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Smoke Among the Stars	By : WinterRaven Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 7501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter universe. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter and thanks to all my readers! This is the final chapter of this story. Please feel free to send any writing critiques my way, especially if anything is unclear here. I will be working full time on Endurance from now on. Expect an update on that story in a few days. Enjoy this chapter!

“We find out the heart only by dismantling with the heart knows.” – Jack Gilbert

Chapter Seven – Smoke Among the Stars

The sun filtered in hard and harsh the following morning. Harry groaned when he felt the light hit his closed eyes, almost burning through his eyelids. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was, whose soft bed he was sleeping in, the feel of the squishy mattress beneath his curled body—

Oh my God.

His eyes snapped open in shock and he felt his heart hammering wildly in his chest. What he expected to see was Draco lying across from him, perhaps fast asleep or awake and just as stunned as Harry. But there was no other person there. A pillow remained before him and the ruffled comforter with indents and wrinkles, evidence that he had not been entirely alone.

Where did he go?

Harry sat up slowly and flinched, feeling immense pressure in his forehead. His hand flew up to his temple, fingers massaging the throbbing there. Panic overtook him as he tried to fight off the pain and remember the events of the night before. Harry glanced down at his body and noted he was clothed except for his shirt; he remembered the stench of liquor, the sound of crying and the feel of a body pressed to his—

“Morning,” came Draco’s voice from behind him. Harry froze, his back suddenly stiff. “I was wondering when you’d finally wake up.”

Harry’s heart beat too hard at the sound of Draco’s voice. It was so different than he was used too—soft, kind, even concerned. Harry forced himself to slowly turn around to face the other young man. The blonde was standing in the doorway of his room, a few feet from the bed. He was leaning luxuriously on the frame, the perfect picture of elegance and a purebred upbringing. He wore an emerald green robe with Slytherin’s serpent embossed on the right side.

In between his thin fingers, Draco held a goblet of steaming potion.

“Thought you might need some of this,” the blonde said as he strode over to Harry, holding out the potion.

Harry gulped and tried to master his breathing. Without a word and with a shaking hand, he took the goblet from Draco’s fingers, downed its bitter, warm contents in one swallow. Harry had never felt more aware of his body than in that moment—the self-consciousness that came with his throat contracting, the liquid spilling down; how his eyes shut for the briefest of moments, trying to calm his entire body by closing off the stunning sight before him; how when he opened his eyes again, it was to find Draco staring at him with a strange look, the blonde’s gaze roaming Harry’s face in a hungry way as if trying to memorize every detail.

“Thanks,” was all Harry could whisper. He felt as though there was a lump in his throat. Harry placed the empty goblet down on the bed awkwardly, feeling his bones squeaking in nervousness.

Draco did not respond immediately. The two boys stared at each other for a long time.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” Draco finally asked. His voice still had that soft quality.

“Sort of—”

But Draco didn’t let him finish.

He had moved forward quickly but calmly, and chastely pressed his lips to Harry’s. Harry gasped in shock but did not move—he couldn’t, even if he willed it. The feel of Draco’s mouth to his, kissing so tenderly, so lovingly was too much for his exhausted body to handle.

Harry’s eyes fluttered shut when he felt Draco’s fingers caress his cheek. He moaned quietly and felt Draco smile against him. And Draco’s other hand came up and cupped his face, the kiss intensifying, Harry lost in this feeling that was Draco’s tongue dipping into his mouth, their mouths moving with intense slowness, almost a synched dance, almost as though they had done this many, many times before.

When they broke apart, both were gasping for air.

“What was that?” Harry whispered, his eyes wide with shock.

Draco shrugged, his face flushed.

“I just…wanted to,” the blonde whispered back.

Harry surveyed him, gaping. His mind was racing; he could feel the cogs in his brain working to sustain coherency.

What’s happening to me?

He had never felt this comfortable in front of someone so immediately, though he was terrified of what it meant… He had never wanted to lean back into a kiss so badly, had never allowed someone to do what Draco had just done to him. But he stared into the crystal eyes of his former enemy and the insanity situation struck him even harder.

I just kissed Draco Malfoy … and I liked it.

“What are we… what are we doing?” Harry asked, his voice cracking.

And what about last night?

Draco cocked his head slightly as if confused.

“I don’t like to question things too much, Potter.”

“You just go with the flow then, do you?” Harry retorted back with a snort. Imagining Draco being relaxed in any capacity was almost impossible for him to muster.

But Draco merely placated him with a grin.

“Want to go for a walk?” the blonde asked playfully.

“No,” Harry said quickly. He shook his head of messy black hair. “No, I want to talk about last night.”

Draco closed his eyes and sighed.

