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Long Strides to a Short Walk	By : EmeraldGrey Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5988 -:- 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
- 1-1
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9a
- 10-9b
- 11-9c
- 12-10
- 13-11
- 2
- 3
- 4
**~~**Chapter 3**~~**

The morning sun greeted the day, as pillowy clouds full of shades of vermilion, mauve, and dark cobalt blue blended into lemon yellow with burnt orange wisps.

Miniature golden sunbeams sparkled and fluttered like tiny snitches all across the room and down onto the blood-red plush floor of the Gryffindor Common room, straight into the eyes of the 4 boys who were coming slowly awake.

"Dammit Neville, get off of my arm!"

"Weasley, um you've got your foot in my..."

"Sorry Blaise, Colin! Wake up!"

"Guys, I just had the weirdest dream! Um, why are we on the Common room fl.."

"Neville! UP!"

"Trevor?"

"Do I resemble a bleedin' frog to you, you moron."

"Well.."

'Finish that sentence, 'Longbottom', and 'Trevor' will have a playmate!"

"Gulp."

"Snicker."

"Colin, Crookshanks could do with someone to *bat around* OR one of Snape�s many snakes could use a lil' morning snack!?

"Squeak"

"Exactly. Glad we understand each other."

The Leaky Cauldron inside the Room with a View

Harry Potter awoke with a start.

EVERYTHING hurt.

His legs, his arms, his mouth, his arse. HIS ARSE???!!

His head was pounding, as was his heart. A slight rustle from the left of him and he bit back a squeak, as a platinum head of long tousled blonde hair peeked outside of the white bed sheet and light blue coverlet.

Slamming his eyes shut, Harry mumbled over and over, "it was just a dream, it was just a dream.."

He almost had himself believing it too, until he heard a snort and 'that voice'.

"Well good morning to you too cupcake." Was sarcastically drawled.

Harry cringed, and put both small hands over his now flaming face.

Draco slowly sat up, and peered down at the smaller boy.

Harry peeked at him through his fingers, and flushed more at the sultry smirk that the satisfied Slytherin was wearing on his smug face.

Harry had to fight back the urge to punch him.

Moments ticked into minutes as each boy waited for the other to make the first move.

Finally, Harry took a deep breath as he told himself, 'you can do this. You have fought Voldemort for years, killed a bleeding Basilisk, won a Wizarding tournament, you have kicked Malfoy�s arse several times, with and WITHOUT a bloody wand, looking him in the eye, after having hours of hot sweaty sex with your worst enemy, it should be a walk in the park!'

*snicker* you called him *stud muffin Mr. Potter, that alone is worth hours, months of torture. Just wait till all of Slytherin hears about this! His inner Snape droned with glee.

'OH, SOD off before I pull your bleedin' bollicks off and force feed them to you!'

Harry groaned once again as his *inner Snape* teased him without mercy.

*Scared Potter?* Inner Snape twittered.

'Oh go sit on a stirring spoon, you evil, greasy, git! Harry fumed inwardly.'

Draco opened his bleary silver eyes, quietly observing his *enemy? lover? new friend?*

Fear griped his heart as he wrestled with his inner demons.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Gryffindor Common room is now alive with sounds of fighting

"HE WOULD NOT!" Ron Weasley thundered, his 6' 3 inch tall lanky frame shaking with barely suppressed rage, while his long freckled fingers itched to hex his new friend as he now found himself towering over the 5' 10 inch slender blonde boy.

Well he would have hexed him, IF bloody Hermione had just stayed in her room, and minded her OWN bleeding business!

At his first bellow, and because wimpy Colin and that bloody git Neville, had ran squeaking like kicked puppies up to her dorm room, knocking on her damn door like 'he-who-shall-not-be named' had just proposed to them!

What a couple of girls!

Just because he and Blaise MIGHT have kinda, sorta threatened them a bit, bloody wimps!

So, both had tripped over their tongues, talking over the other in whiny high pitched voices, Telling tales so that NOW both he and Zabini were in HER hexing sites faster than Harry could catch the fucking snitch! Shit.

