Harry didn’t notice the rest of his potions class gathering their books around him. He wasn’t listening to Snape’s dismissal or his announcement of what pages were to be read by next class period. He ignored Hermione’s elbow that was bumping deliberately against his, and her exasperated sigh that followed, as she grabbed Harry’s planner and scribbled the assignment down for him. His head jerked slightly when he heard Ron mumbling something about quidditch practice, but as he hadn’t caught the first part, his subconscious decided to ignore that, too.
He didn’t ignore these things on purpose. Harry Potter was normally very attentive, and he always looked forward to little moments with his friends like the ones he had just ignored, simply because the first part of his life had been so bereft of them.
Harry wasn’t used to not being in control like this, especially in regards to his love life. There had always been so much for him to deal with, so much motion that life was constantly throwing at him, that his love life for the most part had ceased to exist. It was a part of himself that he hadn’t even been sure existed at all… until four months ago. Four months and thirteen days, he reminded himself. Everything had changed then, all because of one person. No, the control was no longer Harry’s. The reigns were held by the silvery-blue eyed boy who had just turned to face him with a small smile, capturing all of Harry’s attention in one small, unspoken act.
Dammit, those eyes… just one glance… you turn around and I’m suddenly under your spell…
The back of Draco Malfoy’s head would not have been a particularly interesting subject to most. However, it had been made the primary focus of Harry’s attention throughout the entire potions lesson, and had kept him contentedly amused. He noticed every little movement of the other boy’s flesh; the way he cocked his head slightly to the right every time he was scribbling down a note, the studiously confident way he leaned over the cauldron and added his ingredients. While Draco was waiting for his potion to simmer and emit purple bubbles, signaling that it was time to add the final ingredient (porcupine quills), he crossed his arms over the desk and laid his head down; something that only he had the power to get away with in Snape’s classroom. Ron had complained about this loudly somewhere off to Harry’s right, but Harry pretended to be completely absorbed in the chopping of his daisy roots as he continued to chance glances at his lover.
What are you thinking about? Why haven’t you turned around yet to seek me? Do you know that I haven’t truly breathed for the passed hour?
Draco, even slightly slumped over as he rested his head, captured a grace beyond description. Not for the first time Harry reveled in the pale cream of Draco’s skin. The back of his neck and a little of his upper back were visible thanks to his stretched out position. His skin was flawless and smooth, like marble. Just last night Harry had been kissing that neck, feeling that skin against his own. His cock twitched, threatening to come to life and Harry shifted slightly, thankful that he was wearing a cloak that would hide this.
Shit… all your fault, you smug bastard. You’re fucking beautiful. You shine like the sun. And I want you.
Draco’s white-blond hair was the brightest, easiest to see thing in the dimly lit dungeon. Harry had always known that it looked magnificently soft to the touch, but now he knew that in real life it was even softer than that. He was so glad that Draco didn’t gel it back anymore, as he had done for his first few years at Hogwarts. Harry sighed to himself, holding himself back from his deep inward desire to do something more than just watch and appreciate the gentle rise and fall of his lover’s slim frame as he took deep even breaths. He was so perfect and exquisite, especially in times like these when he was silently asleep, with his big egotistical mouth closed for a change. Except that, Harry noted, he wasn’t asleep. His left foot was jumping up and down slightly, though quite manically. It was what Draco always did when he was waiting. Harry smiled, glad he was learning and memorizing all the habits of his lover.
So beautiful…
A whole half an hour early, Draco’s potion began to produce the signifying purple bubbles. Draco sat up, smirking proudly, and then jumped to stir the potion in a clockwise motion as he added the quills in one by one, in five second intervals. Snape strode over then, arms crossed in a way that would have seemed menacing, except that he had a look of pride upon his face; a look reserved only for the members of his own house. The potion turned mauve as soon as the bubbles stopped, and then Draco turned off the burner, stepping back to survey his work.
“Mister Malfoy, you’ve managed to complete your potion far within the allotted amount of time, once again. Might I inquire about the apparent loophole you’ve discovered?” Snape growled lowly, and Harry wondered how the man who had been forever been the bane of his existence could manage to sound scary and praising all at the same time. Neville whimpered his obvious agreement a couple of rows back.
Draco stood taller and grinned broadly. “Well, Sir, I knew that the reason the wait was an hour was because of the twelve daisy roots used. By adding twenty-four daisy roots instead, and by removing the erumpent fluid, which had been acting as a sustainer during that extra half hour, and also by adding half the amount of doxy eggs, because in only half an hour eight would have caused an explosion, the time is shortened. Of course, it would have been fine either way, but it’s the same potion in the end, just much simpler.”
Bastard. I love you. Even if you maul me in potions.
“Brava, Mister Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin.” Snape’s eyebrows rose and the side of his mouth lifted for a brief moment in what almost could have been a smile, until he turned to survey the rest of the class with his usual grimace. “The rest of you could take a lesson here from Draco’s observations. You’ve only twenty minutes now to finish, and I’ll be surprised if another of you earns a passing grade.” He swept in his usual manor to the front of classroom.
For the rest of the period, Draco sat at his desk, head propped against a hand, leafing half heartedly through his potions text. At one point, he scribbled a line or two onto a small piece of parchment, folded it in half a few times and then held onto it, continuing to turn the pages, attempting to stifle a yawn but failing. Harry wondered about the note, wondered what it was for, if it was possibly for him. That’s when Draco turned around slowly, his eyes meeting Harry’s. That’s also when Harry’s control had seeped out of him and had drifted over to this other boy. Draco smiled. Harry melted.
God dammit… in this moment you’re all I want. In this moment, I am happy… in this moment I want to grab you and…
Draco rose gracefully, at the same time nonchalantly tossing the note on the ground near Harry’s feet.
“Harry! Are you coming, mate?” Ron said rather loudly and forcefully, as if Harry had some kind of hearing impediment. Harry glanced up quickly to his friend who was standing with Hermione near the edge of the table, both with their books in hand.
“We’ll be late for History of Magic if you don’t come along,” Hermione pouted, and Ron groaned.
“Never mind, then. Take your time!” Ron suggested, and Hermione rolled her eyes, stalking off to class on her own. “What are you even doing?” he inquired further.
Erm…
“Oh, n-nothing. I think I dropped something, is all.” Harry scooted back in his chair and bent down, easily retrieving the note Draco had thrown there. “Here it is. Ready?”
Harry picked up his books quickly, hiding the note in an inside pocket of his cloak, and moved to leave with his friend. He glanced back to those silver eyes once before he exited the room and spared a smile. Draco winked at him with an incline of his head, before he turned to get his own books. Harry and Ron hurried up the stairs after Hermione, and Harry’s heart felt lighter than it had in his whole life.
***
It wasn’t until after History of Magic, after lunch, and after Herbology that Harry managed to get himself alone in order to read Draco’s note. And then it was only in the boy’s bathroom, so he tried to hurry up about it.
4 am
Quidditch Pitch
I’ll bring a blanket
You bring the chocolate
Love, d
‘Of course,’ Harry thought, ‘because I have chocolate just flowing out of my arse!’ He sighed before placing the note back in his pocket, but smiled at the same time. A detour to the kitchens seemed in order before he met Draco much later for the sunrise.
