Summer 5/Part E

“I’m sorry.”

“Say it again.”

“No!”

Harry loosened his grip on Draco’s legs and he slid a little further down.  “Bloody hell, Potter.  Fine, I’m sorry.   I’m sorry I called your mother a whore and a mudblood, and I’m sorry I kicked you in the back of the legs, I’m sorry I was such a prat, I’m sorry I stole the dragon whisker and let Snape blame it on you, I’m sorry I punched you, I’m sorry I made fun of you last year, and I’m sorry for whatever else you want me to be sorry for!  Now will you please just pull me up?!”

It was tempting not to.  It was kind of fun holding Malfoy over the edge of the tower, listening to him apologise, but fair was fair.  Pulling him up, Harry dumped him on the ground and sat beside him, breathless.

After Draco had said that, Harry had flown into him with fists and feet, kicking and hitting at everything he could manage.  They’d grappled and somehow ended up against the edge of the tower.   When Draco had toppled over, Harry had grabbed his legs.  His sudden rush of adrenaline had been gone, but with the Slytherin practically begging to be pulled up, Harry had seized the opportunity to make him apologise.  Of course, none of this changed the fact that they were stuck on a tower until Snape magically decided to worry about them, but it did make him feel much better about it.

Draco scooted up and touched his nose tentatively.  “I think you broke it.”

“I didn’t break it.”  Harry looked at Draco’s swollen face with no small amount of pride.

“How would you know?”

He didn’t, but he didn’t think a little blood and swelling meant it was broken.  Still, as they sat there quietly, he started to feel bad.  He’d just been so angry.  Finally, with a sigh, he rolled his head to look at Draco sitting next to him, “I’m sorry about your nose.”

“You should be.”

“You make it very difficult for anyone to be around you.”

Draco stopped and looked at him for a moment before he too sighed, “Fine.”  A few seconds later, “And I am sorry I said… what I said.”  He couldn’t bring himself to go further and admit that he had done it because he’d been angry that Harry was right.  He had started to whole bloody thing.

Harry nodded, “Apology accepted… Draco.”

With a start, Draco looked over, but Harry had already turned away and was peering over the edge of the tower despondently.  Had Harry just called him by his given name?  Was that meant to be some kind of peace offering?  It had sounded like one.

“I…” But he couldn’t think of anything to say, really.  

Harry looked out over the grounds and frowned.  He’d come out here hoping to get a glimpse of the surprise that the Professors kept talking about, but there was nothing.  Just grass and tree tops.  Then Draco had shown up and now they were stuck out there with nothing to do and he hadn’t brought any food with him, because he’d intended to be back with a few hours.

Draco sniffed next to him, but he refused to feel any guiltier about Malfoy’s bleeding nose.  If he hadn’t wanted to get punched, he shouldn’t have said anything about Harry’s mother.  Draco leaned in towards him, “What are you looking for anyway?”

“There’s going to be something going on next year, only I don’t know what.  I was kind of hoping I could see something.”

“Is that all?”

Harry looked over and saw Draco smirking, although a little more stiffly than usual, “What do you mean ‘is that all?’”

Draco shrugged, his smirk not faltering, “It’s not all that big of a deal, it’s not like we’re going to get to participate, anyway.”

“Participate in what?”

“You really don’t know?”

Now, Harry was starting to get annoyed.  “No.  What is it?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Do you want me to hang you off the tower, again?”  Not that he would, but it did the trick. 

Draco paled slightly and set his jaw stubbornly, “Fine, it’s the Triwizard Tournament and you’re not to tell any of your little friends, or I’ll get into trouble.”

Harry tried to tell himself that he didn’t care if Draco got in trouble and, when that failed, he nodded.  “What’s the TriWizard Tournament?”

“It’s a competition between wizarding schools.  Each school gets to have one champion fighting for it and they compete in three tasks.  It’s supposed to be really dangerous, so only the sixth and seventh years get to try out for it.”

The idea of other wizarding schools was fascinating.  Logically, it made sense.  Hogwarts couldn’t possibly be the only one, but he’d never really thought about it before.  “How do you try out?”

“Don’t know.  I suppose we’ll find out next year.”

Harry abandoned his lookout and sat down next to Draco, “So, what are the tasks?”

“Well, they’re different every year.”  He eyed Harry suspiciously, looking for any trace of deception.   Nothing.  The Gryffindor boy was sitting with his legs crossed and his eyes wide with interest.  “One year they made them fight a Troll.”

Harry smiled, “Really?”

