“That’s another ten points for the Harpies!” the announcer shouted. Harry’s team was winning by thirty points.
Ginny had played well but was hit by the bludger an hour into the game. Though she didn’t seem seriously injured, she had been taken to hospital to be on the safe side.
“I hope Gin’s all right. But I have a feeling you’ll be paying for those drinks,” Harry said. “The Harpies are on fire.”
“Nah, I think Quigley is just warming up. Actually, I think he’s quite hot,” Draco laughed.
“Yeah,” Harry agreed enthusiastically, forgetting himself as he watched the players flying around the pitch.
Draco’s head whipped around. Did he hear Harry correctly? Perhaps Harry misheard him. At that moment, the Harpies scored again and Harry cheered wildly, unaware that Draco was watching him.
The stands grew quieter, and Draco saw an opportunity for conversation.
“So, you never did tell me how your date went last weekend.” After what Harry just said, he wanted to test if it was simply a case of misunderstanding, or if Harry really did think Finbar Quigley was hot. The latter would prove an interesting twist if true. There were little things here and there that Harry did or said that made Draco sometimes imagine he could be bent. But never anything so blatant as calling another man hot.
“It was okay,” Harry had to raise his voice a little over the crowd.
“Don’t get me wrong, Althea’s very nice, a lot like Hermione. Maybe too much like Hermione. I liked her, though,” Harry shrugged.
“But not romantically?” Draco queried. “I guess she didn’t have enough of those required qualities you’re looking for.”
“You make it sound as though I have a check list to complete. As a matter of fact, she did possess a lot of those qualities. I usually go for someone less conservative, more laid back, though,” Harry answered.
“Ah. Does that translate into easy?” Draco teased.
“Are you suggesting I shag on a first date?”
Harry laughed at Draco’s directness. He liked it. “I’d have to say that depends on how the date went.”
“Then I take it you didn’t shag this Althea.”
Harry subconsciously made a face.
Draco was beginning to think he wasn’t going to be able to get the information out of Harry he was looking for.
Out of the blue, Harry volunteered. “Although, going out with Althea made me realize something. I’d rather find a real relationship than shag virtual strangers anyway.” Harry’s countenance became pensive. “Someone who knows me, you know. Not as some silly hero figure, but me, with all my many imperfections. And he loves me anyway,” he said, distracted by the game.
Before Draco’s jaw could drop, or Harry could realize what he’d just said, the Bats’ seeker caught the snitch and the crowd roared to life. Even though it wasn’t his team, Harry stood with everyone and cheered. It was a spectacular catch. Draco appeared to be the only fan who had not risen from his seat. He simply watched Harry.
That time, he distinctly heard him say ‘he’, when referring to his future love. Suddenly, the improbable seemed possible. If only he could find a way into the Gryffindor’s lonely heart.
“Looks like supper’s on me.” Even though he lost the bet, Harry was in good spirits. The game had energized him, and it had been announced that Ginny was not seriously injured and would play in the next match.
“I’m disappointed we didn’t get to meet the players like Ginny offered, but I’m glad she’s all right. I’ll have to send her a get well note. Would you mind if we stopped at an owlry before we eat?”
Still preoccupied by Harry’s subconscious confession, Draco simply nodded his approval.
After sending off the note, the two men decided to go once again to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry also managed to persuade Draco to stop at a sweet shop on the way. The blond himself didn’t have a sweet tooth, but Harry had a craving for chocoballs.
They sat in the same corner booth from their first pub night. Harry went on and on about the match, while Draco listened and watched.
“You know, in a way, I’m glad I lost our bet,” Harry said, then took a drink of lager.
“Well, I don’t have season Quidditch tickets so I can’t reciprocate. At least I can treat you to supper.” Harry liked the idea of taking Draco out, even if it was only in his mind. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to get away from the castle until we arrived at the match.”
“Yes, it seemed to be a particularly exhausting week. I imagine next week will be worse, what with the Halloween Ball coming up.”
Harry nodded in agreement.
