Title:Opaque - Part 2/2
Rumors, Harry thought gloomily, would be the downfall of human society.
Dear Hermione and Ron, Harry wrote neatly. The parchment was puny, and he had quite a lot to say. Their visits were limited by two factors; one, Harry couldn't speak. Being unable to participate in a conversation did kill it a bit and two, the Ministry required a Prison Visa for all visitors. This meant that every time Hermione and Ron wanted to visit him they had to apply for a visa, and Umbridge was the one approving and rejecting the visa applications.
Needless to say, Harry hadn't seen them of late.
I have recently heard of some news that I was curious about…actually, I've heard quite few things that I want to ask you about. Is Ginny dating Dean again? I mean it’s okay. I told her to move on, and that there was no point in waiting for me, but you know. I just am curious.
Hear me out on this one. I think Malfoy's planning to escape. Don't roll your eyes at me, Hermione! He's been acting really suspicious and had a wrench! What innocent thing could one possibly do with a wrench? I'm pretty sure Snape has something to do with it. I feel it. Stop laughing, Ron! Not as in that "it." This is serious. I think Malfoy is planning to kill me.
I suppose you want to know about me and not Malfoy. Things are okay here. The mattress here feels like it's stuffed with rocks! I couldn't get used to it at first, but I'm sleeping all right now.
How are things with everyone? How was Remus's wedding?
Harry glanced over the letter. It seemed really choppy, but it said everything that he wanted to say and more. Harry glanced around. Malfoy was still doing something involving the piano and grunting, and Stan was off obtaining some more Big Macs to sell.
Malfoy stopped fiddling with the piano and walked toward the barren courtyard. Harry followed. Malfoy turned right and headed into the bathroom. Harry waited outside. After about five minutes he walked in only to find it empty.
Harry hit the wall and watched as a few tiles fell loose and crashed to the ground. Sharp pains shot through his fingers before he realized he was bleeding.
I'm working with a new defense attorney. Your trial date is coming up! Don't worry, we have everything worked out. I would explain in further detail, but I know the mail is censored. You need to forget this thing with Malfoy. It isn't your business to be investigating the plans of criminals. I've lodged a formal complaint and it's being investigated…or rather it should be. I know the war was tough for you, but it also gave you a sense of purpose. You do not need the war to live your life, Harry, nor should you want to relive it. It's not healthy.
The wedding was lovely! I only wish you could have been there. Ginny's been doing better…she would love to see you if would let her. She and Dean…I don't know if they are really dating. It's more that they are friends binding together in tough times. She still loves you, you know. I know that you don't want a relationship because you believe for whatever reason that you don't deserve it, but you do Harry. You really do. We want you to be happy.
Ron and I have bought a new place, and there is an extra bedroom should you still want to live with us.
Hermione and Ron
"Society prepares the crime; the criminal commits it."
The heat was like a wave of molten tar flowing over him. Draco sat near the wall attempting to fix the sink which had stopped after he accidentally dented one of the pipes while knocking out a piece of the wall. The last thing he needed was for Potter to attempt to wash his hands or something and notice that the sink wasn't working.
Draco tried to bend the pipe back into place using brute force only to have the pipe bend entirely in the wrong direction before the wrench slipped, causing Draco to fall back. Draco stared at the wrench.
"I hate you," he said to it. Excellent, he was now reduced to talking to inanimate objects. Could his life become any more pathetic? Next he would put on geeky thick-framed owl glasses and say things like "I must save them all!"
Draco shed the scratchy outer robe leaving only a ragged shirt and trousers on. The sweat, which had started out as a mere layer on his skin, was now dripping in rivulets along the side of his face and down his back, making concentration quite impossible. Draco pulled off his shirt and threw it on his bed.
Something creaked. Draco froze. He had managed to evade Potter earlier, but he couldn't be so lucky twice in a day. Potter had been following him around nonstop for the past week. It was infuriating and at the same time charming because Potter still cared. Potter still considered him a threat, he was human to Potter. It almost made being stalked worth it.
Another creak. Draco ignored it. Perhaps if he connected this pipe to that pipe the water would—
"Ahh!" Water suddenly shot at Draco's face. Quickly turning the pipe down, he assessed the damage. Water had sprayed the opposite wall and was dripping on the floor, but other than that everything seemed to be fine. The cool water slid down like a snake across the sand covering his chest. A creak and the door swung open. Draco shoved the sink back into place, covering the hole in the wall.