There was no mocking behind it and Draco felt himself relax.   “Yeah, they had to try and knock it out.   One of the competitors almost died.”   He launched into the story, telling Harry everything that his mother had told him when she’d been warning him not to try and enter it.  Every few minutes, Harry shifted on the stone floor, but he never took his eyes off Draco.

For the first time, Draco really had his attention and he was finding, much to his own despair, that he was enjoying it.  “So, then the Hogwart’s champion cast Aguamentia…” Harry laughed, but it was all amusement and interest.  Oh, well, he’d deal with his feelings later.

_____________________

When Professor Snape finally came and rescued them nearly seven hours later, Harry was in a brilliant mood.  He’d never been so exhilarated during the summer.  The TriWizard Tournament sounded exciting and he couldn’t wait to see what kind of tasks the Champions would have to face.  He hoped not Trolls, though, because he’d had enough of them in first year.

They’d talked about the tournament for a while until Draco couldn’t think of anything else to say, then they’d eaten the sweets that Harry had brought with him and laid in the sun while they tried to think of something else to talk about.

Draco flopped onto his back, his hand hitting Harry’s shoulder and resting there.  “It’s bright.”

Harry shifted his legs so that the flats of his feet were against the ground.  “It’s high noon.  Of course, it’s bright.”

“And it’s hot.”  Draco sat up again and tugged his shirt off, throwing it in a corner.

Harry tried very hard to pretend that he wasn’t staring at the pale, smooth skin or the tight abs.  No, because if he were going to stare at another boy naked, it shouldn’t be Draco, it should be… he halted in mid-thought.  Who else would he stare at?  Not Neville.  Seamus wasn’t bad when he kept his mouth closed, but he rarely did that.  Dean, maybe.  It was strange, but with Oliver gone, he was having a great deal of trouble finding someone to distract him from his attraction to Draco. 

“Come on, Potter, take it off, unless you want it to be drenched with sweat by the end of the afternoon, which would ruin it.  The last thing you need is a closet full of nice clothes with sweat stains.”

Harry, unable to come up with a proper response, tugged the shirt off over his head and laid back down, staring at the passing clouds.  That one looked like… “A horse.”

Draco lolled his head over to look at Harry. “What?”

“That cloud, right there, it looks like a horse.”

Draco looked up and tilted his head the way Harry’s was.   “It does not, the legs are way too long and there’s hardly any neck.”

“Then what does it look like to you?”

“A cloud.”  Harry elbowed him and Draco grunted.  “Oh fine, it looks like… a hippocampus.

“What’s that?”

Draco scoffed at him, but when Harry looked over there was surprisingly nothing malicious in Draco’s face, “For someone who’s spent the last six years at Hogwarts, you are surprisingly muggle.”

He flushed in embarrassment and shrugged, “Stuff it, Malfoy.  So, what is it?”

“It’s a magical creature, obviously.  Half horse, half fish.”

Harry nodded, “I see.  So, that’s the fin back there.  Okay, what’s that one, then?”

Draco shifted his head closer and squinted his eyes.  “A kneazle sniffing a pile of gold.”  Harry laughed and Draco felt a tingle go up his spine.  “Harry?”

Saying ‘Harry’ felt somehow wrong and incredibly right all at the same time, but if the Harry had noticed anything odd in it, he didn’t say anything.  “What?”

“I…”  He had an idea, but he wasn’t entirely sure it would work, or that Harry wouldn’t see through it.   “I wanted to give you a birthday present.”

“You already did.”

Draco rolled over and found himself practically nose to nose with Harry.  “Oh.  What was it?”

“A little practice snitch.  I think it’s real gold.”

“That was very generous of me.”

“I thought so.”

They were quiet for a moment, while Draco considered going on, but he was saved the trouble when Harry broke the silence, “Is that why you asked what I wanted earlier, because you wanted to get me something?”

“No.”  It was an automatic response and he nearly bit his tongue for it.  If he was going to be friendly with Harry, he’d have to stop being so defensive.   He could be cautious without being blatantly rude and denying everything on principle.  With a sigh, he rolled back over to stare up at the clouds.  “Fine, yes, that’s why I asked.”

He could still feel the other boy’s eyes on him and chanced a glance over.  Gods, but Harry could be attractive when he smiled like that.  Had he just thought Harry was attractive?  “Well then, what would you get me?”

“Let me think.”

Harry chuckled, but didn’t look away.  For the past few hours things had been so… different.  He could almost forget that it was Draco-the-prat-Malfoy he was talking to.  It was almost like they were friends.