Draco asked, “So, what sort of costume are you wearing to the Halloween dance?”
“What? Professors are expected to dress up?”
“Don’t look in such a panic,” Draco laughed. “Don’t you like to dress up?”
“I wanted to as a child, but not as a grown man,” Harry explained. “Why, do you?”
Draco grinned. “It’s sort of fun, isn’t it? Hiding your identity, wearing a mask? Of course, as professors, we’ll need to be fairly easy to spot, in case a student needs us.”
Wearing a mask. The phrase reminded Harry of Trelawney’s reading. He figured he was already in disguise.
“I haven’t given it any thought,” Harry said. “I only have a week to come up with a costume. How are you dressing up?”
“I’m considering going as a vampire,” Draco told him. “All I need is a black cape and a potion to grow temporary fangs.
“Oh, that’s pretty simple,” Harry frowned. “I’ll have to come up with something simple like that.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you borrow my idea,” Draco smirked. He personally thought vampires were very sensual and he wouldn’t mind seeing Harry dressed that way. “If you promise not to bite.” He chanced a not-so-subtle innuendo.
Hiding behind his tall glass, Harry muttered something about coming up with some idea. He downed the rest of his beer, the thought of biting Draco now stuck in his head.
The pair strolled through the gate, reset the wards and made their way into the castle. It was a bit chilly outside, but Harry felt oddly warm. The evening was perfectly lovely. The Quidditch match was brilliant, conversation flowed smoothly, the food was enjoyable and the company was charming. It was the best date Harry had ever been on.
Too bad it wasn’t actually a date.
But if it had been, the part where he got to kiss his date was getting close. The butterflies were churning as he walked up the staircase next to Draco. Harry’s quarters were coming up first and he was trying to think of an excuse to invite him inside.
They stood on the landing outside Harry’s door.
“Well, at least I don’t have to practically carry you into your chambers this time,” Draco chuckled awkwardly.
“Right. Completely sober this time,” Harry replied, equally awkward.
“Um, I’ve got some fire whiskey or Sherry if you’re interested in a nightcap,” Draco offered.
Harry was quick to answer, “All right.” He didn’t want the evening to end, even if it was all in his head. They continued up to the sixth floor.
Opening the door, Draco stood aside and let Harry walk in first.
“Forgot to leave a light on,” Draco mumbled as he took out his wand to cast a few Incendios on the candle sconces about the room.
By the flickering light, Harry could see that the room was different from the way Slughorn used to keep it. Not quite completely Slytherin, there were touches of green. Rich, forest colored curtains hung in the window and through an archway he could see a duvet of mostly silver satin with a paisley green pattern covered his bed. The furniture was simpler than Slughorn’s, more modern and sleeker. And though Draco had cleaned out and organized the Potions office down in the dungeons, he still kept a personal ingredient cupboard in his room.
Draco strode to a liquor cabinet that Harry could see was not very full.
“I have fire whiskey, Sherry, and a bottle of wine.” He picked up the bottle and looked at it. “Actually, it’s champagne.”
Hesitating on his decision, Harry thought about his choices. He could use the courage of fire whiskey, but the champagne was a more elegant choice. But they weren’t really celebrating anything.
Draco removed two small, long stemmed glasses and unstoppered the bottle. He gave it a sniff before pouring.
As he handed Harry his glass, their fingers touched briefly, giving Harry a quick jolt in the pit of his stomach.
“This is good,” he said, after taking a sip.
“I may not have as much money as I used to, but I still have good taste,” Draco grinned. “Which is why there are only three bottles in my liquor cabinet,” he laughed.
“Quality, not quantity,” Harry nodded and took another sip.
“Indeed,” Draco agreed. The warmth of the liquor soothed and relaxed him. He was feeling less self conscious than he had when they first arrived.
Harry watched Draco as he tipped his head back slightly to get to the bottom of his Sherry glass--his second one of the evening. Draco’s Adam’s apple glided up and down, leading Harry’s eyes to the hollow of his neck. The top button of his shirt was undone, enticing Harry to look further. The candle light further romanticized Draco’s features. And Harry was so caught up in his observations that he hadn’t taken notice that Draco had moved closer until he began speaking.
