Title: One Way to Find Out
Author: Vidunder ()
Artwork: Picture by Diana Sprinkle
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.
Notes: here it is - my first fic and my first challenge fic :) This scribble is dedicated to Diana Sprinkle, who draw a wonderful picture that made me smile.
It was no secret that every year on the last day of the spring term, there was a huge party in the Gryffindor common room. All the Gryffindors, of course, were there and plenty of students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff also. The kitchens were raided, so that there was a great variety of food and drinks, and even butterbeer and few bottles of whiskey usually had found their way to the party.
On the morning after the party, Harry looked at his reflection in the mirror. He could as well have gotten up from a grave rather than a bed, since he seemed to resemble more a zombie than anything that was alive. He tried to force his memory to recall the events that had passed last night, but could not remember a thing. But judging by the size of the black circles under his eyes, it had been anything but sleeping.
Slowly, but steadily, the time of departure grew nearer and before Harry could know it, he was standing at the Hogsmeade train station with Ron and Hermione by his side, waiting for the summer vacation to start.
The train station was always a hectic place before the holidays, and this morning was no exception. Harry watched the youngest students run back and forth laughing, too eager to stand still. The older students were a bit more calmer, casually chatting with each other and double-checking their bags and chests, but even they were constantly smiling. The summer was here, and despite his tiredness Harry felt a ghost of a smile lurk on his lips.
As the train pulled to the station, the crowd surged forward and Harry lost sight of Ron and Hermione. He searched the crowd with his eyes, but then gave up and decided to find an empty compartment from the train and wait for them there. If they did not find him, he would go looking for them after the train had started moving.
The train seemed to be almost full already, and Harry had to walk almost through the whole length of it before he could find an empty compartment. He entered the compartment and threw his school bag on the red bench. I'll just wait here before I go looking for them, he thought. Harry sat beside the window and leant his head against the compartment wall. From the window he could see the almost deserted train station and the few last students rushing towards the train.
Before he stop himself, he felt his eyelids start drooping. It was like someone had put lead weights on them and sprinkled a sack-full of sand in his eyes. No use fighting, he thought grimly. I'll just rest my eyes a bit, I won't fall asleep. He closed his eyes and shifted his body to a better position. I won't sleep, he thought.
But then, he was already dreaming.
* * *
...And the wind was blowing, a cold wind. The grass felt cold and prickly against his bare skin, but that did not matter. He could hear the creepy crawlies, he could hear all the little lives sidling in the ground around them. But he was not scared, nor cold because the sun was warming him. He could feel the fiery flames caressing him with unbelievable lightness. He wanted to open his eyes, wanted to look at his sun. But if he did, he would go blind.
And he held his eyes closed tightly, painfully, and held them closed even when he felt the hot tears running down his face...
* * *
Something changed, and he woke up. Harry opened his eyes, but could not see a thing. Then the train pulled out of the tunnel and the warm sunlight streamed in from the window. His eyesight was still blurred with drowsiness, but he could sense someone else in the room. Shaking off the shadows of his dreams, he looked around.
And the first thing he saw was a certain Draco Malfoy sitting on the bench opposite him, wearing the most curious expression on his face. The Malfoy looked like someone had told just him that he had been appointed the Ultimate Ruler of the Universe, but the blond boy seemed unable to decide whether to be an Evil Dictator or a Good King. The grey eyes of the boy glinted with ominous joy and mischief, and the look on his face was enough for Harry to make him reach for his wand, just in case the Slytherin had finally lost it.
Harry was just about to draw his wand and say something, hopefully threatening, when Draco seemed to suddenly recompose himself. The spectrum of emotions vanished from his face without a trace and was replaced with a familiar sneer. "Potter, did you know that you speak when you're sleeping?" he said with a strangely hoarse voice.
Inside Harry, his spleen suddenly turned into a popsicle.
Of course, he did know about his bad habit of talking in his sleep. Everybody who knew him, knew about it. The other boys in his dorm room had gotten so tired of his babbling that they had asked Professor McGonagall to give him a room of his own. Well, he hadn't got one, but Hermione had thoughtfully cast a silencing spell around his bed.
