Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You are my sunshine	By : LerDan Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3:

The days that went by was filled with heated conversations. No, not that kind of heated conversations, more of a Galleon heat conversations. They would message each other every now and then; share a laugh with each other, though Malfoy didn’t know with whom he was talking. Harry didn’t have a problem with that. None at all. He liked this side of Malfoy. Yes, they were still an ass towards each other in the school, but Malfoy didn’t know that he was talking to Harry. And if he finds out whom the ‘mysterious guy’ was Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he’d end up in the Hospital Wing. But other than that, Harry didn’t give Malfoy a clue from which House he was in. Such as now…

They were currently in their DADA lesson. Harry was sitting beside Hermione, who was writing furiously away, that is to say everything that would slip from Snape’s mouth Hermione would write it down. Ron was trying to keep up with Snape, but was failing miserably. And Harry, he was doodling away on a piece of a parchment. Suddenly, there was a heat on his thigh. Harry bit his lip and fetched the Galleon out of his pocket.

‘I’m utterly bored…’

‘Why?’

‘Snape is lecturing. And I’m bored. What do you have now?’

‘Free period.’ Harry lied quickly.

‘Lucky you. What are you doing then?’

‘Nothing, just up in my dormitory, resting.’

‘Still not gonna tell me which House you are in?’

‘I’m sure if you’d know you’d kill me.’

‘Why are you afraid of telling me who you are? I’m no monster.’

‘No, you aren’t. But because I like this side of you, I’ll still talk to you. Maybe someday you’ll know who I am, but for now, let’s keep this the way it is.’

‘But this isn’t fair.’

‘In what way?’

‘You know who I am, and I don’t know who you are…’

There was a ring, and it was the end of the class. Harry scrambled up to his feet and shoved his books into his bag. He still didn’t answer Malfoy. He didn’t know what to tell him. Harry frowned, this was getting more difficult. He was practically out of excuses of not telling Mafloy who he really was. There was still the animosity towards each other, and Harry still had to get his answers from Malfoy, without him realizing it. It was a very Slytherin move from Harry towards him, but he couldn’t help it. He really wanted to know if he was a Death Eater or not. But what if he found out about it…what would happen next? What was Harry going to do about?

‘I can’t tell you who I am…I’m sorry.’

And there was no answer from Malfoy. Harry looked up just in time to see him clenching his jaw in anger. Harry almost felt bad for making him stay in the dark. It wasn’t time for him to feel sorry for Malfoy. He shook his head and walked towards his next class. Potions. And with Slytherins. Great.

Harry sat at his usual seat, waiting for Malfoy to come and take his own seat by his side. He took out his Potions book and started to read what the Prince added to it. Harry was practically smitten by this Prince character. He had a really good writing hand and a wit that would make any Ravenclaw die with jealousy. He practically wrote on every Potion, making them his own. Harry had no objection of it whatsoever. This year he was the best in this subject, much to Hermione’s disappointment. And it wasn’t like he was using it all to himself, right? He was sharing it with Malfoy. Outside of this class they hated each other. More specifically Malfoy hated Harry, but Harry…there was some kind of subsided hatred towards the blond git. Some days Harry wanted nothing more than to bit the shit out of Malfoy, some days he wanted nothing more than going and talking to him, and some days he wanted nothing more than toy hug him.

These emotions confused him. He needed to talk to someone about this, but not now. Now, Malfoy walked in. He looked…well, Harry would gladly say attractive, but he blushed and got angry at himself for thinking that way. He was on a mission, and he wouldn’t stir away from that path.

Malfoy nodded in greeting and sat beside Harry, taking his notes and books out of his bag trashing them all on the table. Harry got even angrier as he saw Malfoy crossing the invisible line on the desk that they had drew for them.

“Do you mind?” snapped Harry and indicated to the book that clearly crossed the line, which was practically in front of Harry. Malfoy gave him a cold look and snatched his book away. Harry grunted and hunched over his book once more and started to read again. Professor Slughorn started the class with his booming voice, asking questions to everyone. It was his style of teaching.

