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Silver Lining	By : RainShadow Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1424 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Silver Lining
- 1
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and characters associated do not belong to this author, who is not making any profit, and would be sadly not worth the time to sue, as this author has no money. I just joined AFF.net and thought I��d post an old story. Enjoy!

*~~Silver Lining~~*

~*~To: Draco Malfoy
Because you need to be warmed up
Happy Christmas!~*~

Sprawled out on the Slytherin Common Room floor, Draco Malfoy read, then reread the label on the lumpy package in front of him. It was very early, Christmas morning, and snow was falling in a flurry outside. It was chilly in the dungeon, and no fire had been lit (which annoyed Draco //lazy house elves//) because only three Slytherin students had chosen to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday, Draco included.

//No name. Hmmm.// Who could it be from? Mentally, Draco ran down the list of people- He'd all ready received his gifts from Mother and Father (50 Galleons, a new broom //we *finally* won a match!//, a leather-bound journal, his favorite candies, and a book of dark spells... //"learn these by heart"//) and the customary trinkets from Pansy, Blaise, and Professor Snape. Who *could* this be from?

//There's only one way to find out,// Draco thought, and determinedly he unwrapped the squishy package. Or rather, *tried*. It was tied with cheerful wrapping paper //little dancing reindeer...?// and at least four meters of ribbon. Draco struggled for a few minutes, but soon gave up and exasperatedly snatched his wand.

"Extricus!" he yelled, and the ribbons writhed and reluctantly slithered off the gift. Impatient now, the Slytherin ripped off the paper and lifted up the present. It was cloth, white as snow, with silvery, silky lining. Draco realized what it was.

//What the...//

A blanket. It was a baby blanket. //Who would send *me* a *baby* blanket?! I'm captain of the Quidditch team, half the school wants to get in *my* pants! *Who?*//

"Someone who thinks I need to be "warmed up", obviously." he muttered outloud. How odd. Almost unconsciously he raised the blanket and rubbed it across his face. It was so *soft*! Draco took a deep breath. It smelled of sunlight and, very faintly, vanilla. //Now where have I smelled that before?// He draped the blanket across his shoulders like a child's imitation of a stately cloak. He felt a steady warmth emanating from the cloth, and a small smile found its way upon his lips. It had obviously been Charmed for warmth. How lovely. His smile grew wider. He was absurdly pleased with the silvery-white mystery gift. It was just a blanket, and yet it was so much more...

{~*__*~}

17-year-old Harry Potter shivered as he crept out of his bed. He pulled the comforter with him, and sat cross-legged next to a heaping pile of presents at the foot of his bed. His green eyes widened as he took in the sheer amount of gifts. This had to be the most he'd ever gotten! He smiled slightly as he opened the ones from Ron and Hermione (chocolate frogs and a book entitled: "Careers in the Wizarding World"), and wished briefly that they were there with him. //In fact//, he thought as he looked round at the empty room, //I wish *someone* had stayed.// All his classmates had gone home for the break, and Harry had thought he'd welcome the solitude. But now... //I'm lonely.// He sighed, and opened the rest of his packages. The fun was somehow diminished now that he had no one to share it with. His hands closed around a small bundle, and he brought it out of the pile. There was no tag. Curiously, Harry unwrapped the plain white paper, which revealed a glasses case. //Odd,// he thought, and opened it. A small note fell into his hands. He set it aside and picked up the object in the case. Glasses, of course, or rather, *frames*. Harry admired them... they were wire frames, and quite modern looking. Gently, he set them down and picked up the scrap of parchment.
Harry Potter,
You look quite ridiculous with those old, out-of-fashion frames. Wear these instead, you'll look more mature. The spell to switch the lenses is: Opticus Transitious. Enjoy your Holiday.