But the fact that Draco now knew about his sleep-talking was not the reason why his entrails were suddenly resembling the contents of somebody's freezer. It was what he had said that made him turn to ice.
Before Harry could think up a believable enough answer, Draco was already speaking again. That boy really does love the sound of his own voice, Harry thought idly. "You know, for such a squeaky-clean little Gryffindor you have an amazingly dirty mind," the other boy said, and his grey eyes sparkled with dangerous mischief.
And Harry's liver decided to join the polar expedition.
"Er, I... I don't know what you're talking about..." Harry tried desperately to sound convincing. "I, umh, I never talk in my sleep, never..."
"Oh, come on, Potter! You don't really expect me to believe you?" the blond boy sneered. "I know what I heard, and I know what it meant."
Oh god, what did I say? Harry thought with a rising panic, and hoping his kidneys would stop skating along his spine.
Harry looked Draco straight in the eyes, trying to determine what the boy was after. But the Slytherin held his composure perfectly and revealed nothing. They stared at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to react.
Finally, Draco broke the silence. Without breaking the eye contact, he got up to his feet and folded his arms over his chest. He stood right in front of Harry, with a little smile curling the sides of his mouth. "I think you fancy me, Potter," he announced as casually as he could.
For a moment, all activity in Harry's brain stopped. A minuscule what? floated around his comprehension, and then it sank in.
Suddenly, his frozen bowels melted and then continued to catch fire. He drew out his wand and pointed it straight towards Draco's heart. "No I don't, what makes you think that, you take that back right now!" he bellowed, his whole body shaking with suppressed rage.
There are not many people who can look Death straight in the eyes and not blink. And as Malfoy stood in front of the outraged Harry, he seemed to be one of them. The smile on his lips didn't waver, it seemed instead to brighten a bit, and he stood in his place as steadily as ever. "Well, excuse me, but I think you do."
Harry felt his anger fade before Draco's indifference. He lowered his wand, but didn't pocket it. "Then you must have misunderstood what you heard because I definitely don't fancy you!"
The smile on Draco's lips widened into a full out grin. "Oh, you think so? Well, may I ask what did you mean when you said..." Draco cleared his throat "...'Lick it, Malfoy, I know you want to. Oh please don't stop, oh, oh, please don't stop.'" Now he was grinning like a maniac.
Harry felt himself turn white and hoped he was not going to throw up. "Urgh... we, umh, we were... sharing a lollipop?" he choked desperately.
Malfoy, who was still hovering before the horrified Harry, burst out laughing. "But why would you be sharing a lollipop with me, anyway?" he snickered.
"Perhaps it was some other Malfoy?" he tried again, but instantly corrected himself. "Wait, all you Malfoys are disgusting, and I don't even know any other Malfoys than you... Except your father and, oh my God, that was the most disgusting thing ever." Harry forced himself to stop talking as everything he said made Draco just laugh more loudly.
Finally the blond boy collapsed on the bench behind him, exhausted from laughing. "Well, that was certainly fun," he said after he had gotten his breath back. Draco ran a hand through his hair and watched Harry with a strange glimmer in his eyes.
While Draco had been busy laughing, Harry had had some time to arrange the smoldering remains of his thoughts. "You know, you can't prove that I like you," he said, without looking at Draco.
Draco got up again and, before Harry could stop him, sat down beside him. He stretched his long legs in front him and leant his back against the bench. He was sitting so close to Harry, that he could feel the warmth emanating from the boy. Too close, he thought, but could not make himself to move away.
"Actually, I know how to prove it," Draco said with a soft voice.
Harry glanced sideways at the boy beside him. "How?"
Draco did not answer right away, and Harry turned to look at him expectantly. The blond boy looked like he was fighting with himself over something, and after a moment he seemed to give in and sighed lightly. Without looking at Harry, he said almost inaudibly: "Kiss me."