Her face had darkened, as she had raised her wand, and a sharp "Accio Wands!" Had rung out.

With a quick *snap* both of her small slender raised hands not only held her own wand, but, the shocked boys wands as well.

With a gentle pat to the two traitors lil' yellow backs, she threw a glare of death to the two now gob smacked boys.

It had not been so much that she now held their only means of defence, no, that's not what had both handsome jaws agape, no not that.

It was the way she looked!

Merlin�s Balls!

And Godric�s Willy!

She stood there, in a ratty, dingy, faded rose print pink flannel nighty, the numerous tiny pearl buttons buttoned up to her haughty slim chin.

Her long bushy hair had been rolled tightly with what looked like Muggle beer tins, (his Dad collected the bloody things so Ron knew one when he saw it) clipped to her head by big bulky gaudy silver pins, sticking out all over, making her look like one of those green alien creatures that Harry had in first year, read to him, from a Muggle newspaper that had declared, "Aliens Had Landed!"

Ron shuddered. 'This was the girl his Mum and Da wanted him to wed?

He'd rather marry Malfoy!

Hell even Snape was more attractive!

BLOODY HELL!

Like the aliens in the stories, Herms WHOLE small face was covered with this thick green gooey stuff.

Her brown eyes were slitted, and shooting sparks. Her arms now crossed, wands a hanging as she stood there, tapping one shabby bunny slippered foot, the motion causing the little smiling pink bunny head to wobble to and fro. Its tiny tattered grey ears wildly waggling.

The other bunny top on the other house shoe just fell over, like it had been Avada Kadavra�d, because some of the green slime on her face had dripped off, falling on the little pink head and flopped over grey ears.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" She'd screeched, doing a fair imitation of his own dear Mum.

"IF YOU AND THAT, THAT 'SLYTHERIN," she had sneered, narrowing her eyes even further as she pinned Blaise with a penetrating Topaz chipped stare.

Turning that 'look' back onto her friend, she bellowed so loudly Molly Weasley would have been proud, and Ron could have sworn Snape would soon be slithering up to them from the dungeons, handing out detentions, and deducting House points left and right.

"YOU HAVE SUDDENLY COZIED UP TO," she continued, not missing a beat.

"WISH TO Cavort,"

Merlin the way she said that sounded downright naughty!

"IN such a CHILDISH and DESTRUCTIVE manner? Go ahead, beat the BLOODY PISS out of each other, but? AS long as I AM HEAD GIRL? YOU WILL NOT threaten any other students, NOR will you hex up OUR COMMON ROOM DOING SO!"

Then, taking both Colin�s and Neville�s hands, she flounced off, leaving a green slime trail behind.

"Merlin, she's scary!" Murmured Blaise. "What a hag!" He snickered softly.

But, Ron�s ears picked up the slur against his friend, and with in seconds, he'd built up a nice head of steam. Once again, he verbally attacked.

"OH YEAH!? He bellowed. "WELL, , WELL, MALFOY is a bloody POOF! AND I STILL SAY, it WAS HARRY on the TOP, not the fruit cake! SO, SO there is NO WAY HE Let Malfoy TOUCH him, let alone TOP him! NO FUCKING WAY!" He screamed.

"HE BLOODY WELL COULD!" Blaise Zabini roared right back, his slender body quivering with anger at his new friend.

Weasley looked at Zabini as if he had just tasted polyjuice.

"OF Course now MALFOY, well, just looking at him, you, well, you know!"

Ronald Weasley sneered, shoving at the smaller boy. Soon, both Pureblood boys had resorted to acting like mere Muggles, shoving, taunting, daring, one up man shipping the other.

In other words?

Acting like two hormone charged teenagers, in need of a good tussle in the dirt, or roll in the sheets.

"For your information Weasley," Blaise ground out. "Draco, who is one of my oldest and dearest friends, is a very take-charge-kinda-guy!"

He snorted loudly, "If anybody topped last night, trust ME when I say, it was HIM not Potter in charge, and, the one now knocked up the duff is POTTER, NOT DRACO!"