Harry stared at the note, trying to discern who had sent it to him. The handwriting was unfamiliar... and then there was the part about him looking "ridiculous". //Do I really look that bad?// he thought with amusement. He took off his round glasses and studied them. They were rather beat-up, he admitted to himself. /Why not?// he thought, and grabbed his wand. The charm worked, and Harry shoved his new frames onto his nose and went into the bathroom to have a look. His surprised -and handsome- face stared back out at him. //I *do* look better!// he thought. //Someone has good taste, but why wouldn't they leave their name...?// He shrugged and returned his pile of presents, a small smile now replacing his glum expression from a few moments before.

{~*__*~}

As always, there was only one long table set up in the Great Hall for meals. Harry wandered down to grab something for lunch, and found the remainder of Hogwarts' occupants there, too. Dumbledore waved merrily, and Harry grinned back and took a seat. Most of the Professors were there, as were a few Hufflepuffs, some Slytherins, and a 4th year Gryffindor, whom Harry sat next to. And, sulking across from him, a few seats down, was Draco Malfoy. He was slouching in his chair, picking at his food, exuding a general "stay-away-from-me-or-else" vibe.

"Happy Christmas." Harry greeted, and nearly all the people seated returned with a cheery, "Happy Christmas!" Of course, Malfoy didn't say anything. The Gryffindor shrugged and helped himself to the abundant supply of shepherd's pie.

He made polite conversation with the people around him, trying to fight of melancholy. He felt distinctly out-of-place, and soon fell uncharacteristically quiet. He leaned his head on his hand and simply watched the people around him through half-lidded eyes.

Draco was feeling just as uncomfortable as Harry, if not more //Better here, than at home.// he thought darkly. He knew what awaited him when he returned to Malfoy Manor. He shivered, and slid even further into his seat, as if he was trying to melt into it. Harry now watched Malfoy with sudden interest. The young man pulled something out of the collar of his black robes and held it to his face. It was white cloth, with silver lining. With a jerk, Harry realized it was the blanket he'd sent his rival! Malfoy now appeared to be *smelling* the part he had pulled out... the remainder of the cover was obviously still under his clothes. It made quite a ridiculous picture- the blanket half out of the blonde's robes, one pale hand holding it to his face and breathing deeply. Harry grinned to himself.

Draco abruptly pulled the blanket he had dubbed "Silkie" back under his robes and looked around furtively. His gaze fell on Potter, who was still grinning as he watched Hagrid pile *more* food onto his plate. //The frames look good on him,// Draco mused, pleased that Potter had switched them. //I knew they would.//

Professor Dumbledore rose from his seat and glanced at the enchanted ceiling above them.

"It seems the weather has cleared up." he announced to the table. "Why don't you all go outside and play?" The younger students jumped up and raced each other to the huge doors. Only Harry and Draco remained. Harry smiled slightly.

"I think I'll just go back upstairs, Professor." Harry said.

"Now Harry, my boy, you look like you could do with a bit of fun. You too, Mr. Malfoy. Go on, get some fresh air." said Dumbledore. Harry saw Malfoy give the Headmaster a "God-I-hate-you" look, and Harry himself looked at Dumbledore skeptically. But it seemed that the Headmaster was serious. With a sigh, Harry scooted out of his chair and walked towards the door. Draco reluctantly followed him.

"Stay out of the Great Hall until dinner time!" Hagrid called after them. Dumbledore turned to his fellow teachers.

"Shall we begin?" he asked, a smile on his face.

{~*__*~}

Harry's booted feet flattened the newly fallen snow. "We can't go in the Great Hall 'til dinner!" he called out to the seven other younger students. They waved back and continued building their snowman. The ebony-haired teen turned around in the frosty air, already bored. Then he spotted Malfoy. The Slytherin was standing apart from the rest of the group. Harry suddenly had a very childish, *fun* idea. He bent down and scooped up some snow. He molded it into a ball, and snuck up behind the unsuspecting blonde.

"Malfoy!" he called. The Slytherin turned around, and Harry threw the snowball. It hit Malfoy smack in the face. Harry laughed delightedly. Draco angrily wiped his face.

