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Touching Lips

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The first time it happened, it was so quick that Harry didn't have time to comprehend that it was even happening.


All he knew is that they had been fighting because Malfoy had been cheating – Harry was sure of it. How else could the git have gotten to the snitch so fast?


“Let go, Potter!” Malfoy had shouted, outraged and wet as the rain was pressing down on them mercilessly. He'd pushed Harry and Harry had pushed back until he slipped on the wet floor and tumbled into Malfoy. Until they fell down together, Harry landing on top of Draco. Until their mouths touched just like the rest of them touched. Right there, in the pouring rain on the empty Quidditch field.


Before Harry knew what had happened, Draco pushed him aside, staring at him with huge, unbelieving eyes and fled.


All Harry could do was stare after him while raising his hands to his still-tingling lips.




The fact that Harry couldn't get the accidental lips-touching (yes, he was very strictly calling it that, keeping all words that started with the letter 'K' distinctly off his mind), had nothing to do with Malfoy, he was sure of it. He just longed for someone to k- touch his lips to. Ever since he'd broken up with Ginny in the aftermath of the war, he'd felt just a little lonelier. He would have had the same feelings about Seamus or Ron touching lips with him, he was sure of it.


He was so sure of it, in fact, that he kept telling himself that over and over when he sat down at one of the 8 th year parties for a round of Spin the Bottle and felt his heart race when he caught a glimpse of familiar blond hair on the other side of the circle. His racing heart had absolutely nothing to do with Draco Malfoy. Absolutely not. He would prove that when the bottle landed on him and he would touch lips with someone else – anyone else. He'd feel the same like he felt on that rainy October afternoon. He was certain. Except that when the bottle landed on him, he was confronted with a pair of grey eyes, looking uncomfortably at him.


He couldn't k- touch lips with Malfoy again . It wasn't supposed to happen like that! This was supposed to prove that he could touch lips with anyone. This was supposed to...


Harry suddenly couldn't breathe when Malfoy reluctantly got up from his position from the other side of the room and made his way over to Harry. He held his breath when Malfoy crouched down in front of him and without another word placed a firm hand on the back of Harry's head and pulled him in until their lips touched. Until they moved together.


By the time they parted, Harry was light-headed and panting. Malfoy didn't look at him before he got up and went back to his seat.


Even though Harry desperately wanted him to.




Harry bit his lip nervously while walking down the corridor to his next lesson. Ron and Hermione were still at lunch but he decided that he needed to think. He needed to clear his head. It was full of blond hair and grey eyes and... lips... so soft...


He blinked a couple of times, staring straight ahead where he could make out the back of the head he was just thinking about.


He crept nearer and saw Malfoy talking to Parkinson. Something ugly flared inside him and he didn't even know that he walked straight towards him. That was until Parkinson saw him and nudged Draco, who turned. He raised one eyebrow and stared at Harry expectantly, opening his mouth slightly to say something nasty, no doubt.


The sound that came out though, was a muffled shriek because Harry – upon sensing a confrontation and getting careless in minding his steps – tripped and fell right into Malfoy's arms. Right into his personal space, right into...


They blinked at each other, lips still attached and shock clearly visible.


This time it was Harry who reacted first.  He withdrew from the arms of his rival and stalked off. Head hot and red and with the sound of Parkinson's shrill laughter in his ears.


This was the first time that Harry had kissed Malfoy – and yes, he was at a point where he could admit that they were kissing – and the trouble was that he kind of wanted to do it again. What a revelation.




Harry avoided Malfoy like the plague after their last encounter. Tried to slip into classrooms at the last minute, and was the first to leave. When he had to be in the same space as Malfoy, he gave him a wide berth, trying to stay as far away from him as physically possible.


He could feel Malfoy's eyes on him, though. And if that wasn't disconcerting he didn't know what was.


His life was going well. He even managed to push thoughts of soft, slightly chapped lips out of his mind more often than not and live life like one should after surviving a war. He laughed with his friends, he flew and he indulged in befriending all of the eighth years – everyone but Draco that was. He even played chess with Zabini sometimes, even if he almost always lost.


And then there was one day where he let his guard down. Where he was careless. Where he found himself in the 8 th year common room on one of the large sofas in close proximity to Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was opening a package an owl had just brought. Harry didn't recognise the sweets in the box, but he was jealous. Why did nobody ever sent him sweets?

And then he noticed the small smile on Draco's face as he popped what looked like a caramel bonbon into his mouth, until the smile froze. Until Malfoy swallowed and looked panicked. Until his eyes found Harry's and his face twisted into an almost apologetic grimace before he launched at Harry. Tackling him backwards until Harry's head hit the back of the sofa and Draco was straddling him. Kissing him. Moving their lips together and finally even licking over Harry's lips in order to deepen the kiss.

Harry moaned softly in the back of his throat as he let it happen, as he kissed Draco back.


Just as quickly as it had started however, it was over and Harry's arms felt empty and he felt confused. What the hell had just happened?


His eyes found Ron's, who looked at him empathetically.