Blaise Zabini screamed in Ron�s face, shoving a finger into Ron�s muscular chest, so hard he left an imprint on the messy black robe.

Ron just snorted back, sneering, "OH PLEASE! Malfoy is a bloody fruit! He's SO damn prissy! Scrawny too! Why, a good stiff wind woulda knock him for a loop!"

He stopped snarling, as a small smile flitted across his face.

"An, an Harry, now, Harry, he's a mans man!"

Grinning broadly now, showing even straight white teeth, he added,

"Why, he an me �ave been best mates since we was 11, an I know for a FACT he is Bloody fuckin straight mate! He ain't no POOF!"

His grin melting quicker than an ice cream cone in July, Ron now had hold of Blaise by his wrinkled robes and was shaking with anger.

His usually handsome freckled face was becoming more and more red, as the famous Weasley temperament once more reared its ugly mug.

Blaise felt a sudden flare of jealousy at the pretty smile that, at just the thought of Potter, was put on the redheads face.

It settled deep down into his gut, burning like the hit of a thousand bludgers as he realized a few hard facts.

Fact number 1. Weasley was straight.

His words and actions, those of the past, and those that had been thrown just now in his face, more than proved this to be true.

Obviously, when he and Weasley had had their bonding moment a few weeks ago when the taller boy had shyly, with a lot of stuttering, and then blushing an adorable hue had asked Blaise to join him at the Three Broomsticks for lunch and some butterbeers to help him plan the traditional Captains Bet.

They had had so much fun.

To Blaise, it had felt more like a first date than just two blokes kickin' back.

Inwardly, Blaise groaned, mad that he'd let the prat get to him, so quickly, and so easily.

Okay, Fact number 2. Weasley still worshiped 'perfect Potter'

(one of the many nicknames that Draco had graced the BOY-WHO-LIVED-TO-MAKE-THEM-MISERABLE.)

Fact number 3? Granger and Weasley AND bloody Potter were practically joined at the hip. How could he even compete with that?

He'd heard the scuttle butt from Both houses, the 'trio' were thick as thieves, no one, came between them. There were even juicy threesome rumors rolling around, all of which gave him a squicky nauseous feeling.

Dammit.

Enough was enough, and he, Blaise Zabini had had enough. MORE than enough.

It had been funny at the time, the idea that they both had hatched over a couple of butterbeers three weeks ago. They had giggled like school girls as they imagined both of their team Captains eating dinner together one minute, the next, not knowing who the fuck they were, or who the fuck the other person was!

It was a simple potion.

The results only lasted 30 minutes.

Ron had deemed it bloody brilliant! The prank of the century!

Well, Blaise had thought at the time, it WAS kinda funny.

But now?

Oh Merlin!

If they could do it over, all of it, he would in a heartbeat!

Because now? Because of his and Ron�s stupid prank?

Draco or Potter were now pregnant with a Wizards pregnancy!

Oh Merlin�s balls! They were SO gonna get expelled for this!

Ron, who was just about to clock Zabini one, noticed the smaller boy was suddenly quiet.

Too quiet.

When they had all awoke from their 'boy pile' earlier that morning, both he and Blaise had been very quiet, each trapped inside their own deep thoughts.

And, when Colin and Neville started whining, and asking stupid questions, both He and Blaise had threatened the young Gryffindors with a fate worse than a years worth of detentions with Snape, if they dared to breathe a word more about the whole mess.

Both boys had 'eeped' and made a hasty retreat to their rooms.

Or so they had thought. Instead, the little sneaks had run tattling to Herm.

Ah well, they probably deserved her wrath.

Especially after Blaise threatened Colin with a wand enema if he didn't 'go away, and shut the bloody fuck up!'

Ron sighed, and released Blaise.

Blaise sighed, he was gonna lose Draco�s friendship over this, of that he was certain, and that weighed heavily on his young heart.

Plunking down on the plump blood-red couch his long fingers combed through his blonde hair, over and over, until he suddenly clenched his hands tight, pulling, and began screaming.