Potter walked into the cell looking broody and moody for lack of better terms. He gave Draco a hard look before walking past him…toward the sink. Potter tried the cold water knob and then the hot. Harry fiddled with the knobs trying to make them work. With each passing moment Draco's heart beat faster till he felt it would explode.
Harry began to bend down to check if something was wrong with the pump, and it was like Draco had just woken up to find someone lighting a bonfire on his chest, he sprang into action.
"No! Potter! Don't!" Potter looked bewildered and then suspicious. He squatted on the ground and started to meddle around with the pipes. What now? Any moment know the cement would crumble and Draco would be as good as dead…
Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, Snape's voice rang through his head. It was classic and genius.
"Potter, you can't look down there because I'm up here," Draco said mournfully. Potter stood up again, looking strangely worried.
"Potter…" Merlin, he couldn't believe he was going to do this. "I l-l-want you," Draco finished before grabbing the front of Harry's robe and pulling him close. Harry looked so shocked Draco was talking to him that he didn't react. Draco bent down (well, he tilted his head, he simply couldn't believe that scrawny Potter had somehow caught up to him in height.) and kissed him. Potter stood rigid for a minute before—
"Oomph!" Draco yelped as Potter threw him into the wall, and then punched him in the gut. Potter glared at him before walking away, wiping his mouth and spitting on the floor.
Mission accomplished. Draco resisted the urge to jump up and whoop.
Stan Shunpike had the gift for lacking talent. He could talk to anyone about anything because he was essentially a nobody who enjoyed being able to talk to powerful people without them feeling threatened. However, it also meant people gave him information because there was nothing he could do to stop what was going to happen.
If ever there was a powerful person it was Harry Potter. Even without the power of speech Harry seemed above prison politics or politics in general. Harry did the right thing.
"The thing is that no one cares about you unless you have something to give them. What do you have that Malfoy wants?" Stan asked to Harry one morning after Harry showed him the letter he had written to Hermione.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Harry mouthed. Unlike Malfoy, Stan was talented at lip reading.
Stan followed Malfoy's gaze to the back of Harry's head.
"I think you're wrong there, Harry," Stan said.
Infidelity was a bitch to deal with. For years Voldemort had been his greatest enemy. For a time after the war, he had been his own greatest enemy rehashing every failed mission of the past. Now, time was his enemy, time was running out, and he was no closer to figuring out what Malfoy was planning to do.
After Malfoy practically mauled him, he had returned only to find the sink in perfect working condition. Malfoy obviously had a stash of tools somewhere. Now where could he possibly hide them, so that no one would notice, and yet be easily accessible to him as well? He had examined the wall, and the only things out of the ordinary were some carvings of initials, and that was hardly uncommon here. L.M and S.S. had probably occupied the cell before them judging from the sharp edges.
Harry watched Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. It was around seven, meaning it was around the time that Malfoy came in to shower. Not many people showered at this time and Harry had a perfect view of Malfoy's usual spot.
Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy walked into the stall next to Harry. Most unusual. What was Malfoy trying to pull? Was he going to reach over and stab Harry? Or kiss him? Harry didn't know which was worse.
You're obsessed, Hermione's voice rang in his head. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was some sick desire to relive the past again and again. It was entirely possible that Malfoy had helped him to pay back a debt, but as far as Harry could remember their little debt game had started with that…which left Stan's reasoning that Malfoy needed something from him. Harry just had a saving people thing.
Harry wanted to tell people about Malfoy. He wanted people to be on their guard, so they could stop him before he did something. He didn't want Dumbledore to die again…
He tilted his head to get further under the jet stream of water and was treated to a view of Malfoy's backside. It gleamed a creamy white of the overly inbred...or a vampire. He could make out Malfoy's bony hips from where he stood. Hmm…it looked like Malfoy was gaining weight.
Strange, because he knew for a fact that Malfoy wasn't eating in the dining hall. Perhaps he did have someone on the outside helping him. Malfoy turned around suddenly, showing off his soapy chest. Harry wondered why the walls separating the stalls weren't higher.
Obsessed! Hermione said. Harry silenced the voice, she had been wrong about Malfoy before, she could be wrong again. After being essentially isolated from having conversations with people for so long he was beginning to have them in his head. It was kind of strange, but better than the silence that seemed to destroy any semblance of sanity he had left.