“I’ve got it.  Since I already spent so much money on you, I’d… toss you off.”

Almost.

Harry couldn’t do anything other than blink for a several seconds, trying to decide if he had really heard that correctly.  Malfoy’s neck and ears were bright pink, so Harry decided that, yes, he had heard it correctly.  “You’d toss me off?”

The pink spread up into his cheeks.  “Sure.  Why not?  It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “That’s not… I owed you, that’s why.  It wasn’t because I wanted to or anything.”  Of course, he’d enjoyed it and he wanted to do it again, but that had nothing to do with what they were talking about now.  Did it?

Draco’s nonchalant shrug was belied by the fact that he was still a very striking shade of pink.  “Look, Potter, you asked what I’d get you.”

“But, that’s not a present, Malfoy, that’s you trying to… oh, that’s what this is about, isn’t it?  You want to.”

The pink fled from his face, leaving it pale.  “No, I don’t.”

Harry sat up, pointing at Draco, “Yes, you do.  You’re just using this present thing as an excuse to get off.”

Draco sat up as well, “I am not!”

They stared each other down for several seconds.  Harry didn’t know how he felt about the idea of wanking with Malfoy again, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was getting turned on.  Remembering the way Malfoy’s hand had felt moving along his cock sent waves of pleasure from his stomach to his groin.  So… so, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing if Malfoy wanted to as well.  They were stuck on the roof of the school, with no chance of rescue for several more hours.  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to…

“Forget it, Potter.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Draco, who had been in process of lying back down, stopped.  “What?”

“I wouldn’t mind doing… you know, if you wanted to.”

Harry waited to be mocked.  He had no doubt that Draco wanted it, when the Slytherin was playing a prank, he didn’t blush or get embarrassed, he was always very sure of himself.  By the pink of Draco’s cheeks, he was sure that he was on the level, but that didn’t mean that Draco wouldn’t change his mind.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Draco didn’t mock him, although he didn’t smile or say anything encouraging, either.  After nearly a minute, he nodded at Harry, “Okay.”

Harry watched him lie down again and start to undo his trousers, then scrabbled to do the same.  A few seconds later, they were laying, trousers around their knees, staring at the sky in favour of each other, trying to get hard.

Draco once again tried to think about Pansy, but found that it really wasn’t helping, so he reluctantly switched gears and thought about a magazine he had at home on Quidditch.  Then, he cursed himself, because at the thought of sweaty, muscular men, his penis had stood to full attention.  Harry, who had already been half hard from the mere thought of what they were going to do, didn’t even bother to think about girls, they had never been a part of his masturbatory fantasies, no matter how hard he had tried. Instead, he steered his thoughts immediately to Oliver Wood.

He felt Draco’s hand tentatively reach out and take his hardened penis in hand and did the same, though there was nothing hesitant in Harry’s touch.  He thought about Oliver in the shower, naked and scrubbing himself with a large bar of soap, water shining off his body in the dim light.  He’d never done anything with Oliver, but he imagined that if he had, they would have done it in the shower, under the water.  He imagined that Oliver would be hard against him, pressing him into the wall.

Draco moaned next to him, a soft airy sound, but it was enough.   The image of Oliver was replaced by one of Draco, not towering over him as the older boy had done, but standing at his same height, their chests pressed together, their legs tangled, their hips…

He moaned, as well.  This just wasn’t right.  He shouldn’t be thinking about Draco; shouldn’t be thinking about his pale arse, or his pale, sturdy arms, or his shoulders.  Draco had wonderful shoulders, not too broad, but broad enough.  Draco twisted his hand a little and Harry felt his balls tighten.

Speeding up his own efforts, Draco tensed beside him and a warm flow of cum spurted over his hand.  Oh, god, that just did it.  He came, as well, unable to stop the sounds that issued from his throat.  Reluctantly, he removed his hand from the other boy’s cock and set it next to him, panting.  Why the hell was he out of breath, anyway?

Draco sighed, “You’re really good at that.”

Harry fought the urge to jerk his head around and stare openly.   Had the great Draco Malfoy just complimented him on something?  Granted, it was about how well he could jerk off another boy, but there were worse things to be complimented on.  “You’re really good, too.”

“Shut up, Potter, I think I need a nap.”  Draco pulled up his trousers and wiped his hand on the end of his shirt, before turning over and tucking an arm under his head.

Harry just managed not to chuckle at him as he did the same.   Yeah, a nap sounded good.

-tbc-