"I��ll get you for that, Potter!" he yelled, and bent down to make a snowball. Unfortunately for him, this provided a nice target (and view!) for Harry to aim at.

Draco felt cold ice on his bum and jumped up. He let out a yowl that would rival a cat��s and charged at Harry. Harry��s eyes widened (behind his sexy new frames) and he began to run, laughing madly the entire time. Draco finally caught up with him on the edge of a hill and shoved some ice down the back of Harry's robes.

"See how you like it." he muttered darkly, and started to walk off. But Harry leapt like he had been shocked, and started to fall. He grabbed onto Malfoy to keep his balance, who, in turn, tried to shove Potter off of him. It didn't work, and the two bounced down the small rise into another pile of snow. Harry landed face first on the ground, and felt rather than heard the sharp *snap*. He groaned and propped himself up on his elbows. Malfoy sat up, rubbing his aching shoulder. Harry picked up the two pieces of his new frames. Broken.

"Damn it." he cursed softly. Malfoy looked at him in annoyance, then pulled out his wand.

"Opticus Repairas." he said, and the two halves became whole. "Honestly Potter, be more careful will you? Those frames were bloody *expensive*." he grumbled, pocketing his wand. Harry froze.

"They were, were they?" Harry said carefully. Draco looked up, the implications of what he had just said dawning on him. His cheeks, already pink from the cold, became even brighter. Draco got up gracefully.

"Yes, so be careful." and he began to walk away.

Harry didn't even stop to fully think everything through, he just scooped up some snow from the cold ground and heaved it at his... what? Enemy? Not anymore. The ice missile hit the blonde on his back, and Malfoy turned around and lunged at Harry. They tumbled furiously through the snow, until they came to a precarious stop against a tree. Harry had landed on his back, Draco pressed on top of him, his face in the curve on Harry's shoulder and neck. He groped for some snow and shoved it down the front of the emerald-eyed teen. The Gryffindor jerked up.

"Cold!" he shrieked, then noticed Draco's unusual behavior. He had an intense look of concentration on his face, as if he was trying to remember something. Abruptly, he pressed his face into the folds of Harry's robes. "Malfoy! What're you-" but his complaints were cut off as Draco sat up, a triumphant smirk on his face.

"It was you!" he accused, pulling the baby blanket halfway out of his collar again. "*You* sent me Silkie!" Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Silkie, eh?" he asked, grinning. "How did you know?"

"Smell it." Malfoy commanded, scrambling close and pressing the fabric against Harry's face. Harry took a deep breath. He didn't really smell anything particular.

"Ack! Okay okay I smelled it! Stop trying to smother me! What about it?"

Malfoy's gray eyes flicked down. "It smells like you." he said.

"Oh?" said Harry, amused. It never even occurred to him that it was *Malfoy* he was talking to, the whole incident seemed completely surreal. He cocked his head to one side. "And what do I smell like?" he asked, teasing, yet genuinely curious.

Draco looked up, his gray eyes smoldering with an intense heat, and suddenly, Harry shivered. "Like a new day," he whispered, voice low and sweet. "Like Quidditch and vanilla and honey and *life*."

Harry realized he was holding his breath, stomach dancing with icy-hot fear-joy, anticipation, as he boldly stared back at this newly discovered person. Of seemingly its own accord, he reached out a hand and lightly touched one pale cheek. Draco gulped. Their heads were close together, their visible breath mingling in the cold air.

"Draco." Harry said, savoring the word, this name, the *right* to say this name. "Thank you for my Christmas present." And he leaned forward and closed his eyes and sealed his lips against Draco's. Heat flooded through his body as the blonde moved even closer, tilting his head for a better angle. Harry, his back braced against the tree, grabbed the fabric of Draco's robes and pulled him forward. Draco lost his balance a little and ended up half sprawling on Harry. He pushed himself up just as Harry yanked him up roughly, their mouths still connected the entire time.