God, Malfoy had perfect skin. It really wasn't fair. Even at age nineteen he was still getting zits. Wasn't that supposed to stop at fifteen?
Harry closed his eyes and allowed the water to run over him. His time was going to run out soon, and he needed to rinse the soap out of his hair. He glanced over at Malfoy just to make sure he hadn't left early and caught a glimpse of Malfoy's half-hard cock.
Harry took a deep breath. It's natural, right? Just another physical reaction to stimuli Hermione had told him.
Harry looked down in horror and saw that his cock was also rising to the occasion.
Must be the pheromones, Ron’s voice said. Malfoy's pretty for a guy and looks good in green, which happens to be one of your favorite colors!
What kind of crap Ron characterization did his mind have? Seriously, Ron would never say that! Harry stood still for another minute avoiding Malfoy's curious gaze on the back of his neck. The timer dinged, and the water switched to cold.
Thank god for that.
It was beyond hate, it was loathing that Draco felt for Potter. The steamy August night had left little room for thought or speculation as to what happened in the shower. The pure nerve of Potter making him hard! How dare he! It was a violation of Draco's privacy. Draco refused to believe it was the water sluicing down Potter's body that made him hard, rather it was merely the fact he hadn't been intimate with anyone lately…never mind the fact he hadn't been intimate at all.
It wasn't even an isolated incident. Curse Potter's green eyes. Veritaserum be damned, Potter staring at him made him want to sing like a canary. They followed him everywhere. It was like having a conscience, judging him, waiting for him to slip up. It was driving him crazy, and he wanted nothing more than for Potter to stop watching him.
Draco lay naked on top his bed having stripped off his clothing. The air was so hot and heavy it felt like someone had poured mercury on his body.
Draco glanced across the room and saw Potter sleeping, sprawled across the mattress without a shirt. He could see individual drops of perspiration on Potter’s chest. It was far too hot; looking at Potter sweaty was making him even hotter. Ice think ice, thought Draco.
Potter gave a snore before turning over. Draco had overheard Stan discussing his next order of Dreamless Sleep Potion that Potter was buying, meaning that Draco could probably hammer away and Potter wouldn't wake up.
He reached down and ran his fingers through Potter's hair. It was surprisingly soft, Draco thought as he tugged on the heavy silken strands. Like raw silk. Suddenly, Potter opened his eyes. Shocked, Draco slipped and pitched forward right onto Potter's sweaty chest.
"Ew! Potter, move!" Draco yelled as struggled to untangle himself from the mass of limbs.
Potter twisted in such a way that their groins made contact. Draco moaned and reflexively rocked his hips forward. Harry—Potter's eyes widened, revealing his already dilated pupils.
It was too hot, far too hot for any sort of body contact. Draco slid off the bed onto the floor, gasping for breath.
No, this was not the time to get distracted. Draco crawled back into his bed and lay there. The adrenaline was still coursing through his body and his cock wasn't wilting.
He could feel Potter's eyes watching him all throughout the night.
"Who's the coward now, Potter? Have to run to the Warden with a completely ludicrous theory about me trying to dig a hole behind the sink. Hate to tell you, Potter, but I'd be digging toward the next room, not to mention we're on the third floor!" Malfoy shouted at him the next day. Apparently, Hermione's request for an investigation had gone through.
"I know who you are, and I don't like you anymore now than I did back when we were in school." Harry resolutely stared at the wall above Malfoy's head. How dare he judge him?
"You think you're so great that you're somehow exempted from pain? You are a MURDERER. You are no better than the rest of us!" A murderer? It was better than sitting around waiting for someone else to kill the bad guy! Harry had done the world a great favor by removing Voldemort.
Harrry moved to hit him, but Malfoy grabbed his arm, his fingers digging into the skin on his forearm.
"This is the part where you're supposed to say you're sorry, and offer me champagne or dinner, and make it up to me. That or give me some stupid excuse of how you couldn't save me! What kind of crap hero are you?" Draco said.
Harry walked away. For the first time since the incident he felt slightly guilty…Malfoy was only human after all. It would be horrible to be judged based solely on a mistake or two you made when you were a teenager.
Sympathizing with the enemy! Ron's voice ran through his head.
