Title: Into the Forbidden Forest
Author: Cinnamon and Jessica Moonlight
Rating: Hard R - NC-17
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: The Armchair chatters provided this scenario. Lissa was Harry and Jess was Draco.

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"It's going to rain," Harry says musingly, not all that interested really in the clouds gathering overhead. It's something to do other than exchange hostile glares with Malfoy, however, and hostile glares do tend to lead to a crick in the neck. He glances at Malfoy and then at Hagrid, who is directing the class into partners and passing out the Nifflers. "So, erm, Nifflers, huh?" he says, trying to break the tense silence. If Malfoy intends to sulk all day about being forced to work with him, it's just going to make this worse.

Draco merely rolls his eyes and sniffs disdainfully at the creatures. "I honestly don't see why that giant oaf feels he has the authority to confiscate our wands. He could've just told us not to use them." He makes a face as Hagrid sets a Niffler down at their feet and takes a step back. "Ugh, the creature smells worse than you, Potter."

Harry snorts a little and shakes his head. "Shut up, Malfoy. Honestly, you could try not to be so damned irritating, it's not helping anything. I don't exactly enjoy being this close to you either. Oh, and for the record? If it smells worse than I do, I've got to admit, it looks better than you do. There is a bit of resemblance, of course, being as you both have that sort of rodent-esque look going for you..." He trails off, glancing at the Niffler, who is staring intensely at Malfoy. Harry grins. "Oh, look, he thinks you're his mummy..."

Draco eyes the Niffler warily and takes another step back, his eyes widening as it closes the distance between them. "Potter, is this a joke? You've trained it to attack me, haven't you? My father will hear about this!" He takes a few more steps backward, and as the Niffler scampers forward, he lets out a small squeak and turns, running full-tilt for the Forbidden Forest.

Harry blinks and glances around, but no one else has seen Malfoy take off, running like a girl, away from the Niffler. "Malfoy?" he calls, just so that when asked how he lost his partner and his Niffler, he can claim that he at least TRIED to talk Malfoy out of running blindly into the forest. Malfoy is too far gone to hear, and Harry sighs. If Malfoy gets injured again in one of Hagrid's classes, there'll be hell to pay for SURE, and if Malfoy gets KILLED, Hagrid would be in so much trouble. It's inevitable then. Harry glances around to make sure no one is watching and then takes off into the forest, following the distant sound of Malfoy's girly screams.

Draco is backed up against a tree, kicking feebly at the Niffler as it advances, snarling. "Get away, you filthy beast! Don't you know who I am?" He tells himself his tone is imperious, but it's really more piteous than anything. He whimpers as the Niffler pulls his shoe from his foot, and then screams as it latches onto his shin. "Help! Help, I'm being eaten! Savagely brutalised! SOMEONE WILL PAY FOR THESE TROUSERS!"

Harry is annoyed, breathless, and viciously amused. "Malfoy," he snaps. "It's a sodding Niffler. Honestly, it's like... an over-sized gerbil or something. Kick it, and for the love of Merlin, stop screaming! Do you want to attract bigger and more frightening things? Because honestly, keep up the shrieking, and paying for those trousers will be the least of your worries."

Draco looks down and makes a mewling noise. "I'm bleeding. Get this vicious creature away from me, Potter," he pleads, yelping and clasping his arms against his chest as the Niffler lunges for his watch. "Wouldn't you rather eat Potter?" he reasons desperately with the Niffler. "He's got all that meat on his bones, he'd be a much better meal." He squeaks and tries to scrabble up the tree behind him as the Niffler lunges again, apparently disagreeing with his assessment of Potter's gastronomic appeal.

"I'm quite sure Nifflers are vegetarians," Harry points out, rolling his eyes. "It doesn't want to eat you, it wants your watch. Just give it the watch, and it'll stop attacking you. Honestly, Malfoy, please. This is pathetically painful to watch."