It was hot and wet and fast, like a storm gone completely out of control. Harry had his hands in Draco's hair, pulling him close, or, perhaps, preventing him from leaving.

Finally, when spots began to swim before his eyes he pulled away, gasping. Draco was more breathless than he was, and rested his forehead against Harry's. For a few heartbeats they simply breathed, chests rising and falling, their breath coming out in white puffs. Harry relaxed his hands down to circle the back of Draco's neck.

"Maybe this isn't such-" Harry began softly, eyes still closed as if afraid of the answer to his un-formed question.

"Shut up." Draco mumbled, and kissed Harry again. He pulled away, swallowing hard. "It *is* a bad idea, so just shut up!" he nearly yelled. Harry nodded, aware of the recklessness... and not caring... he pulled Draco to him again. And for a long time, the frigid air was filled with feathery sighs and nothing else, desire crackling like electricity and seeming to almost freeze and surround them.

Their kisses slowed, became more luxuriant, and Harry was, suddenly, aware of his surroundings. The Slytherin was now fully above him; he had slid down the trunk of the tree and his back was pressed against the frozen ground.

"'M cold." he mumbled into Draco's mouth. The Slytherin sniffled and sat up. Harry shivered from the sudden loss of body heat. He desperately wanted it back.

"What?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing."

Draco observed him shrewdly. "Liar. Your teeth are chattering. Let's go inside." Harry shook his head again, no, afraid that this moment would be lost if he stood up, that this beautiful person he had *just* *found* would disappear completely... back to Malfoy.

But Draco pulled him up unsteadily, then pulled Silkie out from under his robes and wrapped it around Harry. Draco's hand brushed Harry's, and instantly they were clasped. They trudged up the small hill, and walked back towards Hogwarts. The younger students had finished their snowman and had apparently gone back inside.

Draco led him to a little sidedoor that opened into a corridor that went to the dungeons. Down many stairs they traveled, silently, torchlight flickering over them. They slipped into the Slytherin common room, crossing quickly to a hall lined with several doors.

Draco pulled Harry into one, and softly shut the door while the Gyffindor examined his surroundings. Four green be-curtained beds greeted his eyes. "Which one's yours?" he asked, without turning around. He felt Draco come up behind him, breath on his neck, sending shivers of a different kind through his body.

"That one." he murmured, pointing to the left, in the far corner. Harry turned his head slightly, and Draco brought their lips together. It was sweet, and Harry felt strong hands on his back. Draco removed Silkie and tossed it onto his bed. Then he unbuttoned the front of Harry's robes, and peeled them off, and the dark-haired young man shivered in his arms. Draco held him close, his hands sliding under the damp fabric of his t-shirt, exploring the contours of Harry's body. Harry sighed, leaning back, and let his eyes fall half-closed as Draco caressed him, then gasped as hands played across rapidly stiffening nipples. Draco grinned and nudged Harry towards his bed.

Harry's shirt came off next, then his jeans, and, if one cared to look, one would see a trail of wet garments leading to Draco Malfoy's bed. When they had reached the edge of it, he gave Harry a gentle push. The supple youth tumbled backwards onto the mattress and proceeded to draw back the covers and get under them, however, when he saw what Draco was up to, he stopped.

The sexy blonde was methodically stripping himself of robe, shirt and pants, down to his cotton black boxers. Harry watched with wide green eyes as more and more white skin was revealed to his hungry gaze. Draco smirked.

"Like that, do you?" he asked, and Harry mutely nodded. Draco laughed, a pure, crystal sound, and slid under the covers that Harry held open invitingly.

Flesh on flesh contact sent a jolt through Harry, the boy resting on top of him felt so good! Draco pressed feverish kisses all over the body below him. He straddled Harry, grinning as the "Golden Boy" writhed beneath him. The Gryffindor's arms went around his waist, pressing their bodies together, creating massive friction, and Draco groaned.

