Title: Tonight, Tonight
Author: Saskia Rose ()
Artwork: Prefect's Bath by Alice
Rating: R
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
His hand lightly rested against the wall as he softly whispered, "Pinefresh."
It slowly fell open, allowing their eyes to accustom to the muted light- compared to the pitch-black corridor, it was slightly alarming.
Harry blinked in surprise, still clutching the Invisibility Cloak around him. Of course, as Seventh Year Prefects, they were allowed to be using the Prefects' bathroom, but Harry suspected that this permission meant "prefect" in the singular. The last thing he wanted was to be thrown out of school just before he graduated; the last thing Draco needed was his parents to become aware of the situation. Which, undoubtedly, they would. Despite the disappearance of the Dark Lord, again, his followers were still everywhere, undercover, and neither Harry nor Drac oentertained the thought, even for a moment, that they wouldn't have any connections at Hogwarts.
He was nervous. But Draco just strode in as though he owned the place, and turned to Harry in the dull light. "Nervous, Potter?" he asked, in a sarcastic sneer, reminiscent of all the times he'd taunted him over the previous years, now intended as an icebreaking joke. He noted, with slight relief, that the mermaid, in her portrait on the wall behind Draco, was soundly asleep. The last thing he wanted was an audience.
"No." Clearly, the other boy's face was going red.
"We won't get caught. Trust me." The cheek. The nerve. The confidence. However, unlike as it had been in their previous six years, Harry no longer loathed it. He realised that the confidence was like a lot of Draco's other behavioral traits- all for show. Underneath he was probably even more nervous, if there was such a thing, than he was. He had more to potentially lose if they were caught.
But part of the excitement had been the thrill of sneaking around, as though they'd have to justify the two of them together to anyone who might see them and dare to ask what they were doing. As it had been for the last few months.
The idea of sneaking into the Prefect's bathroom together had come largely because of frustration.
"We don't get any time together," Harry had murmured one afternoon, as they sat in a secluded spotby the Forbidden Forest.
"We're spending time together now," Draco had said with a shrug, although he was aware of what Harry really meant. Around them, the whole school seemed to be able to parade their affections for one another-Dean and Seamus walking down corridors hand-in-hand, Ginny Weasley giving Neville Longbottom a quick kiss before bedtime, Ron and Hermione giggling together like a couple of lovesick teenagers. Even Pansy Parkinson Greg Goyle- two students who were seemingly the most unaffectionate people at Hogwarts- when they'd paired off in Sixth year, everyone knew about it.
It was sickening, Draco privately thought. It only intensified the fact that he and Harry had to remain in the shadows together. And the bitterness he felt towards everyone else who could be open about their love, it stung.
This had been his idea. Harry, although something of a rebel with a healthy level of disregard for the rules, hadn't even considered the notion.
"You want to do what?" he'd asked, his moss-green eyes flicking wide open as though Draco had suggested a decidedly kinkier use for his Firebolt.
"Use the Prefects' bathroom," he'd replied simply, failing to hide a smirk at Harry's lack of imagination. Surely Harry had thought about it...He certainly had, every time he'd crept into the Prefects' bathroom alone to make use of the facilities.
"We'll get in trouble."
"That's never bothered you before." He raised an eyebrow at Harry; "You've been sneaking around doing all sorts of things after hours since first year, if I correctly recall. Why are you so paranoid about this?"
"Because of ...you... What if someone found out?"
"Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." It was that confidence. Don't worry about me...
Harry knew that he couldn't help but worry about Draco, even though he was vaguely aware that his primary motivation for worrying was pure selfishness. If Draco was caught... it would surely mean the end of what they'd had for the last six months. And Harry didn't want that. And something made him sure that Draco didn't, either.
But the enticement of having Draco, alone, all to himself, for an evening... it was too much. Sheer desireovercome fear, and with a wicked grin, he muttered "Okay."
"I knew you'd wind up saying that," Draco had said, still smirking, "Eventually."
The thought of their tryst had left Harry preoccupied the entire day leading up to it. Hermione and Ron, growing increasingly suspicious about their companion's behaviour over the past few months, didn't notice it to the degree Harry himself did- they already thought that last years' run-in with Voldemort had broken him to a degree, and left him a silent, solitary shell of the Harry they'd previously called their best friend. It wasn't that at all. It was the fact that he'd found it easier not to say much to anyone, fearing they'd detect the enthusiasm in his voice, terrified they'd notice the way his head would automatically turn in Draco's direction mid-conversation, completely horrified that they'd pick up on the way Harry's lips would twist themselves into a smirk reminiscent of Draco's, whenever someone mentioned the name Malfoy around him.
It had been easier, Harry thought, much easier, to feign distance and a need for solitude than to try and keep a lid on what he felt for Draco.
And now it had culminated in this.
