I Think I Like Him

27. Subduing Flames

Word Count: 950

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Things went quite quickly for Harry, once the holidays ended. The resuming of lessons, repeated apologies from Hermione, and long nights spent worrying about Sirius Black; all rushing past in a blaze of frustration. That sordid sense of hopelessness had seemed to follow him wherever we went- at the Dursleys, at Hogwarts. He just needed something to happen. The wait was always the worst part, and he had been through shit like this enough times to know what he was talking about. Too much was going on around him, but yet nothing of any significance; nothing that could keep his attention.

The few moments that everything slowed down, however, were those caught with Draco. The stillness that came with his company -the calm, was something that Harry began to cling to like oxygen. He would brave the day- anger simmering, seconds from overflow- when he would catch Draco's concerned eye, or feel him pretend to shove past him in the hallway, and a wash of relief would flood him. While Harry was out scorching all of his friends with a flaming rage- every tiny thing splintering his resolve and pressing down more and more on that fucking camel's back- Draco would cool him gently with little more than a glance.

"Harry, you're mad at me -and I get that, I do- but you know it was for your own good! You'll get it back tomorrow anyway, so I don't see why-" Hermione abruptly stopped when she caught sight of the venomous glare he was aiming at the Witch. Her lip was trembling dangerously yet her eyes held a self-righteousness that was just as flammable as his own.

"We don't deserve to be treated like this Harry. I understand that you're worried-"

"I'm not worried"

"-and that you don't really mean it but that is not an excuse to be so nasty to your friends." The blaze lessened to a sad kind of flicker while Harry's roared on. "We'll be here when you're ready to talk about all of this Harry- and we love you, but until then.." She stood with a sombre frown- Ron in tow looking rather sheepish.

He didn't need them anyway. Which was an incredible lie, but it was one he clung onto because otherwise, he feared he might grab his wand and Incendio the entire castle. Or worse. Cry.

...

Draco had been watching Harry, yet again, from a safe distance with his friends having returned. But it was with surprise that he found the raven alone in the library one evening.

"Potter?" He spat harshly, looking around accusingly.

"You don't have to do that Draco, no one's here." Harry barely looked up, and instead continued flicking lazily through the book in front of him.

The firm tension of his shoulders let out and he dropped his bag and sat down next to him, "Where are they? Granger's normally the culprit for you being found anywhere near the vicinity of a book" He said, good-naturedly.

The Gryffindor simply shrugged in response, continuing to pretend to read.

"It's nearly been a month?" Draco offered, a weak attempt at cheering him up. "Only a few hours until you get your broom back so you can start practising for the Ravenclaw match" he elbowed Harry playfully, "And if you want any chance of winning the cup from Slytherin you need to win"

The raven couldn't seem to prevent the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he looked at the Slytherin with a slow, blinking, thoughtful kind of gaze. One that Draco felt small under. One he felt special under.

"Harry?"

The kiss that followed was unexpected but was welcomed nonetheless. He didn't want to delve into why it was welcomed, and so simply settled for the fact that it was. He enjoyed Harry's company, and Harry enjoyed his. That was all he wanted to focus on, for the moment. Their strange yet oh-so-sweet secret.

The kiss felt warm as Draco chased it. So much so that when Harry pressed forward until he was half straddling him; holding his face tightly in his palms, the blond thought that he may simply stop breathing altogether. He probably wouldn't notice if he did.

In the moment between one heartbeat and the next, the kiss changed. Intensified. While previously guided by a haze of childish interest and pining, Harry forced his anger into the kiss. His fear. Hurt. He pulled Draco's hair and nipped at the plump of his lips with the kind of fervency only Harry Potter could manage. But Draco mirrored it right back. Maybe he didn't hold the same burning that the other boy did, but he knew Harry. He had been playing in his flames for years- he knew how to handle Harry's anger. He knew how to reciprocate it.

The smouldering war gleamed between them like a glowing splint. Each of them pushing and pulling all at once- neither knowing how, nor why, but simply what, and who.

This continued deep into the night; the both of them - forgotten - in the depths of the silent library. Harry letting off great thralls of smoke amongst his blazing anger, and Draco drinking it in greedily. Pushing back with an icy kind of intensity that met Harry's heat and subdued it with cutting shards of frostbite. They broke away slowly, blinking steadily at each other in the dark. Draco was simply in awe of what he was looking at.

The Slytherin in him wanted Harry, and wasn't that a scary thought?