Ron quickly sitting down beside him, reached up and gently untangled the shaking hands from the silky blonde hair.

'Wow, he thought, his hair is softer than 'Miones! And his hands are too! That's strange, cause he's a bloke.'

Ron was shocked to see tears falling down the other boys cheeks.

'Shit! It's bad enough when girls cry, and I always feel so awkward! BUT, what in the hell do I do now? Merlin! I guess I could comfort him like I do Ginny and Herm. Hope he doesn't punch me... truth be known, I wanna cry too.' Coz now, Harry�s gonna hate me, when he learns the truth.

"Mate," Ron began softly, clearing his suddenly thick throat he tried again. "Look, Zabini, er, Blaise, it, it's not all your fault. I won't let you take all the blame. I'm, Blaise, look at me, please?"

Ron pleaded, as he reached over and placed a slender finger under the sad boys chin, turning the small face towards him. Earnestly Ron asked, "You do believe me, right?"

Blaise looking up, searched that open friendly face, and penetrated Ron with a watery bright blue gaze. Shuddering at the gentle touch, and blushing slightly, he lowered his head, sniffled, and slowly nodded.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Back at the icy Room With a View

Shades of soft yellows and light oranges tumbled through the large open window, as gentle breezes fluttered along the beautiful long cream and light blue drapes, playing with the white fringe across the edges of the sky colored coverlet. As both boys studied the suns dancing rays on the blanket, Harry was fiddling with a loose thread. The air was so heavy with icy tension, you could feel it.

"Harry," Draco began. Reaching over to touch the tanned arm Harry had clamped tightly against his chest, as the other was now covered by the white sheet.

Draco could have sworn he saw Harry tremble, but when he looked again, Harry now looked like he'd been given a Petrificus Totalus curse instead.

Harry closed his eyes again, and fought down the rising panic, threatening to break out.

"Don't. Touch. ME. Malfoy." He spat, gritting his teeth so hard, he thought he'd chipped his molars.

Draco�s hand fell away as he snorted and mumbled something. "Snotwhachawesayinglasnite."

Irritated, Harry snapped, " In English please, Malfoy!"

Silvery blue studied intently the dark & cloudy emerald green gaze now staring back.

Harry had the insane urge to say, "made you blink", as finally, long blonde lashes swept down pale pink tinting cheeks.

Draco, slumping against the headboard, was now again staring back at the smaller teen. He drew a deep breath and replied, " I said, you hard of hearing Gryffindor, THAT�S not what YOU said, "smirking he couldn't help but add, "ah, make that 'screamed' at me, not to mention YOU shocking a FULL bar of your adoring BOY- WHO- LIVED- FANS, last night." He sneered.

Clicking his long slender fingers as if he suddenly remembered something, he smirked and added, " Ohhh, riiight, and um, TOM himself having to place a very powerful silencing charm on OUR door when you got pissed at me, yelling at the top of your bloody lungs for me to, "ride you big daddy, on your broom, outside in the moonlight," he drawled.

Draco rolled his mercury tinted eyes, remembering the smaller boys numerous antics, and sexual escapades.

Like how Harry had wanted to sneak back to Hogwarts grab his cloak and broom, and act out many fantasies, some of which had Draco blushing just at the mere memory. But, instead, he had to bite back a grin because Harry�s green eyes were now the size of saucers, of course reminding him of a little green someone.

Wonder where he is now?

Harry Potter was gonna hurl.

He had to get out of there, now. Fast.

Because, if he had to sit here and listen to anymore of Malfoy�s 'tales of HIS sexual abandonment', he'd hex him.

Badly.

Then, he'd end up in Azkaban, and then who would defeat Voldie? His mind on a fast spin, he bit down on his bottom lip, hard.

He wanted to cry, no, smash something. GOD! He was gonna kill Ron, then Blaise, then... BOTH bloody teams would taste his wrath! Bloody Captains Bet! FUCK!