Harry was uncertain if it was solely nervousness at the possibility of being caught by someone which was causing him to tremble, while Draco waltzed around as though he always snuck other people into the bathroom to enjoy their company. In the few months they'd been involved with one another, there had been no space for intimacy in the vast grounds of Hogwarts. There was always someone hanging around, there was always some sort of time constraint or class to go to, if that wasn't a concern, and it usually was, there just wasn't the right sort of atmosphere for romantic activities between them. Even the showers in the Quidditch change rooms- which had a reputation since Colin Creevey and Eloise Midgeon had been caught using them "inappropriately," as Professor McGonagall had described it with wide-eyed disgust- were out of the question. The only times Slytherin and Gryffindor had played one another on the pitch, the two Seekers' teammates had been ostensibly slow in getting out of there after the game, leaving neither of them in privacy. Every so often, there were slight moments of intimacy between them; nudges in classes; apparently accidental bumps into each other; the odd smile disguised as a hateful smirk. Their "hatred" was now a language that the rest of the school's inhabitants couldn't speak or comprehend. It had become a private in-joke, one of the few things that they'd been able to share which was theirs alone.
Then there had been even rarer, even more precious moments. An occasional kiss stolen behind the broomshed after Harry had secretly watched Draco and the Slytherins training one day; moments of whispered sweet nothings on a Saturday when almost everyone had disappeared to Hogsmeade that one weekend; even Valentine's Day- when each of them received an "anonymous" greeting that morning at breakfast. But never before had there been something like this. Harry had never been this eager to share himself so willingly, so passionately, with anyone else. Emotionally, physically, mentally; although he was in full realisation that somewhere along the line, Draco Malfoy had stolen his heart and claimed it as his own.
The tension and pressure, yes, pressure of the inevitable tonight, was driving him to tremble like a sapling in the wind. Half excited to finally be able to release this... energy... and passion he'd had solely for his partner, yet half terrified that things would somehow go wrong, that he wouldn't be good enough had him petrified. For he knew the line Draco Malfoy threw about so carelessly. We Malfoys only have *the best*. He was aware that Draco had had his share of flings and sexual encounters with several other people, and feared that his own lack of experience in such matters would put him off.
Draco didn't seem to share Harry's nervousness. He seemed highly enthusiastic, and judging from the expression on his face, he felt already certain that he was definitely going to be enjoying himself later that night.
"If you're not nervous, why are you shaking then?" he asked, shaking his robes off and leaving them discarded in a heap by the door which he closed behind them.
"Okay," admitted Harry, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks again, "I am. A bit."
"Why?" The Slytherin looked genuinely puzzled.
"I haven't done anything like this before." Harry felt like undressing then and there, despite his nerves. He felt uncomfortably hot with embarrassment.
"Well... neither have I." Draco flashed that confident, flirtatious smile at him once again, but instead of it reassuring Harry, it only made him feel even more nervous.
"I mean, I've never..." he coughed slightly, "You know."
"No I don't." Draco shrugged, as he began inspecting the empty bath. On a previous occasion when he'd used it, he'd found a Magical Bandage stuck to the bottom. The last thing he wanted was something like that killing the mood.
Harry found it easier talking to Draco when he wasn't looking him in the eye. "You know... had... sex..." He was mortified, and he expected at least a smirk, if not a hearty chuckle from Draco, and was surprised when he didn't receive it.
"That's your biggest concern?" Draco asked, "That you're a virgin?"
"Yes."
"That's good, then," he said with an impish smile. "You can learn everything from someone who has the art of great sex right down to perfection."
"Is there anything you can't show off about?" Harry asked, grinning slightly, as Draco turned on the taps to fill the bath.
Inwardly, he smiled. His comment had served its purpose- it had diffused some of the tension in the room. Harry was looking slightly more at ease.
"Do you realise," he asked, "That I have never waited this long for someone? I've gotten sick of them well before this point if there's been no sign of physical intimacy from them."
"Am I meant to take that as a compliment or an insult?" Harry ran his fingers through his hair, staring at Draco's legs. He wasn't used to seeing him without his robes on.
"What do you think?" A glimmer of a smirk played across the blonde's face as he began thinking about just exactly what he had in store for Harry. His bewildered, nervous expression gave an indication that he truly had no idea.
"The truth of the matter is, Mr. Potter, I have viewed this opportunity as being worth waiting for. I am yet to have had any feelings close to that for anyone else I've been involved with."
Harry remembered the rumors about a Hufflepuff girl who was allegedly heartbroken when Draco had left her after three weeks. It didn't surprise him at all. Draco was a person of sheer hedonism, he seemed to require instant gratification in everything he did. Just that comment alone from him, however, had convinced Harry that This. Was. Serious between them.
He'd said it so coldly and with so little concern. But Harry knew that Draco was often like that when it came to the important things. Discussing emotion like that was something that neither of them had been much good at.
"Well?" The bath was full, and Harry stared into its depths, wondering with delicious anticipation what would happen next. They hadn't even so much as kissed that night, prior to this moment. It was a luxury which they were both aware of: they'd never had this much privacy, nor this much time on their hands alone; they could afford to take as long as they wanted.