"I'll have you know, Potter, this watch has been in my family for generations! I'm not just handing it over to some rabid vermin!" Draco replies haughtily. The Niffler sinking it's teeth into his shin changes his mind quickly and he scrabbles to remove the watch as he wails in pain, feebly flailing his leg, trying to free it from the animal's mouth.

Feeling sorry for Malfoy despite his best intentions, Harry grabs the Niffler and starts trying to pry it off Malfoy's leg. "Hurry and give it the watch, and stop whining! This is your own fault, Malfoy! Besides, it can't hurt that badly." The Niffler thrashes madly in his arms and bites Harry's hand, making him quickly change his mind about that, and he drops the Niffler with a yelp. It quickly reattaches itself to Malfoy's shin.

Draco manages to fumble the watch off, snivelling in pain as he tosses it to the ground a few feet away. "There, take the bloody thing!" He slides down the tree trunk as the Niffler abruptly turns and grabs the watch, trotting off into the forest with its head held high, proud to have gotten its booty. Draco bites his lip as he looks down at his mangled trouser leg, afraid to pull it up and assess the damage to his shin. "This is all that giant's fault," he mutters, scowling to keep his tears at bay, as he'd rather die than let Potter see him crying. "My father will kill me when he finds out I lost that watch," he mourns to himself, completely ignoring Potter now.

"Kill you?" If Harry sounds a bit enthusiastic, he really doesn't mean to, and he quickly clears his throat and tries to look properly sympathetic. "The Niffler's probably bringing it back to Hagrid's. Besides, it's not your fault the Niffler attacked you." He hurried to add, "Not Hagrid's either, of course, because you were supposed to take all your gold off and put it away before he brought the Nifflers out and you made such a fuss about refusing to put your watch in a box with other people's things..." he trails off, realizing that he was not being all that helpful, and after a short pause, says grudgingly, "Let me see your leg, make sure you don't bleed to death or something." He carefully kneels in the dirt beside Malfoy.

Draco sniffs and stretches his leg out gingerly. "I wasn't going to just throw a family heirloom into a box. It could get stolen, broken...*looked at wrong.*" He winces as Potter gently rolls his trouser leg up. "Careful, Potter! I'm very delicate." He scowls at Potter, decidedly *not* noticing how full Potter's lips are. He moans as he feels a few raindrops land on his skin. "Oh, perfect. Now I'm going to get all muddy, too. Somehow this is your fault, Potter."

"Oh, Voldemort help the one who looks at poor, delicate Draco Malfoy's watch the wrong way," Harry sneers quietly, not bothering to glance up at Malfoy. "Shut up and stop whining. You're already filthy, so a bit of mud won't matter. And you're not even bleeding to death." He looks up at Malfoy and grins. "Must be your lucky day or something." He carefuly wipes the blood away with the sleeve of his robe and then sits back on his heels, tilting his head to the side and studying Malfoy silently for a long moment. "Right, I've got a rather difficult question for you, Malfoy. Do you, uhmm, have any idea where we are or how to get back?"

Draco snorts and sits up. "Of course I do, Potter. It's..." He leans around the tree, then swivels his head around, looking for a familiar landmark. Finding none he closes his eyes and slumps back against the tree. "Great. You've got us lost in the Forest, Potter...AND it's raining...AND it's starting to get dark. What else could possibly go wrong?"

"We could run into a bunch of handy centaurs and invisible monsters," Harry says helpfully. "And besides, it's hardly my fault. Must I remind you that I didn't have to come after you at all? You could be lost here all by yourself, still fending off attacks from rabid Nifflers. You should be grateful I'm here at all. Besides, it's not raining that hard..." Even as he says that, it starts raining harder, and he winces. His glasses are quickly spotted with raindrops and he can hardly see a thing.

Draco pushes limp strands of wet hair from his face and looks at Potter with one eyebrow arched. "You were saying?" He sighs and wraps his arms around himself, shivering. "We're going to have to spend the night out here, in the Forest, alone--" He whimpers and lunges toward Potter as a distant animal calls out, clinging to his forearms. "What was that? Werewolf?"