Harry couldn't sleep. It wasn't necessarily from guilt, rather from the fact every time he closed his eyes he kept seeing Percy Weasley's face as cold and perfect as marble lying on the grass and Ginny's grief stricken eyes. He remembered trying to tell her that Percy had been under Imperius and had attacked him first, but somehow the words hadn't come out.
Ginny still couldn't look him in the eye.
All right, perhaps it was guilt. He didn't think they would actually hurt Malfoy…Malfoy always seemed to slither out of any situation. Harry rolled out of bed and tried to figure out how to apologize. He settled with patting Malfoy’s shoulder.
It was strange how he almost expected Malfoy to keep him out of all bad situations. It was like an exclusive right that they could only beat the mickey out of each other.
"Cease the incessant thwacking of my arm! I'm awake," said Malfoy. Harry coughed.
"Oh, what? You're sorry, Potter? Ha! You have nothing to offer me. Nothing. Hell, you can't even give me words of comfort."
You probably don't deserve them anyway.
Harry leaned in and stared at the minute faded freckles on Malfoy’s face.
"Potter…you're in my space."
We're two people in a cell the size of a closet.
"Potter—!" Harry leaned in and kissed him. It was violent; there was no other word to describe it. Harry pushed Malfoy onto the bed, kissing his lips lightly before moving down and sucking on Malfoy’s neck. Somehow Malfoy flipped them over so that Harry was now on the bottom.
Malfoy…he should probably call him Draco now that his tongue was in Draco's mouth, shifted so that his leg was in-between Harry's thighs. Instinctively, Harry squeezed his thighs so that Draco's knee pushed right—
Harry let his head fall back. Draco's face came into view.
"Virgin, are we?" He asked. Draco ran a hand down his chest and then back up. A sharp jolt went through him as Malfoy paused to pinch his nipples. Harry gasped and pressed his hips into Malfoy's. It was terribly hot and slightly unnerving how good it felt.
Draco reached down and undid the buttons of his trousers. Harry blushed and his temperature seemed to have gone up another fifteen degrees. Harry returned the favor and they both groaned as their naked hips connected for the first time.
Everything was going to change Harry thought later that night.
Draco sat waiting for Snape. How had it all gone so wrong? Harry—Potter, wasn't even good looking. The hair was hideous, the eyes were okay if you enjoyed spring, but Draco was more of a winter child. Most of all he hated Harry's kisses even more. They made him forget his father and his mission. He hated them. He didn't even like boys, he liked girls with hips and breasts!
Right and the Nile is simply another river in Egypt. His father's voice rang sarcastically in his head.
Damn Harry's kisses for making him feel better than his father ever did. Just being around Harry made him feel alive. He was nothing of his former self, he had neither influence nor money, but Harry made him feel important again.
"Draco, how have you been?" Snape asked sweeping into the room like a large overgrown bat.
"There is a problem," Draco said abruptly. No point in dancing around the point.
"Potter knows. Well, he doesn't know know, but he suspects and keeps following me around." Draco said. Well…following Draco and pushing him up against the wall and snogging him until Draco looked like he had a tussle involving a hair brush and a vacuuming charm. Draco decided it would be best to keep that part to himself.
Snape's frowned deepened bringing out the harsh lines of his face.
"Don't do anything stupid and stay the hell away from Potter," Snape advised.
Draco rolled his eyes. It was too late for that, everything had changed.
"It's er…not that simple…," Draco started.
"Potter, it's been two months. Why can't you talk yet?" Draco asked one fine night as he lay across Harry.
"And don't you dare shrug noncommittally at me!" Harry stopped with his shoulder half up and instead opted for a two shoulder shrug plus a smirk. The truth was that he had been wondering the same thing. He hadn't talked for so long that it felt weird to even try. Maybe he couldn't talk anymore; maybe he had forgotten how to talk!
"I don't think you could really forget how to talk considering you hear people talk around you. Try and say something," Draco said, reading his thoughts.
Harry opened his mouth, unsure of how to proceed, and turned away. He didn't want this now.
Draco didn't say anything for a moment.
"Perhaps you simply lack the motivation to speak?" Draco said, stretching out like a cat preparing to pounce. Harry moved back. Draco was smiling crookedly, which generally did not bode well for him. Draco quickly pressed him down onto the bed and pushed his robes aside and pants down before licking the head of his cock.
Harry felt all his blood rush south in anticipation. Draco twisted his tongue and reached down to stroke the sensitive skin behind Harry’s balls.