He ground his hips against Harry's, slipping the boxers off of first Harry, then himself.

They arched into one another, hastily and lustfully. The moans became louder and the thrusts more intense until Harry cried out beneath him and Draco screamed seconds after and collapsed next to Harry, whose eyes were already closed in exhaustion.

Draco pressed his face into Harry's warm skin, and he too closed his eyes and quickly dozed off, hoping that this wasn't a mistake.

{~*__*~}

A short while later, Draco opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of brightly green ones. He blinked in amazement.

"You're still here," he said, the shock causing him to say what he normally wouldn't. Harry's brows drew together.

"Yes." he said slowly, worriedly. "Is that bad?"

Draco shook his head a little. "No. I just didn't expect you to still be here."

Harry pillowed his head on Draco's chest. "Why?" he asked softly.

The reply was barely a whisper. "I thought when you woke up that you'd hate me. And leave."

"I'm still here." Harry said quietly. The gray-eyed Slytherin said nothing, pondering the recent events. Unconsciously he wrapped an arm around his newly-made lover, and Harry sighed peacefully and snuggled closer to him. Draco mulled things over in his mind, while Harry catnapped on him. It was somehow very relaxing to see Harry's head rise and fall with each breath he took.

Eventual understanding came to him...If Harry was still here then...

"you want to make this work." he finished outloud.

"Hmm?" Harry mumbled sleepily.

"We could..." he hesitated, "we could make this work." he said tentatively. Harry shifted, tensed, Draco could actually *see* his muscles clench.

"Do you want to?" he asked, a seemingly harmless question.

"I..." but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Harry remained motionless. He understood, in an odd way, just as he understood that the gifts they had secretly exchanged were more than just gifts, they were... peace offerings of a sort, a truce, though neither of them had imagined just where this new lack of animosity would lead them!

"We could make it work." he affirmed, and felt Draco exhale deeply.

"Yes." he whispered, his fingers combing through Harry's slightly damp hair (which curled the ends quite adorably.). Harry grinned in that stupid way that people who are undeniably happy smile. He bounced a little, seizing Draco's other hand and playing with it.

"Yes." he repeated. Draco rolled his eyes.

"You are very immature, you know that?" he asked Harry, who replied happily,

"Yep!" and continued manipulating Draco's hand. He matched their palms up, then Draco twined his fingers gently around Harry's, a simple gesture of affection. Harry snickered as something occurred to him. "I was certainly mature enough for you!" he cackled. Draco blushed a little.

"Shut up." he mumbled crossly.

"Well, I was, wasn't I?" Harry kept going mischievously. "I mean, you screamed pretty loud-" he stated proudly. Draco sat up, throwing Harry haphazardly off of him, and leaned down and effectively shut Harry up. When Draco kissed him, he turned into liquid quicksilver, pliable and supple in Draco's arms.

"Nice." Harry sighed, and snuggled back next to him.

"You're quite arrogant for your-" Sudden realization hit Draco. "That was your first time, wasn't it?!" Harry tensed again, alarmed. He nodded the tiniest bit. Draco sank back, under the covers. He pulled Harry close to him, who didn't say anything.

"Not yours?" he finally asked, whispering. Draco frowned.

"That's not the point," he said crisply.

"What is, then?" Harry asked.

"I... it- it's supposed to be something *special*, not just screwing your enemy." Every muscle in Harry's body went taut, and he pulled slowly away from Draco, visibly stung.

"It *was* special." he said defiantly through the treacherous film of tears in his eyes. "I think I should go." and he tried to climb over Draco without touching him. Draco's eyes widened. He grabbed Harry's shoulders, who shivered at his touch.

"No no no!" he said impatiently. "I meant for you, not for me! *I* thought it was... you are... amazing." he breathed, and Harry shut his eyes and nodded and allowed the Slytherin to hold him. Two tears trickled slowly down his cheeks. //This is a bad idea, Harry, relationships lead to pain, you *know* that, and with Draco *Malfoy*?! It's a sure thing.// Draco leaned over and pulled Silkie over the two of them. The blanket's warmth was comforting. Harry slowly relaxed, but he didn't fall asleep again. //I don't care.// he told himself fiercely. //I *want* this.// and he had made up his stubborn mind, and that was that.