"Umm," Harry says, as close to coherency as he can manage. He clears his throat and glances away, startled by Malfoy's sudden closeness. "Alone?" he stammers, images of spending the night alone with Malfoy-- in a terrible situation involving werewolves and rain and forests and fear and certainly not anything that should involve that idea being in anyway, anyway enjoyable, of course, and Harry'd smack anyone who implied any differently and... and... He's afraid that he's hyperventilating and he sucks in a deep breath and leaps to his feet. "Werewolf?" he scoffs, voice trembling a little. "I think it was a...umm... alright, I have no idea. But not a werewolf. I've heard werewolves. And we won't be stuck here alone, we'll just... walk back. Surely you can walk. Because if three little tooth marks are enough to cripple you, Malfoy, you do realize that I will be unable to prevent myself from laughing at you." He's still breathing heavily, but the dizziness of impending panic has diminished a bit, and he sighs in relief.

Draco realises he's still clinging to Potter and pulls back as if burned. He sniffs and says, "I'm sure I can walk, but *what direction*, Potter? You got us lost, remember?" He reaches out and pushes Potter's sodden hair from his forehead, telling himself it's just because it was irritating to have to look at.

"I know exactly which way Hogwarts is," Harry says rather stiffly, because Malfoy did *not* just brush his hair out of his face. "it's... It's that way." He randomly selects a direction, nods as if he knows what he's talking about, and glances hopefully at Malfoy, hoping he agrees. Or at least is dense enough to follow.

"Fine." Draco crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Potter expectantly for a few moments before asking exasperatedly, "Well? Aren't you going to help me up, then? I'd like to get back to the school, and I do *not* want to spend any longer alone with you than I have to."

"Help you up? You know, Malfoy, if anyone had informed me that I would be forced to play babysitter to a whiney and helpless Draco Malfoy all night in the sodding rain in the Forbidden Forest when I woke up this morning, I think I'd have just rolled over and gone right back to sleep. Honestly, how do you survive on your own, as bloody delicate as you are?" He's ranting, even as he reaches out, snatching Malfoy's hand, and tugging hard. This just serves to unbalance him, and that, combined with the slippery mud, sends him slipping and falling, flat out on top of Malfoy with a muffled grunt.

Draco lets out a startled, "Oof!" as Potter sprawls on top of him. He lies still for a moment, then, shocked to feel his body responding to Potter's nearness, he places his hands on Potter's shoulders and shoves at him weakly, serving only to shift Potter into a much more compromising position against him.

Harry blinks, startled and barely able to see through his fogged up and wet glasses. "Malfoy?" he squeaks. "What are you doing? Get *off* me!" Conveniently forgetting that he's on top of Malfoy, he starts strugging madly, mud and rain and squirming Malfoy making it difficult to roll away.

"Must you *wriggle* like that, Potter?" Draco asks in a strained voice, grabbing Potter's shoulders to steady him and get him *away* before he notices anything...amiss. His breathing quickens as he digs his elegant fingers into Potter's shoulders, trying to get him to stop struggling, idly admiring the firm muscles under his hands.

"I'm... I'm not," Harry wails breathlessly, going very, very still. "I can't get off," he says plaintively, closing his eyes and letting his head fall to Malfoy's shoulders.

Draco rolls his eyes and shifts, trying unsuccessfully to slide out from under Potter. "What do you mean, you can't get off? It's not like you've got a leglocker curse on you, or something." He sighs in resignation and leans his head back against the tree, raising one hand to stroke Potter's hair lightly, his mind asking him just what he thinks he's doing.

Harry's eyes widen and he sits up so fast that the top of his head slams into Malfoy's jaw. He's straddling Malfoy now, which is hardly any better, and he still can't see, damn it. "Shit," he mumbles, wincing. He touches Malfoy's jaw lighly. "Sorry... I, umm. Are you alright?"

"No," Draco replies shortly, moving his head subtly into Potter's touch. "How do you ever stay on your broom during Quidditch, Potter? You are utterly uncoordinated," he mutters, placing his hand over Potter's on his face, his thumb tracing over Potter's fingers.