“Okay,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes before opening them again. “We’ll talk.”

He climbed into the bed next to Harry, putting his hands in his lap. Harry gaped at him, noting for the first time that Draco was as nervous as he. The blonde bit his lip, worried it a little with his straight, white teeth before letting go. His red cheeks were jarring against his milky skin, the ways his eyes darted from Harry’s own to his mouth, waiting.

“I…I’m just trying to figure out… what this is,” Harry said lamely. He cursed himself as the words left his mouth.

God. I sound so stupid.

Draco said nothing so he continued, trying to edit his words more carefully this time.

“I mean, okay. I know we got pretty wasted last night. I know we made out. I know…” Harry gave a deep sigh. “I know what happened between us.”

The crying. Your scars. The way you held me. You said you forgave me.

“Does that bother you?” Draco whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe we went about this the wrong way then,” Draco said. “Maybe we should try again.”

“What—”

“Instead of getting drunk and saying everything we’ve ever wanted to say to each other, we should try again. Sober this time.”

“You—you’d do that?” Harry asked, caught off guard. “Why?”

“I like you,” Draco said, his voice bold and commanding. He looked at Harry carefully.

“I…I like you too.”

Draco gave a soft smile at Harry’s admission.

“Must we analyze every single thing that happened then?” the blonde whispered.

Harry sighed.

“I…I don’t know,” he said. “But you have to admit, it is remarkable that we’re in this situation.”

“Is it?” Draco shot back.

“Of…of course,” Harry said, his voice a little shaky at the hard look in Draco’s eyes. “You and I…we—I mean we just admitted we liked each other—”

“Jesus, Potter, you’re acting like you’ve never liked someone before.”

Harry flushed.

“I haven’t,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

Draco cocked his eyebrow.

“Come again?”

“I said… I haven’t,” Harry repeated.

“Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“Ha,” Harry whispered under his breath. His eyes met Draco’s again and he asked nervously, “This…this doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“That I’ve never really…done this with anyone?”

Draco sighed.

“If it bothered me, I would have said so by now,” Draco said softly. “Trust that I want to be in this situation.”

“I do.”

“Good. Then, I’d like to spend the day with you. Let's go for a walk,” Draco said as he slipped off the bed. He pressed a quick kiss on Harry’s cheek before Harry could react. “You should shower and dress. I can get you a fresh set of clothing—we’re probably similar sizes.”

“Oh,” was all Harry said.

Draco smiled and turned to walk out of the room again but something overtook Harry, something primal and full of fear.

“Did you mean it?” came Harry’s nervous, quiet voice. “What you said last night?”

The blonde had frozen mid-step but he reoriented himself quickly, turning on his heel to face Harry again. His blue eyes were shining.

“Yes,” Draco whispered. “I meant every single word.”

~*~

Years later, when Harry would later reflect on those first few hours with Draco by his side, he’d always feel the same thing—disbelief. He would always be amazed that he and Draco fell into such a simple, comfortable pattern with each other. He wouldn’t forget the way Draco smiled at him or his soft laugh; the way he ambled quietly by Harry’s side as they took a more hidden route on the Hogwarts lawns that afternoon; the way the two sat in amiable silence for hours after on the grass, letting the wind wash over them.

Harry would always find himself asking the same question.

How did this happen?

Because, in that first night together the two managed to communicate so much without words, with the sweetest of touches or a gesture or a look. Because they managed to enjoy each other even as they received strange looks from others. Because they went back into the same bed that night, this time sober, their bodies still linked around each other’s. Because Harry loved the feel of Draco’s soft kisses over his eyelids or the way their fingers found each other’s in the night. Because the next morning, he woke up in a tangle of arms and legs, the feel of Draco’s heartbeat near his ear, the sound of it pulsing through his own body.

Harry stretched out from underneath Draco’s arms that morning and glanced upward as the sunlight began to come into the bedroom—Draco’s eyes were closed, his breathing even, his lips parted slightly.

I don’t know what this is but I won’t question it.

He wouldn’t question the barrage of kisses that would meet him later when Draco awoke; the first time they made love; the fear he felt when—after a few weeks of hiding out with Draco—he told Ron and Hermione what had been happening; the trepedation that came when he and Draco were out in public together, when they sat with each other in the dining hall.

He let it happen. All of it. And on that first sober morning together he stopped questioning everything—Ginny, if he was gay, his romantic past, what had happened between he and Malfoy all those years…

Harry could only grin as Draco awoke and glanced down at him, as the two moved to be in line with each other, as they kissed, as the blissful feeling spread throughout Harry’s body, through his fingers and toes and chest.

He was sure of one thing.

This is love.

~* Fin *~
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Smoke Among the Stars