His mind made up, he didn't even look at the other teen as he threw off the suddenly cloying coverings. His nostrils flaring as their mingled scent floated up to him, the musky sensual sweetness was powerful, teasing him, making him want to jump back into that bed, drag Draco down and under him and, CRAP! NO, he had to be the strong one.

He was NO good for the blonde, or anyone.

He was death.

Just ask his parents, Cedric, or the hundreds of Muggles and Purebloods that, that bastard Voldemort taunted and pranced across his mind through their link, every. bloody. night.

And, Harry had seen snatches of blonde hair through the white mask, and that tall figure, bowing, and kissing the Dark Lords hem.

A miniature, sexy, and oh, God help him hotttttttter yet younger version of that other man was now staring a hole in his back.

He could feel Malfoy�s penetrating glare as Harry jerked on and shimmied up his too tight leather pants.

AGGGH!

He wanted to strangle Hermione! It had been all HER idea for him to wear the stupid pour- him- in- black leather pants! Merlin! These bloody tight britches would be the death of him! He couldn't feel his balls.

Wiggling, unknowingly, he gave Malfoy a sexy little dance, as he shimmied, and wiggled some more as he twisted his slender 5' 11 inch frame into the evil black leather pants.

Finally, heaving a huge sigh of relief, his firm round little bubble butt was now once again snuggled into the skin tight garment.

Behind him, Draco, yawned. He wanted to gasp, and drool, but he covered that with a huge fake yawn. Unfurling catlike from the tips of his well manicured fingers to the tops of his even more well manicured toes, he yawned again, stretching his 6' 4 inch slender frame as he watched Potter with a mixture of ill concealed amusement, and flat out possession.

Resembling a Blonde Panther, sleek, muscular, and lithe, he stared at Potter through narrowed predatory silvery-blue eyes.

Harry sucked in his breath, and zippered up the rest of the way, fitting the silver button into the button hole with a finality that went straight to Draco�s breaking heart.

Harry turned sideways, bending over once again, this time to swipe up the emerald wisp of his shirt.

The material of the black leather pants pulling, stretching and forming in all of the right places.

Draco felt his breath catch at the mere beauty of that perfect little round arse. "MINE" growled his inner beast.

Merlin, but that boy was gonna be his death yet! Draco felt his heartbeat speed up, and his cock perk.

A small snort of frustration caught and brought his thoughts back to the here and now.

Draco noticing the grimace that now graced the Gryffindor�s fine features, watched as Potter put on his silk shirt.

Clearing his throat or he'd surely drown in his own drool, he croaked, "Ahm, Harry, we really should t..." frowning, he swallowed, took a deep breath, but Potter cut him to the quick when he shot back,

"Don't worry, or even bother bout it Malfoy. What�s done is done, drop it."

Reaching over yet again, that perfect arse taunting him, reminding him of just how hard and fast, then deep and slow he had rode said arse, with scattered mental images of the now- burned- in- his- mind- forever, memories of Potter OH So very sweetly begging him to.

He had had him, on his hands and knees, on his back, hells, they had even tried it upside down!

Potter was now threading his belt hastily through the loops of his pants, and a soft hiss of Parseltongue made Draco�s cock harden even more, causing the semi under the blanket to rise to a full house, as the snake language took over his senses.

FUCK!

He pulled a pillow out from behind him, and slapped it down on top of himself so as to hide his burgeoning bump.

After securing his belt, and trying to pull his balls out of his arse, 'stupid fucking pants', Harry�s hands shook slightly as he bent once again, to retrieve and put on his snitch socks, hoping from foot to foot, refusing to even sit on the bed, and then bouncing again, as he pulled on and then bent to buckle up his black leather boots.

One last time that cute arse was bent over. This time to snatch up his black school robe.

After throwing on the wrinkled robe, his hands shaking, he walked over to the dresser to pick up his wire rimmed glasses.

Setting them on his pert nose, he took a deep breath, steeling his heart, his mind and body for what he must now do.

What was it the Muggle singer Pat Benatar had said? Oh, yeah, right, Love is Battlefield.

And Harry Potter was fighting one of the biggest battles of his young life.