"I, umm, use my legs... you know, wrap them around--" He stops; after all, he's quite sure Malfoy doesn't really care about how he stays on his broom, even though his dignity is rather bruised and he can't seem to stop staring at Malfoy like a deer in the headlights, or a Niffler after a family heirloom. "I'm not," he says, clearing his throat. "Uncoordinated, I mean." And, just to prove it (though how this proves anything other than that he's lost his mind, Harry'll never know), Harry slides his thumb from Malfoy's jaw and up to his lower lip, tracing it and swallowing nervously.

Draco's breath hitches as Harry's (Potter's, damn it!) thumb touches his lip, his body going utterly still. He hesitantly flicks the pointed tip of his tongue against Potter's thumb, his eyes watching Potter's reaction warily, afraid to break the spell that seems to have frozen time, leaving nothing but the two of them in existence.

Harry smiles a little, even as he shivers. There are streams of rain running down Malfoy's face and he reaches up and smooths his hair back, letting out the breath he hadn't known he was holding. He should be cold, what with the rain and all, but he hardly notices it, biting his lip and studying Malfoy through foggy, spotted glasses. "I can hardly see," he says quietly, though it hardly matters. Malfoy opens his mouth to comment and Harry leans forward and brushes his lips against his very lightly and experimentally.

Draco's eyes flutter closed as he gasps and moves his hand to the back of Potter's head, pressing his mouth firmly to Potter's, running his tongue over Potter's bottom lip. He curls his other arm around Potter's waist, dragging him closer.

'Ah ha!' Harry thinks. 'The Niffler was rabid, Malfoy had lost his mind, and all of this made sense then.' That settled, he lets himself fall against Malfoy's chest, closing his eyes and quite content to kiss him back. Both of his hands somehow find themselves twisting in the front of Malfoy's shirt, jerking him up away from the tree hard. He growls a bit and bites Malfoy's lower lip possessively, one hand slipping up to cradle his jaw, the other wrapping around his shoulders and holding him close.

Draco's eyes fly open as he's pulled up from the tree. His indignant protest comes out sounding suspiciously like a breathless moan as his fingernails scratch lightly over Potter's scalp, his eyes slipping closed again, his body melting into Potter's warmth.

Harry runs a hand through Malfoy's wet hair and breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, and a little stunned. He licks his lips, and then, because talking seems too much effort and, as he can't see, he can't tell how Malfoy is reacting, he leans forward again and kisses the corner of his lips lightly, then slides lower, licking and biting Malfoy's throat.

Draco sighs and tips his head back, exposing a graceful arch of skin to Potter's mouth, sliding his hand down to rest on Potter's neck, playing lightly with the damp tendrils of hair sticking to it as he whispers softly, "Harry..."

Harry winces, because he doesn't want to talk and have his 'this is okay because Malfoy's gone mad' idea destroyed. And so he kisses him again, nudging him until Malfoy's leaning back against the tree and Harry's hands are free to cradle his face and make sure he can't pull away and try talking again. Harry slides closer, straddling him, as he runs his tongue along Malfoy's lower lip and bites it gently.

Draco whimpers into Potter's mouth and wraps his arms around him, pulling Potter tightly against him, smoothing his hands over Potter's back as he tries to capture his lips in another hungry kiss.

Harry moans a bit and the sound of it startles him, and he breaks the kiss, blinking owlishly. "Draco," he says, voice husky."You just... kissed... I..." he trials off, shivering from the sudden cold of not being as close to Malfoy.

Draco smirks lazily, moving his arm up to curl around Potter's shoulders. "Incoherent, Potter? I'm flattered," he purrs, tugging Potter back against him and feathering kisses along his jaw.

"I'm...not. Incoherent. It's just..." Harry closed his eyes and shivered, turning his head to give Malfoy easier access. "You're, umm... kinda muddy."