Harry was stunned. What? Draco wants me to kiss him? Kiss Draco? "What are you talking about? How would that solve anything and why do you even want me to kiss you?" he blurted and felt his grip on his wand tighten. This has got to be some sort of a trap, he thought.
Draco still did not look at him, but his voice was steady and clear. "It's simple. If you enjoy it, I was right. If you don't, then you were right," Draco said, as if he were explaining something to a child.
"But... why would you let me kiss you?" he said suspiciously.
A small smile rose on Draco's lips. "Maybe I want to know the answer too."
If Harry had felt stunned at Draco suggesting that Harry kissed him, it was nothing compared to knowing that Draco wanted Harry to kiss him. Time seemed to stand still again, but this time thoughts raced through Harry's brain like ants in a hive. He wants me to kiss him, but why would I want to kiss him? I know that I don't like him. I know it. Although, somewhere at the back of his mind, on some unconscious level, he knew that that might not be entirely true.
But why? Suddenly, Harry remembered his dreams. The dreams where he was always desperately searching for the one, whose name he could not say and whose face he could not see. What if Draco was the one he was searching?
There was only one way to find out.
"Malfoy," his voice came through as a soft whisper.
Draco turned his head towards Harry, and his eyes were full of expectation. Without a further word, Harry leaned closer to Draco, hesitated a bit, and then placed his lips on Draco's mouth.
In the instant their lips touched, Harry remembered that he had never kissed anyone before, and that he had no idea what to do next. Their lips met for a moment, touched each other, and just as Harry was about to back down, Draco started gently moving his mouth. He slowly persuaded Harry to react, to give in to his instincts and open up to the kiss. And as he did, Harry felt like the sun was warming him again, shining before his face.
Draco's lips were soft and warm, everything Harry had never thought they would be. His kisses were small miracles, each one better that the one before. Harry felt like he was flying.
After a while Draco pulled himself back a bit and looked Harry straight in the eyes. "I was right?" he asked and his eyes sparkled with happiness. And Harry had to admit, the Slytherin was actually right this time. But instead of saying so, he pushed Draco on his back and climbed on top of him. "I haven't made up my mind yet, but I'll definitely let you know," he said, smiling devilishly, and lowered his head for another kiss.
* * *
It was not until they had reached the King's Cross that Harry remembered that he was supposed to see Ron and Hermione in the train. The two of them were waiting for him on the station and almost bit his head off as soon as they saw him. It was evident that they were not going to let this go without an explanation.
"Where the hell were you?" Ron asked as Harry stopped before them. "We searched the whole train three times and for a moment I thought you'd fallen asleep on the station or something."
"You can't go disappearing like that, Harry, we were so afraid something awful had happened to you..." Hermione was apparently not as much angry as she was relieved.
Harry just smiled at them. "Well, as you can see, I'm alright," he said, trying to sound as casual as he could. "I was in the last coach, maybe you just didn't see me."
Hermione looked a bit suspicious, but Ron had already changed the subject. "D'you know what? We saw Malfoy snogging someone in one compartment!" the red-head Gryffindor enthused.
"Er, did you see who it was?" Harry asked, feeling a prickly sensation in the pit of his stomach.
Ron's face fell a bit. "Well, no. I wanted to see, but she dragged me away," he said pointing at Hermione. "But anyways, I hope the poor girl's got all her vaccines taken, I mean, god knows what diseases a rat like Malfoy can carry..."
"How d'you know it was a girl?"
Ron looked him like he had gone mad. Then an understanding dawned in his eyes. "You mean... Malfoy's gay? And I didn't know?" he seemed more horrified about the fact that he had missed a bit of gossip than that Malfoy was gay.
Harry soon stopped listening Ron's ranting and let his thoughts wander to the upcoming vacation. His right hand encircled the object in his pocket, and a small smile rose to his lips. This is going to be the best summer ever, he thought. He met a pair of grey eyes across the crowd and his grip on the portkey grew tighter. Yes, definitely the best summer ever.