“You know, I remember something you said that first night we went to the Leaky.”
Harry swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.
“Wha-what did I say?”
“You told me that there’s supposed to be a kiss at the end of a date.”
“I did?” Harry asked breathlessly.
Draco nodded and took a step closer.
“So, I guess, what I want to know is . . .” He took another small step. “Is this . . . a date?” he asked softly.
Harry let out a Sherry sweetened breath that Draco was close enough to feel on his face. He felt pinned in place by Draco’s gaze and remained statue-like.
Closing the very small gap separating them, Draco leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s.
Instantly, Harry’s brain shorted out. Though he’d been pretending the evening was a date in his head, the last thing he expected was for his former rival to make a move on him.
When Draco pulled back, he was horrified to find the expression on Harry’s face was one of shock, not pleasure. There was an excruciatingly long pause before he could speak.
“Fucking hell, you aren’t gay after all. I can’t believe I totally misread you. I thought you . . . wanted . . . but you said he.”
“I am. I do,” Harry said, snapping out of his daze. “You didn’t misread me.” He figured the best way to convince Draco that he had been right about Harry was to kiss him back.
Harry wrapped his hand around the back of Draco’s head and pulled him forward, crushing his lips just a bit too hard. They snogged feverishly, then slowed to a more leisurely pace, sucking and licking at one another’s mouths. The whole while, Harry was still in disbelief that his fantasy had come to fruition.
Finally, breaking apart, the pair stared and smiled goofily at each other.
“I do want you, Draco,” Harry confessed. “I like you, a lot.”
An uncontrollable and uncharacteristic grin crossed Draco’s slightly swollen lips. He sighed with relief. “Good. Because I really like you too. But why didn’t you ever tell me you’re queer?”
Harry blushed. “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d be interested. And I was afraid. So now what?”
“Now I get to take off your clothes and find out what’s underneath.”
A high pitched squeak escaped Harry’s throat. His fantasy scenario had never gotten past that first kiss, and the thought of moving further, perhaps even all the way, caused an obvious physical reaction.
“Oh Merlin, it’s been so long, I hope I can last ‘til then.”
“Me too,” Draco laughed.
They wasted no time trying to rid one another of clothing. Halfway through disrobing, they fell back into snogging and groping. Draco’s hand snaked its way into Harry’s unzipped jeans to find a cock of granite.
Harry moaned and leaned into the hand, begging for more friction. Draco moved his hand inside Harry’s pants and the skin on skin contact was almost too much for Harry. His moans were muffled by Draco’s mouth.
Knowing it would most likely bring Harry to his climax sooner than desired, Draco continued to stroke his cock as they stood in the middle of the room kissing. The blond enjoyed the noises Harry made, and even more so that he was the cause.
Suddenly Harry broke off the kissing. “Draco stop. I’m gonna cum already.”
“Oh, yeah,” Draco breathed in his ear, continuing to stroke.
Knees buckling, Harry shuddered and cried out. He grabbed tightly onto the other man’s shoulder to steady himself as he came all over Draco’s hand, his own clothes and a bit on the floor. His head fell back in white hot pleasure.
“Fuck. I didn’t mean to do that.” Harry lifted his head to face Draco. “I mean, I did. But not like that.”
“You weren’t kidding, were you?” Draco laughed. “But there was nothing wrong with that. It was sexy.” He flicked his wand at the mess and Vanished it.
“Oh, yes, premature ejaculation is so sexy,” Harry said sarcastically.
“I’d like to think of it more in terms of you finding me so hot, you couldn’t help yourself.”
“That is true,” Harry conceded. “And now that I’m a little more clear headed--no pun intended--I can concentrate on you.”
Harry slipped off the shirt that Draco was barely wearing and let it fall to the floor. He knelt down and finished unbuttoning the fly on Draco’s jeans. He looked up at Draco, his green eyes more intense than ever while he pulled Draco’s cock free of its confinement.