{~*__*~}

Draco and Harry arrived at the Great Hall together, a few minutes before dinner. Thankfully, no one noticed this curious phenomenon, because they were all gawking at the decorations. They were magnificent. Tapestries and streamers hung everywhere, silver and gold tinsel wound around everything, the beautiful tree with gifts heaped under it... and the table! Roast duck and pudding and biscuits and potatoes and all sorts of delicious treats, piled so high that it was difficult to see the other side. The younger students were darting all over the place like little bees, shrieking as they discovered the elaborately engraved nameplates, and grabbing handfuls of wizard crackers and setting them off. Harry turned and flashed a big grin at Draco, then joined the children, laughing loudly.

The professors, already seated, were chatting happily together. McGonagall was discreetly flirting with Hagrid, who was roaring with mirth. It was complete chaos, and there, sitting calmly in the middle like an island in a stormy sea, was the Headmaster. Dumbledore was talking quietly to Professor Snape, a look of polite distaste crossing his oily features as Draco watched.

Draco's attention was suddenly caught by something else, it was Harry, who was smiling shyly, and jerking his head at the Slytherin. Pretending to be detached, Draco walked over to the table. Harry gestured down, at the nameplates. There was his, Draco Malfoy in curly script. He shrugged at Harry, who smiled and held up the nameplate across from him. Harry Potter. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. How...? But Harry shrugged too, apparently as baffled as he was.

Dumbledore rang a little bell on the table, calling to him everyone's attention. "Please seat yourselves according to where your nameplates are located." he said clearly. The rowdy students slowly filed to the table, taking their seats. Draco looked dubiously at Snape, who did not give any sign of seeing his favorite student. Uneasily, Draco sat down across from Harry. Dumbledore continued talking. "Now, I know these arrangements may come as a surprise to some of you, but please remember that it is Christmas, and that we should all be able to get along." At this, everyone at the table suddenly seemed to discover that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were seated across from one another. Quickly, almost automatically, the two glared at each other.

Harry and Draco only had to keep this up for a few seconds, because as soon as everyone saw it was business as usual their attention went to their *own* seating arrangements; this was a good thing because Harry felt the veneer of his face-mask start to crack almost immediately, and a small smile twitched at the corner of Draco's mouth. But it was a good excuse to stare at each other. Harry felt Draco's foot on his leg, and he blushed hotly and dropped his gaze. Draco smirked. It was so much easier to embarrass Pott-*Harry* this way! Still blushing, Harry moved his legs away from Draco's probing, and tried to focus on what Dumbledore was saying "...So let us celebrate this happy day, and dig..." But Draco persisted, his foot sliding under Harry's robes and up his calf, and Harry jerked up in his seat, almost spilling a jug of steaming hot apple cider all over everyone. Dumbledore stopped in mid-sentence, and turned. McGonagall looked affronted, Hagrid raised an eyebrow, and Snape just sneered. The other students looked mildly interested, but they were anxious to start eating.

Harry wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but he knew Draco would get him there. So, instead, he just mumbled, "Sorry." and dropped his head, expecting the Headmaster to finish speaking so they could start. But he didn't. Dumbledore scrutinized the Gryffindor until Harry was trying not to squirm under his piercing gaze. The wheels in his mind were turning... McGonagall coughed loudly, catching the Headmaster's wandering attention. He turned to her, flashing a grateful smile...? and resumed his speech.

"Please dig in!" he said merrily, and began serving himself. A great weight seemed to have been lifted from those seated, and they ate and chatted like nothing had happened.