Half-way through the class he jumped up as his Galleon heat up again. He looked sideways at Malfoy and saw that he was tapping it with his wand. It wasn’t the first time either when they’d had Potions together or Malfoy had to message him. And every time Harry would ask himself out so he could quickly answer to Malfoy. Such as now.

“Sir, can I go out for a minute please,” asked Harry already on his feet. Slughorn dismissed him with a wave of his hand and Harry quickly walked out of the classroom receiving weird looks from Ron and Hermione. Once outside he took the Galleon out and stared at it.

‘I couldn’t sleep last night…’

‘Do we have to talk about it now?’ asked Harry, already annoyed of Malfoy’s sudden talkativeness.

‘uhm…can we talk later about this, if you won’t be busy with class.’

Harry frowned at Malfoy’s tone, ‘yeah, sure, why not.’

‘Thank you…’

Harry smiled to himself, and slipped the coin into his pocket. He returned to the class minutes later as to not give him away. He sat beside Malfoy and chanced a look at the Slytherin’s face. Harry blinked as he saw that Malfoy was looking at him unblinking. Harry knew what was going to happen to him today. He was once again going to be threatened by Malfoy. What was he going to tell him this time? That Harry shouldn’t breathe at all? That, Malfoy would like very much. Harry shook his head miserably and took notes as Slughorn started explain to them about the Wolfsbane Potion. Apparently in next Potions class they were going to brew this and write an essay about it and werewolves too. Harry flipped his book open to that page and saw that there were no notes whatsoever about it. Prince, as it seemed like, hadn’t any problem with this one.

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to fail this one. He was sure of it. Unless Malfoy wouldn’t be a prat and they could…

“Malfoy?”

“mm”

“I was wondering,” he started and he was met by the steel grey eyes narrowing suspiciously on him, “Listen, there’s no instruction from Prince, the book I mean, for making the Wolfsbane. And I was wondering, maybe we could meet up sometime after school and do a small re-search?”

Malfoy looked at him blankly. The class ended with the traditional ringing of the bell. Everyone jumped to their feet hastily moving around trying to get out of the class as soon as possible so they could go to their next destination. Malfoy and Harry stayed where they were. Harry swallowed as he was drowned, once again, into Malfoy’s light-grey eyes. He shuddered as he saw the emotions playing there. He waited for a bit but when he didn’t receive anything from Malfoy, he shook his head sadly and gathered his books.

“You know what? Just forget it. I don’t know what I was thinking, really,” Harry was about to walk away when he felt a pressure on his arm. Looking up at Malfoy’s face Harry was struck at how attractive he truly was. He had a face of a Muggle model that Harry had seen in one of the magazines that Lavender Brown would just leave on the table in the Gryffindor Common Room. His grey eyes were cold, yes, but now that Harry knew the soft side of Malfoy, that he could be a normal human being, Harry could see the gentleness in them too. He could be a total ass to anyone, even to him, but Harry was sure if Malfoy would, one day, meet that stranger he had been communicating with, he’d let him be free. But because it wasn’t someone other than Harry, he was sure that Malfoy would kill himself first then to be the Galleon-Malfoy he had been. Harry almost forgot that Malfoy didn’t answer him; he was too occupied by his exploration of Mafloy’s face. Especially his lips; which were rosy and round and looked so delicious that Harry wanted nothing more than close the gap between them.

“I-” Malfoy spoke and the charm was broken, Harry looked down at the floor feeling the heat rising up his neck towards his cheek, flaming red. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling breathless. Malfoy had said yes! “I-I’ll message you?”

“Message me?” Malfoy asked his brow furrowing. Harry gasped as he realized what had he just said.

