Seeking Love

Harry was in so much trouble.

Ever since he had first seen Draco, he had known that the way Draco's gaze made him feel was not normal. The way Harry's hand itched just to hold Draco's, to cup his face and kiss him senseless, was certainly far from normal. But he dealt with it. It was difficult, but Harry had no other choice. Draco was in Slytherin, and, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't exactly sleep with the enemy.

They only ever communicated with each other through sneers, glares and insults. It hurt Harry to acknowledge that Draco hated him. That Draco did consider Harry as the enemy. And if the insults that Draco threw at Harry were any indication, Draco probably considered Harry his arch enemy.

Harry had tried to move on from these feelings. Hell, he had even resorted to having a one night stand, but nothing worked.

And eventually, this crush had become so humongous that all it had taken was a small push to have him falling. To have him falling in love.

There was a Quidditch match next week. Gryffindor against Slytherin. Harry was the Gryffindor Seeker, and Draco was Slytherin's. Harry didn't know how he could possibly play against his crush. Play against his love.

Earlier, Harry used to somehow manage to keep his feelings in check, and play his best in the matches against Slytherin. But he only had a crush on Draco back then. And now he was in love. Unrequited love.

I can't play against Draco! I'll probably just end up staring dumbly at his pretty face!

Harry groaned. He shouldn't have thought about Draco's pretty face, because now that face was all he could picture in his mind. Those high cheek bones, the ice grey eyes that seemed to just look right into Harry's soul every time they gazed (more like glared) at him, and those deliciously pink lips. The lips that Harry had dreamt of tasting so many times.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione's voice brought Harry out of his reverie. They were sitting in the common room, trying to finish their essays.

"...Huh?" Harry mumbled incoherently, still caught up in daydreaming about Draco.

"I asked whether you are -"

"Yeah, no, I heard you the first time. I am fine. Just tired of sitting here and writing." He rubbed his palms on his face. "I think I'll take a break now. I am just going to go on the field. Get some fresh air, fly around and practice a bit for the oncoming match. Okay?"

"Hmm, okay. Don't be there for too long, though. There's still a lot of your work pending." Hermione said, pointing at his incomplete essay.

"Okay, Hermione. I'll see you later." Harry gathered his things, shot one last smile to Hermione and went to his room to get his Firebolt.

Harry didn't actually need a break from the work, but he desperately did need a break from Draco Malfoy.

As he reached the ground, Harry noticed a figure up in the air. It looked like a boy. A boy wearing green. A boy from Slytherin.

"Bloody hell!" Harry cursed under his breath. It was Draco Malfoy up there on his broom. And it looked like he also had come to practice with the snitch. He could see the little golden ball whizzing in the air.

Harry cursed again. It was as if his luck had gone sour all of a sudden. Just when he was hoping to ease out of his frustration a bit, he sees Draco right in front of him. Harry contemplated with the idea of returning back to his common room and simply avoiding Draco.

But looking at Draco's slender figure flying on the broom, his blond hair whipping around in the wind and his flushed face was something Harry could not avoid even if he wanted to.