But something had. Surreptitiously, Harry glanced at Draco, who looked about as worried as he felt. Draco's gray eyes flicked to the Headmaster, and Harry followed his gaze. The old man was looking at them, dawning comprehension in his eyes. Harry clutched the tablecloth nervously. He suddenly wished he was back in the Slytherin dungeons, in the warm bed, drowsing on Draco. To his astonishment, the elderly professor seemed to actually read this wish, his thoughts, like words on a book. His emerald eyes were wide and scared, but then Dumbledore winked at him, and Harry slumped in his chair. Draco looked at him curiously, apparently having missed the exchange. Harry shook his head, thinking, //Not now,// and Draco got the message. He nodded briskly.

{~*__*~}

Later, after dinner, a 2nd year discovered that the gifts under the gigantic tree were for them, eliciting a period of excited squeals and laughter. Wrapping paper was scattered everywhere, turning the floor into a sea of red and green and gold and blue. You couldn't walk two feet in any direction without catching your feet on lengths of ribbon.

Harry crawled under the tree and emerged holding two packages; one he tossed covertly to Draco. The silvery-blonde opened his gift and puzzled over it; three thin, cylindrical objects. Harry rolled his eyes and stole one from him. As Draco watched, he took the cap off and scribbled something on the back of a scrap of wrapping paper. Draco watched, astonished, as ink appeared from the tip of the thing. He read the note, Harry's untidy scrawl familiar to him. It's a Muggle object... they're called pens. Rather nice ones, too. Draco nodded. He uncapped another "pen" and, with an awkward grip, wrote, interesting. The ink in this one was a rich green as opposed to the black of Harry's ink. Open your gift. He instructed Harry. The teen looked down, wild ebony hair getting in his eyes. His present was a dictionary; write a word down and the definition would appear. Pleased, Harry experimented with the parchment, thinking up words such as "diaphanous" (adj.; clear, translucent) and "thorp" (noun; town, village) while Draco watched, amusement dancing in his eyes like fireflies.

At around ten o'clock, nearly all of the students and teachers had wandered off to their own respective parts of Hogwarts. Harry and Draco were sitting comfortably next to the tree, talking softly, lost in their own private world. Draco's hand rested absently on Harry's knee, testament to the hidden intimacy that they shared.

Albus Dumbledore watched them, amazed, he had to give the boys some credit. He approached them quietly, and they only noticed him when his shadow fell onto them. Draco jerked his hand away from Harry as if he had been scalded. The Headmaster leaned close and whispered to them,

"It seems to me," he smiled at them and rested his hand on Harry's head, "that what I wanted to begin has already been accomplished." and then he left them to puzzle out his statement.

Harry blinked as he watched the Headmaster leave, then turned to Draco. The blonde was scowling. Harry laughed.

"You look so childish when you do that." he explained. Draco grunted and rose, pulling Harry to his feet.

"Don't talk to *me* about childish." he snapped. They argued affably all the way back to the Slytherin common room, where Harry stopped and suddenly realized where he was.

"I'm not-" he began, but Draco hauled him through the door, ignoring his complaints. Once they were in Draco's dormroom Harry forgot his complaints completely, as Draco had a much more worthwhile application for his mouth. They stumbled onto Draco's unmade bed, and Draco paused, carefully removing Harry's glasses. Harry made love to him; was all over him, kissing and biting, exploring where Draco was most sensitive to his touch, aggressive in the very sense of the word, and Draco didn't mind. He just let himself *feel*, and God was Harry good at that.

{~*__*~}

It was dark, and warm, and perfect. He didn't want to move, wanted to stay in his bed forever like this, Harry in his arms, almost asleep but not quite.

"I guess this means you're staying." he whispered into Harry's ear. The boy just sighed, and Draco wasn't sure if he had even heard. His rhythmic breathing soothed Draco, eyelids fluttering delicately, and soon only the dark, cold stones of the dungeon could hear the sound of relaxed breathing, of warmth and pleasure and love.

*~~Finis~~*

~RainShadow
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Silver Lining