𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐖𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍 ?

Single Chapter

Title: Where Do We Begin?
Author: Marian of the Faeries
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating NC-17
Category: PWP
Summary: Draco is in for a surprise when he tries to seduce Harry. A story that begins in the end of their enmity, and ends in the beginning of something new.

Where do we begin, my friend?
In the end, the end
Do we end, my friend
In the beginning?

Made in Sweden - "Where Do We Begin"

Mine and Harry's relationship drastically changed, for the better I dare say, one night in November in our seventh year. I was prowling around the dark castle, slinking from shadow to shadow to avoid being seen, wearing my black school robe and my black cloak. Apart from being warm, the cloak also had a hood. My hair colour is simply no good for sneaking. This time I wasn't out for any of my usual reasons, which often involved getting someone into trouble, though. I was out to find Harry.

Harry and I had always been rivals, from our first day at school, although the expression of our rivalry had somewhat changed in the last two years. When we were children we antagonised each other greatly, and I used to go out of my way to make him suffer.

At the end of fifth year that changed. At first I think it was just another way for me to torment him, but it didn't turn out quite the way I thought. It might also have had something to do with the fact that I realised I was gay sometime in fifth year.

Anyway, after a couple of sharp reprimands from the teachers, Harry and I stopped hexing each other in the corridors and contented ourselves with exchanging witty insults.

One of those times, I threw a challenge that certainly held a double meaning in his face. Harry was unfazed at first, but after a moment or two my words sunk in, and he blushed fiercely. I will never forget his shocked expression! I found it hilarious, of course, and didn't hesitate to use the trick again. Soon he started to use my own method against me, though, and I discovered that the Boy Who Lived was indeed not a prude. Our usual altercations quickly increased in sexual undertones. I found this very exciting, perhaps a little too much for my own comfort.

I had actually made quite an effort to find Harry tonight. Well, I knew where to find him, of course, but it is harder than it sounds for a Slytherin to enter Gryffindor Tower, and the seventh-year boys' dormitory, unnoticed. I had spied on the Gryffindors to find the entrance to their common room, and managed to get the password from a scared first-year. I still didn't know how to find Harry's dormitory, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

Believe it or not, I actually did manage to get to Gryffindor Tower – unnoticed –, and whispered the password to the portrait that guarded the entrance. It opened, and I crept through the hole and found myself in a cosy, circular room with a fire still burning in the fireplace, and armchairs, sofas and tables scattered all over the place. Quite proud of my successful sneaking, I found a small, dark alcove near the fireplace and hid there while I surveyed the room. A door at the opposite side of the room leading to a narrow spiralling staircase indicated that I should begin my search there, but before I had time to move, I heard footsteps.

Someone was descending the stairs, and I could see a dark form appearing in the doorframe and heading in my direction. My heart started to beat faster. Had I been discovered? The unknown person came closer, stepping soundlessly over the cold stone floor. Finally he came into the circle of light emanating from the fireplace, and I stopped myself from gasping just in time. It was Harry.

My second reaction was to stare, dazed and quite impressed. Harry's hair was even messier than usual, and he looked sleepy, as if he just woke up. He was barefoot, and wore only a pair of off-white cotton pyjamas with thin blue stripes. The jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a toned chest, the colour of his skin almost golden in the firelight; velvet just begging to be caressed... The pants were riding dangerously low on his hips, showing the delicious ridge of his hipbones. And unless my now-very-wide eyes deceived me, he was half-hard, his erection straining against the thin fabric stretched across his hips. Wet dreams, Potter? The sight of him made me very aroused. It took all of my willpower to refrain from stepping forward and reach out to touch him. I had to admit that Harry was gorgeous.