“I meant I’ll send an owl to you. My owl, Hedwig, the snowy white owl?” asked Harry, using his life-saving, distracting-people-from-my-big-mouth card, which was named after his owl Hedwig. Almost everyone was smitten by the bird, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he saw Malfoy smile on the mention of Hedwig. Which happened right now; Malfoy’s lips rose up into a small smile.

He licked his lips and answered, “I know Hedwig. She’s gorgeous, did you know?”

“Yeah, she is,” chuckled Harry and lifted his gaze to meet Malfoy’s eyes. He cleared his throat once again and adjusted the straps of his bag, “uhm…so I’ll send Hedwig to you this evening with time and place, is that alright?”

“Yeah…sure,” Malfoy shrugged and took his books and notes off the table, shoving them into his bag; he nodded curtly at Harry and walked out of the room. When Harry was sure that Malfoy wouldn’t turn back he broke into a big grin, and feeling very stupid of doing so.

00000

‘I had a great day, how about you?’

‘Me too…though the oddest thing happened today, but other than that it was good.’

Harry smiled to himself. He was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room, he was utterly bored, and being a Friday he didn’t have to do anything. So, he did the only thing that could help him to not be bored anymore; messaging with Malfoy. Harry still didn’t send him a note with the time and place to meet up with him. Well, he was nervous. They were going to study and do nothing more than that, but the fact that they were going to spend more time together alone, nobody around them, just the two of them…a shiver run down and up by Harry’s spine making him close his eyes and bit his lower lip.

This was madness, this was a mistake, this could be labeled as a tragedy…and yet Harry didn’t want to back down from the dangerous game he had made upon himself. He kept telling himself that he didn’t care about Malfoy, that this was simply a small mission for him to find out about Malfoy’s true side for the war.

‘I’m waiting for a note from…someone.’

The words seemed to freeze Harry’s insides. All the thoughts about Malfoy being a scum, a pussy and a Death Eater seemed to flow out of the window. Malfoy was waiting for him. Malfoy was waiting for Harry. The words seemed to replay in Harry’s mind. Harry took big steadying breaths and tried to tell his heart to steady itself back to normal.

‘I’m sure, that that ‘someone’ person will write you soon. A hot date?’ Harry couldn’t help but ask him about this and this was totally out of the line for Harry to ask Malfoy something like this. But to hell with it, a small part of Harry’s mind wanted to know what he was thinking about…them, about their study section.

‘A hot date? Hah! I wish. No, no just a small re-search for Potions with my partner in class.’

‘I wish.’ What does this mean? Harry sighed and frowned once again. He shook his head, took a piece of Parchment from the table in front of him and wrote a quick note to send to Malfoy about the time and place for them to meet.

“Harry, might if I borrow an ink from you? I’ve ran out of mine,” asked Ron from the corner desk that he was sharing with Hermione.

“Yeah, sure,” he dug into his bag and pulled out an inkwell and sent it to Ron.

“Cheers mate,” said Ron and turned back to his homework.

Harry walked up the stairs into their dormitory. Spotting Hedwig he walked towards her, who flattered her wings, preparing herself for delivery. He instructed her to take it to Malfoy and Hedwig hooted and took off at high speed. Harry took out his Galleon again.

‘You wish? Why?’

‘Because…well, it’s not your business mystery boy.’

Harry chuckled to himself. Malfoy was flustered about this. So, it meant that Harry wasn’t the only one who was nervous about their meeting. That was a bit comforting.

‘I have to go, talk to you later.’

Hedwig seemed to be doing a very fast work, and Harry thought at the next Hogsmeade visit he’ll by her an owl treats. He walked to his dresser and after a small journey into it he wore his favorite blue faded jeans, with a light cotton sweater, which was green. Harry didn’t want to wear something that would make Malfoy pick upon, but he did like the color and the sweater so he just shrugged it on, run a hand through his hair and walked out of the dormitory.

He walked towards the couch in the Common Room, picked up his school bag and walked out of the Tower; no one asked him where he was going, which was fine by him.

