𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛 | drarry

Chapter 4

They were both very much lost in their thoughts as they went back to their bedroom that night. It had been quite a day. Harry had expected it, of course - how could it be otherwise when you had to pretend to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy after all? - but he had not anticipated just how much it would shake him.

He let out a breath of relief as they opened the door to their room and he was finally allowed to kick out his shoes and remove his robe. Draco was unusually quiet.

"You okay?" Harry couldn't help asking.

Draco discarded his own robe on a nearby chair by his side of the bed. "Sure. You?"

"Yeah. Tired, though."

"Me too," Draco replied as he unlaced his trousers.

"Are you," Harry tried again. "Are you happy? Pleased with how we did today?"

"Sure. We did well," Draco answered with a tired smile.

Harry smiled back. "Good. I'm glad."

Draco started on the buttons of his shirt. "We looked gorgeous. Together," he said softly. "We make a very nice couple." And with that, he locked himself in the bathroom.

Indeed, Harry couldn't help thinking. He removed the rest of his clothes and prepared for bed. He kept his underpants and put on an old, comfortable t-shirt; he just hated being cold in the morning. Draco came out of the bathroom with a plain, white - rather tight - t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, and Harry went in to brush his teeth.

When Harry stepped into the bedroom again, Draco was already in bed. Harry took a deep breath and tried not to think too much of the fact he was going to share a bed with Draco. He pulled the sheets from his side and lay down, thankful that Draco was turned away from him.

There he was.

"I hope you don't snore," Draco called from the other side of the bed, before turning over and lying on his back, a smirk on his face.

"I don't. You?"

"Of course not, Malfoys don't snore," Draco replied indignantly.

"Right. Good night, then."

"Night, Potter." And Draco turned to face the bathroom door again.

It will be okay, Harry thought. No big deal. After all, he's shared a room with other boys at Hogwarts for years, so it wasn't very different. Except I never felt anything for said other boys back then.

The room wasn't completely dark and the full moon allowed Harry to observe Draco's back unashamedly. It was a beautiful back; sure, it was covered with Draco's t-shirt, which was a shame, really, but still. And Harry knew what he was talking about, because if there was something he liked, it was a nice, muscled back. He had a long career in looking at men's backs. And this one was pretty nice.

Harry's eyes roamed over Draco's body in the semi-darkness again. The beautiful, white-blond hair that was the Malfoys' trademark, the back of his neck, looking so soft and bloody hell, so kissable, and Harry could imagine how it would feel to brush his lips over the pale skin, how the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck would tickle his lips as Harry would kiss his way down-

"Would you quit staring at my back, Potter?"

Harry froze instantly. He didn't reply and simply turned to face the fireplace. He had to focus on his side of the bed, and forget Draco was right next to him.

Right. Harry closed his eyes and tried to think about the events of the evening instead. The dinner had been surprisingly pleasant and the dance had been... Well, the dance had been nice too. Okay, who was he kidding? The dance had been brilliant. He had not stepped on Draco's feet more than ten times, and everybody had applauded them afterwards. Oh, and Draco had kissed him. Twice.