glares, were hauling curses at his back for target practice. He was ambushed by a group of sneering sixth-year Gryffindors and was beaten up the muggle way.
In the way Draco knew that he deserved it, he was smearing the reputation of their precious Savior by breathing the same air in his vicinity, but he didn't expect it to be this brutally unfair. Because of the trace, he couldn't even send a curse back and that was the most humiliating part. So he would punch back, and get a more severe beating that would prompt him to go through Slughorn's potion supply cupboard in search of The Healing Salve and The Essence of Dittany and in the worst cases Blood Replenishing Potion that made him vomit green bile.
At least he was getting better at Healing Charms, Granger had slipped him a book with them the next time they worked together on their potion project. There was a note inside asking him to report it to McGonagall but Draco simply shook his head. What good would it bring, he was already a Death Eater scum, reporting would make him a snitch as well. He was grateful to Granger because he had something to talk about to his probation officer: Draco made a muggle-born friend.
He refused to do any more public events, giving the piano lessons at The Orphanage instead. Every weekend he would go to Saint Barbara's and spend his time going over simple scales and chords with the children. His unofficial fan club of girls following him like the lovesick female classmates would follow Potter.
Draco would meet with Andromeda, who volunteered at the library from time to time. She had even agreed to fake his mother's signature for the Painless Poppy Philtre he had to take after especially nasty rows with his ill-wishers. The potion was highly addictive but it left him feeling boneless and lightheaded and soon he would use it even when he wasn't in pain.
He had taken another vial of the Philtre to consume in the deserted courtyard when he noticed that the bench was already occupied. By the Weasley girl and Potter. They were laughing together, acting all cheerful, and it had made Draco's insides curl with hatred. If only that bint knew what he had known about her boyfriend's drunk escapades, and about their abysmal intimate life she wouldn't be smiling so happily.
Maybe he should have sold the story to papers, Draco thought about it darkly and then remembered how Potter had protected him countless times from being publicly ridiculed and his malicious thoughts were replaced by a desperate sort of longing. The one that made him ache and want to take more potions.
He needed to finish that Memory Elixir with Granger to know exactly whether the person he had fallen for was Potter, to give him some sort of closure and an excuse to continue hating the git.
Draco was about to leave for the dungeons when he heard Potter call his name. He was alone, Weasley must have left already.
"What do you want?" the blonde looked at him disdainfully.
"Hermione had told me you were being bullied! She has already spoken to the Gryffindor prefects but you should report the rest," he advised him.
"Tell me, Potter, would you report it?" Draco edged him on.
"Probably not..." the dark-haired lad mused, "but I am able to defend myself properly..."
"And you think I am not... Do you think I am some poor pansy that cannot hit the bastards back?!" he growled.
"I did not say that..." Potter replied lamely.
Draco turned away from the git and marched toward his favorite bench they had defiled, intending to take the potion and forget about everything. The Gryffindor followed, looking at him worryingly.
"Listen, Potter, I am about to take some drugs here, so how about you go chase your girlfriend and not harsh my mellow?" he laid down on the marble and emptied the vial in one swig.
"Can I... Can I have some too?" Potter asked quietly, not taking his gaze away from the glass.
"What? Firewhiskey is not strong enough for you anymore?" Draco smirked.
"Ginny made me quit... I have been going cold turkey for three weeks now," he admitted.
"Oh, the saving power of love," the Slytherin mocked, "Your precious Weasley wouldn't want a Death Eater like me corrupting you into doing some potions."
"Cut it out, Malfoy, do you have one more or not?" Potter was getting irritated.
"Catch!" Draco produced another vial and threw it up in the air, the git caught it with the Seeker's precision. He looked at it for a moment, shrugged his shoulders, and took a big sip.
"Mmm tastes not bad," was Potter's reaction.
"Now shut up, lie down and let it work its magic..." Draco said and moved a bit, freeing half of the bench for him.
He felt the crown of Potter's head touch his own and then there was finally blessed silence...
...The stars were spinning in the night sky and Draco felt pleasantly devoid of thoughts... his eyelids were heavy but he didn't want to sleep at all... He could hear even breathing next to him... the rustle of school robes when Potter was getting uncomfortable lying on hard marble... he git wriggled once again and then sat up, looking down at Draco... his eyes seemed glossy with big blown-out pupils...
"How are you feeling?" he uttered drowsily.
"I am... brilliant," Draco said slowly.
"Why did you kiss me back then?" Potter asked him... he didn't look like he was scandalized by it, just curious...
"Cause I felt like it" the Slytherin let out a short laugh.
"Can... can we do it again?"
"Do what?"
"Can I kiss you?" Potter's eyes were bright and honest and filled with some unknown emotion...