“I'm sorry, mate. I told George to take the bloody Snog-Me-Sweets off the market.”


Harry's eyes landed on the box of sweets that Draco had left in his hasty departure and sure enough, there was a tiny – almost invisible - Weasley Wizard Wheezes logo on the front. He groaned as he let himself fall backwards against the sofa again and covered his face with his eyes o hide his blush from the world. The whole encounter had done nothing to make his life easier for him. If anything, he was even more sure that he just wanted Malfoy more than ever.




Christmas was approaching quickly and unrelentingly, and Harry felt like there weren't enough hours in a day. It absolutely didn't help that the whole castle seemed to be especially cheerful and happy. There were elfs everywhere. Every single inch of the castle had been decorated and he even felt some tinsel being draped over his head by an over-eager elf at one point.


The worst thing, however, were the charmed mistletoes that seemed to be popping up everywhere, forcing people to kiss left and right. Of course, McGonagall didn't approve but that didn't persuade the responsible students to take them down.


Harry had been lucky so far and had managed to duck all the mistletoes by simply only walking through doors when he was certain that nobody would attempt to do the same at the same time.


He was fairly dedicated to his task to not fall victim to the blasted plant. But as it so happened, a certain blond made him discard his carefully thought-out plans completely. It was a split-second decision to rush forwards in order to reach the door just in time with Draco. His heart quickened when he felt the magic bubble of the mistletoe draw them both in until they were facing each other beneath the door, illuminated in a faint light.


“What do you think you're doing?” Draco demanded but it sounded weak, like he was as tired of fighting this as Harry was.


Harry gulped.


“Mistletoe,” he said.


“I can see that, Potter.”


Draco ran his hair through his immaculate hair, messing it up a bit.


“Well then?” he arched an eyebrow and looked at Harry expectantly.


Harry didn't need to be told twice before cupping Draco's face between his hands and slowly sliding his lips against his.


It had been too long since the Sweet incident , he thought as he closed his eyes and lost himself in the kiss. He shuffled closer and opened his mouth a fraction to invite Draco in. He wasn't disappointed and his mind became a fogged-up mess as they kissed and kissed and kissed... until.


Someone cleared their throats behind them and they jumped apart.


The bubble of the mistletoe had dissolved a long time ago and they were facing their stern-looking headmistress.


“I have been politely waiting long enough, gentlemen. Please resume this somewhere where you won't be blocking the way quite this much.”


When she was gone, Draco and Harry stared at each other with shocked expressions.


What had just happened? Harry was just about to ask that question out loud before Malfoy turned around wordlessly and bolted. Harry sighed. He was running out of reasons not just to kiss him. His nagging insecurities had kept him from it so far, but after clinging to each other like they just had... Harry shook his head and made his way into the Great Hall. He would have to think of a plan.




On Christmas Eve, Harry felt terribly sorry for himself. He'd decided to stay at Hogwarts to give Ron and Hermione some much needed alone time at the Burrow. Not that they would be alone much, but it was better than having to deal with the extended family and him.


He wasn't feeling sorry for himself for being alone. He was feeling sorry for himself because he was a coward. It's been two weeks since the mistletoe incident and he had been so eager to find a way to tell Draco he liked him – because that's what it came down to after all. He realised he did like the idiot with his hair and his eyes and his snark and his... anyway. He hadn't come up with anything useful in the past two weeks and Draco seemed to avoid him. Not that he could blame the bloke, Harry had done the same thing a month earlier. But it nagged on him and it gave him a headache he absolutely didn't need on Christmas Eve. He picked at his pie and mash before deciding that he would turn in early. Turning in early meant waking up early to loads of presents, and Harry thought that might cheer him up a little.


He stood up and was just out of the Great Hall, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him.


“Potter, wait,” a voice followed. A little breathless, a little hurried and a little unsure.


Harry turned and looked at a flushed Draco, standing only a couple of meters away from him in the corridor that led up to the 8 th year common room.


“Merry Christmas,” Harry said when the silence stretched too long to be comfortable.


He didn't get a reply. Instead, Draco marched towards him, a determined expression on his face. Harry could only watch as Draco grabbed him by the collar of his school cardigan and shoved him backwards. Was Draco going to hit him? Had he done something wrong?


His back hit the wall and he was just about to ask, just about to talk his way out of fighting, when Draco crashed their mouths together. It was messier than their kisses before, more urgent, more desperate. Harry's hands came up to Draco's waist and pulled at him, needing him closer, needing him as close as possible. It was the longest they'd ever kissed, the initial teeth clashing turned into soft strokes of tongue against tongue eventually before it died down to soft pecks on the mouth.


Harry looked at Draco, taking in his relaxed face, his closed eyes and pecked him again.


“Do you want to come up to my room?”


A small smile formed on Draco's face and he nodded.


Harry laced their fingers together lazily and pulled Draco after him, feeling giddy and excited and in love.




He turned and looked at Draco, who was wearing a bashful expression, biting his lip nervously.


“Merry Christmas to you, too.”