Rather than use his rough hands, Harry wrapped his lips around the pale pink tip in front of him, holding Draco’s gaze as he sucked and took the cock down his throat. Draco closed his eyes and sighed heavily, entranced by Harry’s attention.
“Bloody hell. I may not last any longer than you.”
Hands found their way into the thick mass of dark hair following its movements back and forth. Draco began to thrust his hips in counter rhythm to Harry’s. He lasted longer than Harry, but not much, giving him a warning. Harry responded by sucking harder and speeding up his actions.
When Draco came, he left no mess behind, as Harry swallowed every drop.
“Shite, that was the best blow job I’ve gotten in a long time.”
“A long time? Not ever?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth and standing to face his new lover.
“You’re full of yourself,” Draco teased.
“Actually, at the moment, I’m full of you.”
Draco’s eyes widened. He liked the naughty side of the former Gryffindor goody-goody. Glancing at his mantle clock, Draco yawned. It was past one in the morning.
“I suppose we ought to call it a night,” Draco said reluctantly. “We’ve got the Hogsmeade trip early tomorrow.”
“Oh, right. I almost forgot about that.” Harry zipped up his jeans and began buttoning his shirt.
Wishing he hadn’t suggested the evening end, Draco bent down to retrieve his own shirt, but didn’t put it back on. “You could stay,” he blurted out.
Harry froze for a minute. Things were moving a little faster than he expected.
“Forget I said that,” Draco said when he saw the look on Harry’s face.
“No. I love that you said that. But I . . . I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m ready for---”
“Don’t apologize,” Draco said gently. “I got ahead of myself. We should probably be discreet anyway. The last thing we need is for rumors to get started.”
“You mean, you want to keep it a secret?”
“Don’t misunderstand me,” Draco quickly replied. “I’m not ashamed or anything. But once the staff and students find out, it’ll be in the papers shortly after. You’ve been very careful to keep your personal life out of the press. And being associated with me will probably hurt your reputation.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. It’s been easy for me to keep relationships private. Mainly because I’ve had so few. Ginny was my last public relationship.”
“Yes, I know, which is why it took me so long to figure you out.”
“I’ve only dated muggle men,” Harry confessed. “They don’t go blabbing to Rita Skeeter when things turn sour.”
Harry was referring to Draco’s very public coming out at the hands of a scorned lover. Skeeter splashed the story on the front page of the newspaper for weeks. Past lovers, and some simply looking for fame, came out of the woodwork to dish about Draco’s sex habits and strange fetishes. Most were fabricated but it didn’t matter. The wizarding world lapped it up and Draco had been humiliated.
After that, he was much more selective in the company he kept, so he understood Harry’s preference for muggle men. He wasn’t worried about Harry, however. He had much more to lose than Draco if their relationship made the front page.
“I guess I’d better be going then,” Harry was loathe to agree.
“Best to take a round about route in case someone sees you.”
They paused to look at one another again and grinned. Harry stepped forward to gently kiss Draco goodnight.
“Maybe next time we’ll make it to the bed,” Harry whispered.
“I look forward to it.”
Draco opened up his door and glanced around to see if anyone was in the hallway. It was late enough that all the students should have been in their dormitories. But they both knew all too well that students were often where they weren’t supposed to be.
Slipping out the door, Harry quickly and quietly as possible bounded down the stairs toward his own quarters. He strolled on lost in thoughts of the evening. He couldn’t wait to tell---
“Bloody hell, how am I going to tell Ron I’m seeing Draco?” He voiced aloud.
Maybe he would have to keep it to himself for now. He wasn’t sure if even Hermione would understand, though she was more supportive of Draco becoming a Hogwarts professor. But they hadn’t spent the past two months getting to know the person Draco had become. That would have to be remedied. Harry’s best friends had to be the first to know about the relationship, then he could tackle the wizard community. And even before that, Harry would have to publicly acknowledge his homosexuality.
If Draco’s experience was anything to go by, Harry was in for a rough ride.