Chapter Text
It was the night before the term ended and Draco couldn’t sleep. That wasn’t a new phenomenon. He’d been knocking back dreamless sleep potions like they were shots and he was growing an irritating tolerance to them. When he laid down at night and closed his eyes, all he could imagine was being at home with no father. He imagined that looming absence like a suffocating space. This meant instead of sleeping, he walked the halls of Hogwarts with his prefect badge shining on his chest in case of Filch until his legs ached.
He found himself at the top of the astronomy tower and noticed a long shadow loomed across the space. Someone was sitting on the spelled ledge, spelled so that no one could accidentally or otherwise jump off, with their forehead resting against their bent knees.
Draco rolled his shoulders, his mouth pulling into a scowl.
“You there,” Draco said, walking closer. “It’s after curfew.”
A low laugh escaped the person on the ledge and Draco realized it was Harry Potter. The moon was full and the light shone on his exposed side.
“I’m aware,” Potter answered, lifting his head to look at Draco, “What are you going to do about it?”
Draco’s head buzzed with annoyance. Potter was a constant pain in his ass.
“I’ll report you. You’ll be suspended,” he retorted and gripped his wand in his hand.
“Fuck it,” Potter cursed and stood to face him. Draco towered over him by a good four inches. Where Draco was slim and tall, Potter was short and stocky. Potter stood toe to toe with him, his nose a hairs breath away from Draco’s. That’s when Draco smelled the bite of vodka wafting off him. He scrunched his nose and took a step back, bringing a hand to cover his nose and mouth.
“Ugh, Potter, you smell like a distillery,” Draco side eyed him. Potter’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes glassy. His hair was a constant wreck as per usual. Potter glared at him for a few minutes, his hands in fists at his side, before his shoulders relaxed.
“Ha,” Potter said, he wandered back to his seat on the ledge. “I really don’t know. It’s pretty awful. Lavender gave it to me, said she thought it’d help me to, oh what was it... unclench.”
“Unclench?” Draco repeated, beginning to edge away from Potter. It seemed like a bad idea to be too close while he had lowered inhibitions. Potter was a thousand times more likely to murder him in the state he was in and he didn’t have plans on dying. “I’m just going to leave you to your... unclenching.”
Potter whipped his head toward him before taking quick steps back into Draco’s personal space. He grabbed Draco’s hand. Draco fought the urge to punch him, to feel bones crunch under his fist. It unsettled him at how quick he was to jump to violence with Potter.
“Unhand me,” Draco growled.
“I didn’t know I wanted you here until you appeared,” Potter said. Like a strange dream, Potter brought Draco’s hand to his face and nuzzled it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Draco asked, strangled. He tugged his wrist to pull away, but Potter tightened his grip. Draco was sure he was about to start purring like a damn cat. Green eyes flickered to his.
“You’re pretty,” Potter whispered. “Mean as a snake,” Potter snorts and then softens, “but stunning like one, too.”
Draco felt his stomach knot up and twist. He pushed Potter away from him and the inebriated idiot released him. It didn’t phase Potter though. He just turned away from Draco, stumbling forward to grab the bottle of vodka lying by the ledge on the floor.
“I’ve only ever wanted to be normal,” Potter slurred, raising the vodka to his lips and sipping. “I don’t think jerking off to my school rival is normal no matter how pretty he is.”
Draco felt all of his body go very hot. He was used to being called pretty, but definitely not by stupid Gryffindors. “Shut up, Potter.”
He reached out and snatched the bottle out of Potter’s hands. Potter’s stupid green owl eyes looked at him with shock behind his glasses frames.
“I would have shared,” Potter whined
“I think that’s enough unclenching for you, Potty,” Draco sneered.
Potter let out a pained noise, releasing a gust of air from his lungs. He seemed to deflate in front of Draco as he sunk to his knees and kept going down until his head was resting on the stone floor.
“I came up here to look at constellations. My godfather, Sirius Black, he did that with me once. Pointed out which star constellation was his.”
Draco thinned his lips. He’d use to come here because his mother had did the same with him before her disappointment had grown so much that she could barely tolerate looking at him at all. He could still faintly remember a time when he’d been small enough to sit on her lap. She’d stroked his hair and whispered into his ear about the brilliance of stars. Sometimes, if he lay very still with his eyes closed, he could remember that warm and safe feeling. It got harder to find with each passing day.
“How nice it must be to have such a close relationship with a mass murderer,” Draco sniffed. He regretted his antagonizing words when Potter leaped at him like a wild animal. He tackled him with his whole body and Draco stumbled back, barely managing to stay upright. He had the presence of mind to stumble sideways into a stone wall than to crash backwards down the astronomy stairs. His head cracked against the wall’s hard surface. Draco’s vision blurred as he wrestled with Potter. He kept aggressively pressing Draco against the wall.
“I wish you weren’t such a little shit,” Potter mumbled after slowly losing all fight in his limbs and draping himself against Draco.
“Noted,” Draco replied dryly. He shoved a little, but Potter was hanging off him like a dead weight. “Potter, what’s wrong with you?”
Potter shifted, burying his face into Draco’s shoulder, the sharp edges of his glasses pressing into Draco’s body.
“I feel so lost,” Potter whispered, his voice muffled. He pulled away from Draco. The parts that Potter had been leaning against him felt unexpectedly cold.
“I can relate,” he breathed. It surprised him that it didn’t come out scathing and bitter. His barriers that were so solid felt paper thin under the soft lighting of the moon and stars. Potter’s eyes weren’t focused when he turned and grasped Draco’s hands, palm to palm, dragging him close. Hot breath settled on his neck and he felt that new feeling he got when he looked at Potter too long. He was so near the other boy. He could taste Potter’s scent of spiced sandalwood.
“Don’t fight me,” Potter growled. It wasn’t feral, like their interactions were so often. It was gruff and hopeful. Draco was still, too unsure to move or even breathe. Potter pulled him closer, their bodies connecting at hips and chests. Draco wet his lips. Potter settled his mouth onto Draco’s neck and after a moment, licked his skin. Draco had to bite his lip from making a noise of surprise. His heart rabbited in his chest.
Potter’s lips trailed over his neck, along his jaw, then fastened against his mouth. They stayed that way, settled against each other, frozen in time before Draco kissed back, testing the heat that sparked from his lips to his toes. Potter ran his fingers through Draco’s hair at the base of his neck. He pressed against Potter seeking more.
“Oh…” Draco breathed as their lips parted for air. He brought his free hand up to grasp Potter’s bicep, finding it firm and unyielding under his fingertips. The sensation of being touched, the heat and the kisses, were overwhelming him, making his head spin.
His knees wanted to buckle and he was glad he was leaning against the wall for support. He felt light, too light and maybe a little dizzy. He found that he couldn’t drag in enough air to soothe his aching lungs. The weight of Potter against him began to feel like too much.
He pushed Potter off him and stumbled the few steps to the ladder that would lead him away from the Astronomy Tower.
“Malfoy, wait,” Potter called after him. He ignored him. He was fairly certain that Potter wasn’t following him. It seemed to take seconds to get back to Slytherin dorms. He was grateful that no one was in the Common Room when he entered. He wasn’t sure if he could pretend that he was fine.
He dressed for bed and downed a numbing potion and then another dreamless sleep. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled the curtains of his bed around him as he laid down. He did eventually find sleep, his last thought on repeat. What have a I done?