"Why?" the blonde murmured.
"Because I feel like it..." the Gryffindor said and leaned over to press his lips to Draco's chastely.
He pulled away slowly, studying his expression, worried that he had done something completely insane. Draco sat up quickly and recaptured his lips in a more demanding kiss. Unlike the other night, Potter did not try to push him away, he was kissing him back enthusiastically, his hands firmly resting on blonde's shoulders. It felt better than any potion known to wizardkind, his body was alight with arousal as their kissing became more heated. He wanted to ravish Potter, to make him forget whatever terrible experience he had before, he wanted to touch him and claim him and take him away from that stupid inexperienced insensitive girl...
Draco's fingers snuck under Potter's robes, gently caressing his back, traveling under his muggle jumper, touching hot skin there, making the goosebumps appear. He heard the Gryffindor moan his name, just like in that memory only now it was the real thing, he had real Draco touch him, not some muggle look-alike.
The thought of Potter wanting him even when he was with some random bloke, made him desperately hard, and Draco wished they were in a more secluded and preferably warmer place so they could do so much more than some teenage groping in the courtyard.
He felt Potter's palm dangerously close to his groin, moving up his thigh and leaving a trail of heat behind.
"Can I... touch you?" the Gryffindor asked shyly.
"Only if you let me do it too," Draco teased and was relieved when the other boy nodded.
He trailed kisses over Potter's neck, tasting tender skin there, feeling the frantic beating of his pulse. And then he decided to be cruel and bit harder at the sensitive place near the clavicle, leaving a mark. Let see how he explains that to the Weasley bint later.
The dark-haired boy gasped and started rubbing Draco's cock through his trousers more determinedly. It was too little friction and yet Draco felt his hips thrust upward into Potter's palm. Shortly the Gryfindor opened the zipper and slid a cold hand over his erection, making the blonde shiver and kiss him passionately. He was determined to do the same and soon they were both stroking each other, foreheads touching, hot breaths leaving the clouds of steam in the air.
Draco could look at Potter forever, his green eyes half-closed, thick dark eyelashes fluttering, cheek blushed and lips red and swollen from all the kissing. He was so beautiful so vulnerable, so open to pleasure. And Malfoy promised himself never to think of hurting him ever again. He saw Harry knot his eyebrows, close his eyes tightly shut, and let out a strained sob as he came all over Draco's fingers.
The brunette opened his eyes and looked at the Slytherin with so much emotion that it took just a few strokes to bring him over the edge as well. They looked at each other like for the first time and a small smile appeared on Potter's face.
"You're..."
"Don't say anything... just let it be..." Draco whispered and leaned down for one more kiss before the other boy realizes what they had just done and runs away.
He thanked all his Black ancestors for having similar signatures.
* * *
Harry held his breath and then exhaled, coughing, his throat scratching unpleasantly. He had earned himself a chuckle from Malfoy, long fingers stole the cigarette from his hand and the blonde took a drag, producing hoops of thick menthol-flavored smoke.
"I have corrupted you completely, haven't I?" the Slytherin mused, putting his head on Harry's shoulder and casting another warming charm over them.
Harry tried smoking for the first time. This was what one did after sex in all those muggle films he'd sneakily watched: the actors all smoked, lounging leisurely in bed. But they were in a chilly courtyard and whatever they'd done not everyone would even call sex. Still, somehow he felt giddy that he'd got to finally do it, have a cigarette after getting off.
"Potter?" the blonde asked him, "Why haven't you run away yet? You're not exactly the type to fool around with a bloke?"
"I just... I dunno. It's not nice, I guess... to leave just like that," Harry explained. He wasn't making much sense at the moment but he'd hoped Draco understood him. He remembered how Ginny would get upset with him when he got too nervous to sleep with her and storm off, leaving him naked and helpless and humiliated.
"Why did you take the potion?" Malfoy was relentless with his sudden interrogation, "For all you know, it could have been a poison."
"I wanted... I wanted to get to know you... to become your friend," the Gryffindor squeezed his hand gently. "It looked like you needed one..."
"You have a very convoluted definition of friendship, Potter," the Slytherin smirked.
"I guess..." Harry wasn't even sure what he wanted from him at the moment, "It is going to get weird, isn't it?"
"Oh yeah," Malfoy replied bitterly, "As soon as you come off the Philtre you will start to regret it big time. I suggest we both leave before it happens..."
"Alright..." the Gryffindor stood up, leaving the pleasant veil of the heating charm and looked back at the blonde. He was putting on his cold mask again, closing himself away and showing off his spikes. The cigarette they had shared was stubbed forcibly into the marble bench.
"Goodnight, Malfoy."
"Goodnight, Potter."