Draco grins against Potter's neck. "As are you," he points out, sucking Potter's earlobe into his mouth and nibbling gently.

"Draco, Draco wait," Harry whimpers, even as he turns his head and slams his lips over Malfoy's, kissing him hard. "We shouldn't be doing this," he says a moment later, though he's fumbling with Malfoy's robes even as he says it.

"And why is that, Harry?" Draco asks quietly, savouring the feel of Potter's name on his tongue as he settles comfortably back against the tree, hands falling to his sides, content to let Potter do all the work.

"It doesn't make any--" He pauses to lick the rain that had gathered in the hollow of Malfoy's throat-- "sense." He pushes Malfoy's robes off over his shoulders and down his arms and then glances into his eyes hesitantly, biting his lower lip.

Draco moans softly as Potter's tongue runs over his skin. "It makes perfect sense to me," he says loftily. "We have to keep warm somehow, don't we?" He reaches up and tugs Potter's robes open, sliding his hands inside them. "And I don't know about you, but I'm quite warm just now," he whispers as he flicks his tongue teasingly against Potter's lips.

"Warm," Harry whispers. "Right. It's alright then, right?" He shivers a bit, though certainly not from cold, and traces Malfoy's collar bone with his tongue, running his hands over Malfoy's chest. Kissing his way up his throat and back to his lips, he smiles a little before kissing him almost gently there, his hands slipping around Malfoy's waist to his back.

Draco scratches his fingers lightly over Potter's chest, returning the kiss with equal gentleness. His index finger finds Potter's nipple and brushes gently back and forth over it as the corners of his lips curl up with satisfaction, smiling as he continues the kiss.

Harry's eyelids flutter a bit and he moans weakly, pulling away and breaking the kiss. "Warmer," he says breathlessly, nodding, and then with a faintly devilish smirk, he slides lower, licking the drops of rain of Malfoy's chest with tiny circles of his tongue.

Draco gasps, arching his chest up toward Potter's warm tongue, his hands sliding around to grip Potter's sides tightly, leaving a series of quickly fading pink half-moons in Potter's skin where his fingernails pressed against the flesh.

Harry laughs quietly, shifting so he can slid lower, one knee pressing between Malfoy's legs. He grazes Malfoy's stomach with his teeth and then straightens up again, licking his nipple lightly and moving just beside it, sucking gently until he's left a bruise there. He pulls away and smirks.

Draco makes a small noise of pleasure in his throat and looks down as Potter pulls back. He raises an eyebrow as he looks up from the bruise. "You marked me. My beautiful flawless skin..." He grins, sharklike. "Right, you'll pay for that." He grabs Potter's wrists and rolls them both into the mud, his body pinning Potter to the ground as he sprawls atop him, raising his upper body to look down at Potter, rainwater dripping from his hair onto Potter's face.

Harry grins. "And this is a punishment?" He arches against Malfoy a bit, more to see his reaction than in a sincere attempt to get away. Malfoy's got mud on his face and Harry rolls his eyes, reaching up and brushing it away. "We're both gonna get so dirty before this is done," he whispers, swallowing hard.

Draco sniggers softly. "That seems to be the plan, yes," he murmurs, grinding his hips down into Potter's in answer as he bends and sucks gently on Potter's neck, flicking his tongue over the skin occasionally.

Harry sucks in a startled breath and can't help himself from arching up again against Malfoy, whimpering low in his throat. "Draco...mmm, do that again," he breathes, closing his eyes and breathing hard.

"What, this?" Draco asks innocently as he lifts his head, grinding against Potter again, his heartrate speeding up at the delicious sensation, his hands loosening their grip on Potter's wrists and sliding along his arms, leaving muddy smears on the skin.

"Mmm, yes," Harry whispers huskily, lifting both hands up and running them through Malfoy's Hair, down to the back of his neck. He pulls him down hard, so their lips crash together, and kisses him wildly.

Draco fervently kisses Potter back, wiping his hand absently on Potter's robe to remove the mud before lifting his body up enough to slip it between them, his wet fingers slipping on the button of Potter's trousers as he works to unfasten them.