Harry gasped, unable to handle the silence. A rush of air flew out of his mouth. He arched his back as his fingers scrambled to hold something….anything that would root him to something concrete. God, it was too good. Draco grabbed the base of his cock before he could come. Harry took a deep breath, recovering from what felt like a thirty foot free fall.
"Like that, Potter?" Draco smirked.
"Tragic, Potter. Since you don't find this pleasurable, I guess I'll just stop. I know when I'm not wanted."
"No!" Harry croaked out. His voice was a cross between a young soprano and a dying cat, but it was a voice all the same. His voice! It was back!
"Told you, Potter, it's all about having the right motivation." Harry laughed, for the first time in months a real sound came out.
"So, was that a no, you don't want me to stop?" Harry tackled Draco onto the bed, pinning Draco’s arms above his head and sitting on his stomach.
"You're crazy," Harry said, smiling in his breathy falsetto.
"You're kind of smelly," Draco replied, wrinkling his nose. Harry rolled off him and went to go shower.
"Malfoy spends an awful amount of time with that piano, have you noticed?" Stan said to Harry later that week as they watched Malfoy tinker with it.
"Yeah, it's his project I suppose. It seems like everyone has one." Harry responded.
"Really? What's yours then?"
Harry smiled and opened his mouth to respond, but didn't. The piano! It had been in front of him all along. Harry walked over to Draco.
"What's wrong with it?" he asked calmly.
"Nothing much, just a few broken strings," Draco said, a tad too fast. Harry opened the lid to reveal a sack of concrete chunks and various tools. Well that explained how Draco closed up the wall so well. He looked up at Draco.
"I can't believe you—," Harry started.
"Shut up! You have no idea what I'm trying to do. For all you know I could be planning to assassinate—."
"You have thirty minutes," Harry said abruptly. He couldn't deal with Malfoy anymore. A leopard could never change its spots no matter what it did. He couldn't believe that Malfoy would attempt something so foolhardy again.
Malfoy opened and close his mouth before running out of the room. Harry turned and headed for Jude's office. There wasn't any loyalty amongst murderers, liars, and thieves, and Malfoy should know that by now.
STAY WHERE YOU ARE YOU SILLY BOY…open a glass of wine to celebrate your future demise. Just remember to offer Potter a glass. –Snape
"Mr. Potter, this news is most shocking. If you can prove that he is in fact planning to escape, I will grant you immediate removal from our facilities," Jude said.
"I can. Look in the piano," Harry said much more calmly than he felt.
Jude gestured to the guards in the room. They returned a few minutes later with the tools and concrete.
"Hmm…it seems as though you were not crying wolf this time."
"Yeah," Harry said, shifting in the uncomfortable wooden chair.
"I shall discuss an alternative place for you to complete your probation with Umbridge. You should be released in a few hours," Jude said. Harry stared. His initial assessment of the man was completely wrong, he did know how to use his position and he didn't abuse his power. How on earth was this man on Umbridge's staff?
"Thank you," Harry said before leaving. Life just got stranger and stranger.
"Love, for me, is an extremely violent act. Love is not 'I love you all.' Love means picking out something; it's a structure of imbalance. Even if this something is just a small detail, a fragile individual person, I say 'I love you more than anything else.' In this, quite formal sense, love is evil." -- Slavoj Zizek
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry…but you don't know what'll happen if you went through with it. They would have killed you before you reached anywhere near the border," Harry said after returning to their cell to find Malfoy sitting with his head in his hands. Malfoy looked up but didn't say anything, choosing instead to stare off at a point above Harry's head.
"I could use a drink right about now. What say you, Potter? Will you drink to my death?" Harry took the glass of homemade booze Malfoy offered and downed it all in one gulp. Malfoy did the same.
Harry sighed. He didn't know what else to say. He knew the consequences of his actions…now he had to live with them.
"Look, I don't want to leave on bad terms." Harry stopped. What was he thinking? He essentially sold his lover out. "I'll get you out of here. I will. I'll use my fame and money and—!"
"You're an idiot, Potter. You trust too easily. It was Dumbledore's greatest flaw, and he passed it onto you."
"What?" Suddenly the room felt too hot, and he was overtaken by crippling pain.
"I didn't want to, Potter, you have to understand. It's the only way. They'll never free me," Draco gasped, doubling over as if he too were in pain. What was happening to them?