0000

Draco found Potter with his nose pressed into a book of Quidditch and the fact that he didn’t start the re-search made him extremely angry. He walked towards the Potions section and scanned through the titles searching about the potion they had to write an essay and then he walked towards the Dark Arts section to take all the books about Werewolves. Vermin’s that’s what they were; all of them.

With a disgusted look on his face he took the heavy books in his arms and walked towards where Potter was sitting still reading away. He placed the books in front of him with a snap, and with satisfaction saw Potter snapping his head up to look at him; his green eyes flashing.

“What the hell Malfoy? You nearly gave me a heart-attack!” cried out Potter, clutching his heart.

“Well, you should’ve started the re-search before I came here Potty,” sneered Draco.

“Don’t call me that, and I was just waiting for you so we could start it together,” grumbled Potter and adjusted the sprawled books on the table.

Draco sat opposite Potter and took the Potions related books towards him. “I will start from these books. And you’ll read about Werewolves. I quite remember you having a werewolf friend, don’t you?”

Potter didn’t answer; he just silently took the Dark Arts books to him and opened the first book of the pile silently reading on. Draco pursed his lips together eyes narrowing he turned his head down on the open book in front of him and started reading.

As time passed, Draco learned that Potter could be quite loud when he was doing something. He flushed at that thought but it didn’t stop him from thinking about it. When he was reading something and when he understood it he’d hum in approval, but when he didn’t understand something he would huff out a breath and with a low growl, which would make stir something inside of Draco, start to re-read the section. But other than that he was quiet, talking nothing.

Draco looked up at Potter and saw him playing with a lock of his untamed hair; it looked soft despite the messiness of it. Draco looked back down to his book, and resumed his reading.

Nature:

The completed potion exudes a faint blue smoke. According to some half-breeds, it has a "disgusting" taste, and adding sugar to remedy is not possible as that substance will render it ineffective.

Effects:

The potion does not cure lycanthropy but eases the symptoms, allowing one to hold on to their mental faculties after transformation (which would otherwise not be possible). However, it can have disastrous side-effects if the recipe is tampered with. It is said that on the full-moon werewolves take this, they still transform, but at least in some werewolf cases they still act human. They usually stay somewhere safe and sleep through the transformation.

Draco jotted this down on a piece of parchment and stretched. He was tired of reading and writing, but it seemed like Potter was doing just fine. As if on cue, Potter took of his glasses placed them on the book, and scratched at his eyes in a tired and almost adorable way. The thought made Draco blush and he looked down at his book again. A throat- clearing noise made him look up at Potter’s bright green eyes and the odd stirring started again in the pit of his gut.

“I’m done reading about werewolves,” Potter said, looking right through Draco who tried to nod, but failed. “Do you want to read about them? I can take care of Potions re-search…if you want to…that is…Malfoy?” Potter was calling him. He had to answer, but here he was sitting right in front of him, looking at him like a statue. “Malfoy, are you alright?” Potter now was concerned.

Draco cleared his throat and looked down at the book in front of him, “Yeah sure,” his voice was rough, he cleared it again, “here, take this one, and I’ll read that one?”

Potter nodded and passed him the book. Draco nodded in turn and started reading about the most disgusting creatures in the world. But his mind was elsewhere. Potter without glasses was absolutely breathtaking. Who would’ve thought that a frame would change a person like that? Draco shook his head once again, which he observed was doing this a lot lately, and tried to concentrate on the words in the book.

A werewolf, also known as a lycanthrope (from the Greek λυκάνθρωπος: Lan, lukos, "wolf", and ἄνθρωπος, anthrōpos, "man"), is a mythological or folkloric human with the ability to shape shift into a wolf or an anthropomorphic wolf-like creature, either purposely or after being placed under a curse and/or lycanthropic affliction via a bite or scratch from a werewolf, or some other means. This transformation is often associated with the appearance of the full moon, as popularly noted by the medieval chronicler Gervase of Tilbury, and perhaps in earlier times among the ancient Greeks through the writings of Petronius.