Draco was aware of the tension, and longed to just grab the dark-haired Prefect, tear his robes from him, and ravish him on the spot. But, in a twisted sort of way, he appreciated the way he was able to prolong it, watching Harry growing slightly more relaxed with every moment, yet hoping it wouldn't be too many moments later before he was lulled into a sense of sheer bliss and want. Sheer temptation. Sitting right there in front of him.
"You aren't planning on just sitting there all night, are you?" he asked. He was flirting again, and motioned for Harry to move closer towards him. He's so nervous. He smiled slightly; there was an incredibly touching innocence in Harry's uneasiness. He remembered his own first time... it had seemed far-off and as though it was decades ago. A quick feel up and a few hurried, perfunctory kisses, and Terrence Higgs had taken him in the Common Room when everyone else was asleep in their dormitories. He tried to remove that image from his mind- it wasn't meant to happen like that, and it certainly wasn't going to be the sort of way Harry remembered his first time. Not if he had anything to do with it.
"No," Harry eventually replied. He was suddenly nervous again, and under Draco's interested, slightly amused gaze, he felt completely naked. Never mind the fact that he was still fully clothed.
"We don't have to do this," he said gently, instantly regretting those words, expecting Harry to stand up and walk out in a second. But the Gryffindor Prefect just sat by the edge of the swimming pool-sized bath and looked up at him. "No," he said, "I do want this."
As if to make that point clearer than crystal, he awkwardly slipped his robes off, and sat back down again, a slightly giddy, still nervous look on his face.
That one expression was too much for Draco. He'd been pushed right to the limit with the coyness of the situation, and he wanted Harry now. "Water's getting cold," he said, quickly unbuttoning his shirt, discarding it carelessly. He began undoing his pants in a similar manner, and watched with amusement as Harry watched him, his eyes widening with undeniable want, completely spellbound. Instantly, without a thought, he began undressing, all the while those deep green eyes transfixed on Draco's perfect frame. He stared in awe, as Draco, bathed in that misty velvet light, slipped soundlessly, into the water. It wasn't even a second, it seemed, before he'd joined him.
He slipped his glasses off and edged towards him, taking in the warmth of the water and the Slytherin's gaze, exhaling deeply, clearly aroused. This was definitely too much for the both of them. All those months of nothing but play-acting and occasional, barely noticeable contact had left them practically aching. And it was all going to stop right now.
They caught each other as they moved together ,gliding through the water, enraptured, their arms wrapped around each other as though this gesture was something ordinary which they'd done so many times before. Harry's heart was pounding- so strongly that he felt as though it echoed through the spacious bathroom, could feel it causing the water's surface to quiver. Draco clearly didn't seem to notice- or care-as he pulled Harry as close to him as he could, running his hands through that messy black hair, kissing at his lips hungrily. It had been too long. And finally their moment had arrived, to allow themselves to get away from the stifling, omnipresent essence of the rest of the school, and to move into a world of their own making.
Clearly, Harry felt the same way- that was the only explanation for the way he was clinging to Draco, their bodies meshed together in a tangle of arms and legs and hair, desperate not to let go of him, even to catch his breath. His mouth had fallen open- partly in amazement, partly in sheer ecstasy from the way Draco's tongue was maneuvering itself around him, and he was conscious of the fact that he wanted nothing more than to be completely consumed by him. A low moan came from somewhere deep in his throat, startling him slightly.
"You. Feel. So. Damn. Good..." Draco's words, barely audible, came between kisses delivered to Harry's neck. He was barely paying attention as Draco's mouth moved closer to that extra-sensitive spot just beneath his earlobe, his warm breath tickling him, as his hands strayed lower, teasing down his back and running across his body under the water. Harry felt himself breaking away slightly, only to be seizing him in another passionate embrace, his senses overpowered with everything that was Draco Malfoy. All he could feel was Draco... in his arms, around his back, pressed against him... all he could see was the blond's concentrated, ravenous grey eyes focused on him... all he could taste was his sweet saliva mingled with possibly a hint of black coffee from after dinner... and all he wanted... was for Draco to claim the rest of him as he had his heart so many months ago.
Draco glanced up as Harry snuggled against him, an expression of unrivalled passion gleaming in those green eyes. His hair had somehow gotten soaked and it fell behind him, dripping down his back as Harry's fingers played with the golden strands.
He could have sworn he noticed a flicker in the eyes of the mermaid in the picture, but he ignored her, turning back to meet Harry's gaze instead.
"This was a good idea," Harry breathed, lazily stretching a leg in front of him, breaking the water's surface.
"I aim to please," Draco said with a smug smile, "At least, in this instance I did."
Harry grinned. "And you haven't before?"
"I don't think you really want to hear the answer to that." Another smirk, and Harry found himself falling back into Draco's arms, into a barrage of kisses and soft moans, waiting for the rest of the night's promises to come to fruition.