After a few minutes Harry felt the pain recede. He felt oddly unfamiliar and unsteady as he stood up. The world was a blurry distorted mass of colors and shapes.
"I need those," Malfoy said, plucking the glasses off Harry's face. Harry gasped in shock as he found himself staring at what appeared to be a living breathing twin.
"Mr. Potter, you are free to go. I do hope you enjoyed your stay here and will perhaps put in a good word for me in the Ministry," the guard said, opening the door. Harry moved toward the door. A second guard stood behind them.
"Not you, Mr. Malfoy." What? Harry caught a reflection of himself in his own glasses only to find himself staring at a reflection of Malfoy.
"Potter," Malfoy nodded at him before walking past him and into freedom.
"Wait! He's not Harry Potter! I am!" Harry called out to the guards. They ignored him, and he began to laugh. He laughed until the Polyjuice wore off and the guards were forced to admit their mistake. He laughed as the headlines flashed signs of yet another escaped Death Eater. He laughed in their face as they led him out into the open air. The salty breeze rode past him until his laughter turned to pain, and then he stopped.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I did not foresee this," Jude Neil had said to him after Harry's appeal was over. "I'm afraid that I had faulty information."
Harry shrugged. He had gotten out anyway; it didn't matter to him now.
Liar, liar, pants on fire! Hermione's voice taunted him. Harry quickly pushed it out of his mind.
"The Department of Mysteries sent me to protect you…and I failed. I am truly sorry." he continued. Oh, well that explained his slight competency.
"I understand. Things happened and Malfoy pulled a fast one on both of us," Harry said attempting to sound comforting.
Jude looked around before handing Harry a package of papers.
"It's the deed for an apartment in London. Not too far from Diagon Alley, but far enough that the reporters won't hound you. It's the least I could do." He finished.
Harry stared at the deed in his hand. This was it; this was his chance at a new life.
"Would you like some fries with that, sir?" a young man asked him at a McDonald's, Harry had taken to eating at to avoid the paparazzi. The restaurant was a short distance from his flat, and it was a convenient place to eat when he didn't feel like cooking for himself. Not to mention the Muggle world often disoriented the reporters.
"I really think you should order the fries." The young man smiled nervously.
"I'm fine, really."
"Take it!" The young man threw a container of small fries onto his tray.
"Didn't you hear me? I don't want any bloody fries!" Harry exclaimed.
"Eat it!" the young man said, his eyes looking everywhere but at Harry. Crazy teenagers. Harry couldn't believe he'd ever acted like that.
Harry sat down at a booth by himself and ate in relative peace. When he finally reached the bottom of the container of fries, he noticed a small grease-stained piece of paper.
Harry whirled around. Draco—no—Malfoy was standing behind him, wearing a McDonald's uniform.
Draco cocked his head to one side. "I'm off. I think you should take me out for an expensive meal somewhere."
"Chop-chop, Potter, I don't have all night."
Harry stood up.
"You polyjuiced me!" Harry yelled completely forgetting the Muggles around them.
"I did it for us."
"No, you did it for your father." Draco was silent for a minute.
"So you know about that?" he said.
"Look, Potter. Despite our numerous differences, and your inability to comb your hair, I like you. I made a choice, I went and talked to Granger, and I'm not following through for my father…I followed his footsteps into Azkaban and I don't want to end up dead. Granger's working with Snape and a new defense attorney," Draco said.
"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England. Sod off," Harry yelled, and then lowered his voice as people around them started to stare. Harry picked up his tray and walked away. This was ridiculous! Hermione wouldn't do anything like that. Once a liar always a liar. Harry pushed open the door and began walking out on the street back towards his flat.
"You-you-you coward!" Draco's voice floated past him. Harry stopped and turned around.
"God, Draco. I didn't think you were so narcissistic that you would project your characteristics onto me, but I was wrong," Harry said bitingly.
"I'm not the one who's afraid of being happy," Draco said, crossing his arms. Harry lost it, all those nights preoccupied with thinking how things might have been caught up to him. He lunged at Draco.
Draco sidestepped him and pushed him up against the wall of the McDonald's and kissed him, or rather mashed their faces together. Without realizing it Harry started to respond. They kept on kissing until an angry mother came and told them off for scarring her young children.
"Potter..." Draco said after the woman left.
"All right," Harry finally responded, trying to regain his senses. Yes, this just might work.