He could tell the young Slytherin wanted him. Merlin!

Releasing his breath, he moaned slightly, as memories over took him. Malfoy had been less than obvious of that very fact, even as young as 11, when they had both met.

That first time at Madam Malkin�s, Harry�s young heart had sung at the idea that such a sweet, and oh so handsome little boy was even interested in him, or anything he had to say.

All his young life he had been called a freak, ugly, no good, a waste of space. He'd never had any friends except a crazy old lady with too many cats, that sometimes baby sat him when his relatives wanted to get away, with out the burden of him.

Sometimes, those words stick, and sometimes, when your showed or told different, it's kinda hard to believe.

Harry had been tongue tied.

The handsome boy wanted HIS opinion, showing young Harry Potter his friendship. And as he'd never been asked it before, he'd been shy, and the little blonde boy had obviously felt snubbed.

Because it had hurt Harry�s young heart, the minute he saw the grey blue eyes grow cold, the tiny body stiffen in anger. Sometimes, you just know things. And Harry knew that Malfoy was meant to be his.

He was meant to be Malfoy�s.

He had felt it in his heart, the moment his green gaze clashed with a mercury one. But, in the real world, there were too many things that just could not be won.

In the real world, too many things could not be changed, and if love could save the day, why the hell did his Mom & Dad have to die?

No, Voldemort would not win another life because of him. His Draco would hate him, yes, but? At least he would live, he would not be destroyed by that monster, nor would he sully his fine Pureblood name, for linking it with the likes of his own.

Taking a deep breath, he could feel the tension. Good, he would use it, to set Draco free.

With his back once again to the Slytherin Sex God on the bed, Harry sealed their fate as he hissed,

" Malfoy, I don't know, how you drugged me, nor do I even care enough to want to remember the folly that was last night. As far as I'm concerned, this NEVER happened. You are lucky I do not report you to Dumbledore. You had to of slipped me something into my drink, for I would never on my own free will, do the things with YOU, that we did last night. I am thoroughly disgusted with myself."

As Harry walked to the door, he paused, his shaking hand on the door knob, his body angled so that Draco could not see the pain, nor his tears, nor the anguish on his face, nor the way he trembled.

'This should cinch it' He thought. Putting as much venom, and ice into his voice, he stated, driving in deep the wedge between them.

"If you EVER, ever, breathe a word of what took place in this room, or downstairs at the bar, YOU will regret it. I will MAKE sure YOU regret it. If you do not believe me, just ask your Father, Voldemort, or any other lackey he has, that has had the miss fortune to fuck with me."

Opening the door, Harry slipped outside, shutting it firmly behind him.

Inside, a young boy lay bleeding. You couldn't see the blood, but, it was there, flowing from his wounded heart and soul. A small sob escaped, and a lone crystal clear tear fell, as Draco Malfoy suddenly reared up, grabbing the first thing he saw, and hurled it at the door.

The little yellow vase smashed and splintered, sending water flying, and crushing the two red roses that Tom had placed there, for them. Red, like his broken bloody heart. Red like the haze that now covered his eyes.

On the other side of the door, a boy sat, silently crying. Wiping off the tears with a torn sleeve, Harry Potter got up, walked down the hall, down the stairs, and out of the door of The Leaky Cauldron, and out of Draco Malfoy�s life.

Back inside the Room With a View, the only sounds were faint, but you could clearly make out the "Fuck you Harry Potter!" The broken boy whispered in a choked voice.

Tom who had been about to bring up to his guests a tray of breakfast, sat the tray back down as he watched Harry walk out of his building, silent and as cold as a dementor.

He hadn't even said goodbye.

Removing Harry�s part of the meal, he had then walked up to the room, and had raised his hand to knock, when the words, "Fuck you Harry Potter!" had been tearfully uttered.

Shaking his shaggy head sadly, he'd then turned and went back down stairs, leaving the young Master Malfoy to his privacy.

History had indeed repeated it's self, and like before, it had been cruel.
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Long Strides to a Short Walk