Harry seems incapable of anything really except kissing Malfoy and moaning into his mouth, hands slipping over wet skin and gliding over Malfoy's back. He breaks the kiss because he can't breathe, tilting his head back and gasping. "Draco?" he whimpers, eyes flying wide. "What are you doing?" He's panting and it all comes out breathless.

Draco rolls his eyes, thinking it should be quite obvious what he's doing. "I'm undoing your trousers," he comments casually, pulling the zip down as he speaks and sliding his hand inside, grazing the back of his fingers over Potter's cock.

"Ah," Harry says, though it doesn't come out sounding nearly as coherent as he had hoped. He props himself up on his elbows and then leans forward, brushing his lips over Draco's. "Well surely you don't intend to just undo them," he says, smiling and licking Draco's lower lip.

"It's a start," Draco breathes, his mouth fastening onto Harry's as he wraps his fingers firmly around Harry's arousal, stroking it slowly.

Not wanting to break the kiss, Harry moans into Draco's mouth, arching against him. His heart is beating wildly and he keeps having to remind himself to breathe. Running rough fingers through Draco's hair, he finally pulls away, trying desperately to catch his breath.

But Draco has other plans as he slides his body down Harry's, thinking that he quite likes Harry breathless and writhing beneath him. He presses a few moist kisses to Harry's chest and stomach as he moves lower, holding Harry's cock firmly as he swirls his tongue around the head, moaning softly as the taste of Harry fills his mouth.

Harry falls back, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking. "God, Draco," he whispers, voice low and cracking a little.

Draco moves his mouth further onto Harry's cock, making small pleased noises as he slowly slides his hand out of the way, gripping Harry's hips firmly as he begins to bob his head in an easy rhythm, running his tongue along the underside of Harry's shaft.

Harry sucks in a startled breath, eyes widening as he props himself up on his elbows and stares at Draco, unable to help moaning at the sight of Draco's mouth around him.

Draco glances up Harry's body to meet his eyes, a slow smile curving the corners of his lips upward as he gradually increases the pace of his mouth.

Harry's breathing heavily, and dark spots are beginning to swim in front of his eyes, every time he blinks. He falls back with a strangled whimper, and tries to jerk out of Draco's hold and arch up against him. "Draco," he manages to say, voice low and husky. "This isn't... isn't... oh, fuck..." he trails off and bites his lip hard to keep from moaning again.

Draco feels a thrill through him as Harry speaks, as if his voice is caressing along his spine. He doubles his efforts, sucking Harry's cock enthusiastically, releasing one of his hips and moving his hand up to tease lightly at Harry's nipple, rubbing and pinching gently.

Harry can hardly think or breathe, his entire body is trembling and he whimpers a little, thrusting up into Draco's mouth instinctively. "Draco, please," he cries, though he doesn't know what he's begging for. Just... more. Of this. And he doesn't want it ever to stop.

Draco moans and releases Harry's other hip, sliding both his hands over Harry's stomach in a soft, tender caress, letting Harry set the pace as he continues to move his lips and tongue over Harry's erection hungrily.

Harry's fingers tangle in Draco's hair and he can't form a coherent sentence for the life of him. All that matters is Draco's mouth and tongue and anything else has faded away into nothing and he cries out wordlessly, hands turning to fists in Draco's hair as he arches again and climaxes in the other boy's mouth.

Draco swallows greedily as Harry's seed fills his mouth, running his tongue over the head once more before he pulls back and slides back up next to Harry, instinctively curling against him, running his fingers lightly over Harry's rain-slicked chest.

Harry's eyelids flutter a bit, and his eyes are dark and very wide. He stretches a bit, like a cat, and is still staring at Draco in shock. Coherency is slow to return, and before it does, he leans forward and kisses Draco rather tentatively, tasting himself in the other boy's mouth.

Draco returns the kiss, gliding his tongue against Harry's with a small whimper as it enters his mouth, not wanting this moment to ever end.