Werewolves are often attributed superhuman strength, speed, and senses, far beyond those of both wolves and men. The werewolf is generally held as a European character, although its lore spread through the world in later times. Shape-shifters, similar to werewolves, are common in tales from all over the world, most notably amongst the Native Americans, though most of them involve animal forms other than wolves.

Draco looked down at it, feeling rather sick all of a sudden. He remembered his encounters with that Grayback werewolf and felt sick all over again. He smelled like hell, and he was dirty and he’d never thought that someone as him could be labeled as a human being. Then he remembered their third year professor Lupin. He looked alright for him, but was he as human as they were? He didn’t smell, he didn’t have dirty clothes on, and he wasn’t as hairy as Grayback. He idly wondered if Lupin one day could become like Grayback; dirty, with sick mind, and as inhuman as he was. Draco shook his head, chanced a glance at Potter and wrote the words down from the book.

After some more re-search both boys sighed in unison exhausted and tired from all the readings they had done. Draco rubbed a knuckle over his eyes and blinked several times after it, trying to get his vision back to normal. And then he looked up at Potter who was watching him and blinked in surprise. Potter was watching him his lips parted, his cheeks flaming red. Malfoy frowned, “Are you alright, Potter?”

Potter only nodded and scrambled up to his feet, furiously shoving his notes and quills and inkwells into his bag, taking the Potions book he abruptly stopped. His breathing hard he looked at Draco with fire in his eyes, Draco swallowed and felt his heart starting to beat faster.

“I…” he tried to speak, but words failed him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, left it all out with a huff and walked fast-paced out of the library, leaving Draco look at him with bewilderment. Draco frowned and walked after him, jogging after him to be more specific.

“Potter!” he yelled after him. He didn’t know why he was going after Potter, but he wanted to know why he was acting so weird. “Potter, wait up!” he yelled after him and run after him, when he got closer he grabbed him by his elbow and forced Potter to stop. Breathing heavily he looked at him and shrugged his shoulders, and giving him a look that told him ‘what the fuck just happened?’ Potter only shook his head in response to Draco’s silent question. Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his noise. He heard, rather than saw Potter gasp in a breath and he looked up sharply at Potter, whose face was now flaming red. “Tell me what is wrong?” Draco insisted him. Potter’s behavior was interesting, mildly speaking, and whatever Draco wanted to know, he’d know in the end, even if it cost him to squish down his pride.

“I-It’s nothing, Malfoy, really,” said Potter, his voice hoarse, “J-just let me go, ok?”

“What? No. Tell me!” insisted Draco, now annoyed.

“I said let me go,” forced out Potter through gritted teeth.

“No,” he gripped Potter’s arm more forcefully and tightened his hold on it. He saw Potter flinch, but he didn’t let go. Next thing Draco knows he was roughly pushed up the wall, Potter on him, his face inches away from his. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless and shaky.

“Do you know what you do to me Malfoy?” he asked and moved his body closer to Draco’s, “Do you?” Draco swallowed hard, and looked at Potter’s fire-filled green eyes. He groaned quietly as he felt himself getting quiet excited because of Potter. He still had to answer Potter’s question, so feeling bold he shook his head. He was once again caught by surprise when Potter pushed his body up against him and Draco’s eyes widened as something rock hard brushed against his thigh. “Do you feel this, Malfoy?” he shoved his lower side to Malfoy, “Do you?”

“Y-Yes…” Draco gasped out, trying to stifle a moan by biting his lower lip. His eyes fluttering shut, he let out a shaky breath.

Potter stood there, frozen, his eyes wide, his lips parted and his cheeks still red. He was searching Draco’s face restlessly; his eyes lingered at Draco’s lips. Draco moistened his lips with his tongue and saw with satisfaction Potter doing the same. After a moment of thick silence Potter let out a shaky breath and, looking horrified backed away from him, turned and walked away from still surprised and quite aroused Draco Malfoy.
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You are my sunshine