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By Bracken Pairing: HARRY and DRACO I warn you, this WILL lapse into SLASH! Disclaimer: Yes, I own them, and yes, they ARE real! Oh, and need I mention that I'm a compulsive liar? The Goddess who is J.K. Rowling owns them all. Don't sue ME, I'm not making money off them. Cross my heart. Spoilers: None really, but their older, slightly Author's Notes: Please be gentle, my first fic in this fandom. And I dont even have a beta-reader so it probably sucks completely! Feedback: Oh, please? I'll love you forever Dedication: To Mandy and Tami. Welcome to the world of HP slash, heh heh
Chapter One: "Game" *It's got too far.* That was the immediate thought that crossed Draco's mind when it happened for the first time. Every enemy sums up their opponent. Notes their courage, their mind, their physique. But Draco knew it also stopped there. That his mind should not be dwelling on the broadening shoulders, the slim hips, the flashing green from under silken wisps of midnight hair. Being of a nimble mind, Draco could tell that very first time of awareness, that his opposition had turned into his obsession. And now, in the turgid recesses of his mind, he found himself itching for a battle fought on a different pitch. Whereas he'd initially wanted nothing to do with the boy named Harry Potter, he now ached to posses him. And when he realized this, did he deny it? No. Draco's character refused to be denied something it wanted. And so, instead of shying away, he took the bull by the horns and resolved to get his way. And get Harry . . . A cold wind was blowing that night, and it howled and whistled through the chinks of the astronomy tower. Harry had stole up at midnight to receive a letter from Sirius. He had just untied the letter from Hedwig's leg, when the roll of parchment was pulled smoothly from his fingers. Harry whirled around to find himself face to face with Draco Malfoy. "My, my Harry." Draco whispered chidingly. "Illicit letters at the stroke of midnight. Whatever will people think?" He moved as to open the letter, but very slowly, awaiting the inevitable interruption. Harry did not disappoint him. "Wait!" he cried, anguished, "Don't open it!" Draco's eyes narrowed calculatingly. "We're hardly friends, Potter, what do I get in return for my silence?" The pause was stretched to infinity, the wind rattled ominously around the battlements. Harry's answer was long in coming. Draco had begun to open the letter goadingly when Harry, desperate not to lose contact with his godfather, breathed in deeply, squared his shoulders and answered the question. "Anything." He choked out. "I'll do anything." And, standing in the dark, a wraithlike figure cut in silver and shadow, Draco's lips curved into his trademark smirk. |