Harry pulls away after a moment, blinking at Draco through his foggy glasses and falling back into the mud. "Uhh," he says, eloquently, his lips parted a bit, so that rain is falling into his mouth.

"Shhh," Draco says, pressing his finger to Harry's lips. "Not yet," he whispers pleadingly, snuggling closer to Harry.

Harry turns and smiles almost shyly at Draco and slides closer, burying his face in Draco's chest and wrapping his arms around him, his heart rate gradually slowing.

Draco holds Harry silently for a long moment before reluctantly pulling back. "We're going to freeze to death if we don't get out of these wet clothes," he says softly, brushing his fingers lightly over Harry's cheek.

"I'm warm," Harry says, and it's only a slight lie. He shivers a bit and wrinkles his nose. It's awkward and he's blushing a little.

Draco smirks as he feels Harry shiver. "You're a terrible liar, Harry," he chides gently, leaning in to give Harry a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before he sits up and begins refastening his robes.

Harry scowls, sitting up and brushing his muddy hair out of his face. He glances around, surprised to see that everything still looks the same as it did before this entire thing happened, except wetter, of course. Doing up his trousers, he glances at Draco out of the corner of his eye and bites his lip. "Uhmm..." he says. "Do you remember how to get back yet?"

"No, but we can't just lie in the mud all night, now can we?" Draco replies lightly, glancing around as he straightens his robes as best he can, sneaking quick looks at Harry out of the corner of his eyes. "Besides, your pet giant isn't going to let anything happen to you. I'm sure someone will be along to rescue us."

"I...he's not a pet, he's a friend," Harry says quietly, studying his muddy robes in disgust. "Besides, I rather liked lying in the mud."

"Of course you did, I was there," Draco replies with a small sniff, trying vainly to brush the mud from his own robes.

Harry briefly considers snapping something about Draco being an arrogant bastard, but reconsiders since it was true that the only reason Harry had enjoyed it was that Draco was there. So instead, he stands up, scowls, puts his robes on, and walks away, calling over his shoulder, "Standing around's not helping us get back. Let's go this way."

Draco scowls at Harry's back, irritated at having to get up off the ground unassisted. He scrambles to his feet as Harry continues to walk away, not wanting to be left alone in the forest at night, in the rain. "Wait for me! Er...I'm injured, remember?" He puts on an exaggerated limp as he hurries after Harry.

Harry glances over his shoulder and rolls his eyes. "Didn't seem injured a few minutes ago," he snaps, irritated and not really knowing why. "Hurry up then, and stop limping. You've got three tiny tooth marks, not a broken leg."

"It's probably infected. Bloody vermin, who knows where it's mouth has been?" Draco whinges as he loses some of the exaggeration in his limping.

Harry smiles a bit, rolling his eyes. "It's fine, not infected, and it was your fault. We've gone over this. Hurry up." He waits, smirking a little as Draco hurries to catch up.

"A Malfoy never accepts blame," Draco imperiously informs Harry, some of the effect lost to breathlessness as he pulls up next to him.

"Never?" Harry asks, rolling his eyes and grinning. "Not even when he gets attacked by a Niffler for withholding a watch and--" When Draco looks like he's about to argue, Harry laughs. "Okay, okay, it wasn't your fault. You're a complete victim here." And then he can't help it and kisses Draco quickly, smiling and grabbing his wrist, because he doesn't know if a Malfoy ever holds hands and hardly wishes to press the issue. Tugging lightly, he glances around and tries to pretend he actually knows where they're going.

Draco follows without protest, inwardly examining the flutter in his chest from Harry's kiss, a small smile on his lips.

Harry glances over his shoulder and grins. "I could carry you, if you like. If it really hurts that badly, I mean..." He clears his throat and wonders if Draco can tell that his face is turning red.

Draco grins. "Thank you, Harry. I'll let you know." He reaches out for Harry's hand, twining their fingers together with a shy smile, his head bowed slightly, looking up at Harry through silvery-blond lashes.

The End