The mist was down again. There had been a few clear, sunny days earlier in the week, and Algy had even seen some bright blue sky at times, but such conditions rarely lasted long on the wild west coast of the Scottish Highlands, for the north Atlantic weather systems ensured an almost constant supply of clouds and rain.
Algy found himself a damp perch on a clump of soggy grasses and heather, and gazed into a spontaneous bog pool which was strewn with last year’s grasses, tossed about by the wind. Despite the cold, grey wetness of it all, Algy could detect a change in the air. The rain and the mist and the wind might not stop, but Algy knew that the winter was almost over, and any day now the skylarks would start to sing again, announcing the beginning of a new spring. So Algy peered into the water, wondering whether any frogs were sleeping down below, and murmured one of his favourite silly poems in case they might be listening:
The moon came late to a lonesome bog, And there sat Goggleky Gluck, the frog. “My stars!” she cried, and veiled her face, “What very grand people they have in this place!”
Algy wishes you all a very happy weekend :)
[Algy is reciting the short poem The moon came late by the 19th century American writer Mary Mapes Dodge.]
Draco rolled on his sheets, his skin warm because of the covers and the soft light shining through his bedside window.
It was good, those new sheets, that new bedroom. The purple curtains weren’t something he would’ve picked himself but being an eighth year came with its advantages and disadvantages.
He turned again, his eyes still closed. Having his own room at Hogwarts was something he would never have thought could be so great. The silence, the privacy, being able to come and go whenever he wanted. Well, not that he could wander around past curfew but even if he did no one would know.
Draco finally opened his eyes, the sunlight strangely bright for that time of-
Draco launched himself off the covers, his legs still tangled in the sheets making him tumble straight to the floor. He cursed again, louder this time, but who cares. He was alone in his room, no one to wake up and, oh well, no one to wake him up either.
So he was late, even though he was sure he’d set up his wand to wake him up.
Great, now his morning had everything to be even shinier than normal. He hated getting up late and had managed just fine to arrive to classes in time until now. He hated it because being late meant receiving unwanted attention from professors who already despised him and classmates who wanted him dead. Potter was usually the one to burst into classes after it’d already begun but all he always got for that were welcoming smiles and good mornings.
Draco grabbed the first pair of black trousers he spotted near his nightstand, putting them on while searching for his belt. He wrapped his green and silver tie loosely around his neck, his black shirt still completely unbuttoned. Draco cast a quick cleaning spell on his mouth, hurriedly heading for the door with shoes in one hand and bag in the other. The common room was most definitely empty so he would just finish getting ready-
A loud thud caught Draco’s attention, wand instantly in hand as an instinct. He should have expected, should have exhaled, turned on his heel and darted out of there because he knew he was just going to be even later now.
But how in Merlin’s name could he turn around on a Potter still in his boxers, black boxers and a Gryffindor tie hanging around his neck like the bloody corridor was an extension of his room. Potter looked up, his cheeks red and an apologetic smile on his face, something that only contributed to unbalance Draco more.
The blond was gaping, his own blood rushing to his cheeks because his eyes couldn’t stay on Potter’s ugly glasses, they had to aknowledge his shoulders, covered in tiny brown freckles; scan his chest and his stomach- fuck, Potter had abs, and his hips, Draco’s eyes could trace his V line…
He froze, closing his eyes like that was the only way he knew how to stop unashamedly maping the Gryffindor’s body.
He opened them when his breathing had evened out to find Potter doing the exact same thing he’d done.
'I- I’m late’ Draco blurted out, startling Potter who seemed to be unaware of what he was doing.
'Yeah, me too’ His green eyes fixed on something above Draco’s head.
'You’re always late, this isn’t- ’
'What happened to your hair?’ Potter took a step towards him, his shame of being half naked completely forgotten. Draco’s wand remained firmly secured in his hand, though he doubted he’d have the will to point it at Potter even if he had to.
Merlin, he was… hot. That was the word, there was no way he could lie about that. Draco was eighteen and gay and Potter was eighteen and hot and- and so Potter. He should turn around and run the fuck away from there, that corridor was too small for two people to stand at a safe distance and Potter didn’t seem to even want to stand at a safe distance.
He was still looking at Draco’s hair like it was made of gold.
'I didn’t have time to comb it’
Draco looked at Potter’s head, wondering for a second if the Gryffindor had ever brushed his hair.
The dark brown locks curled chaotically around the edges, falling on his forehead and almost covering the scar. His hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it, probably longer than when they were fourteen and Draco first experienced how it was like to develop a crush on someone.
When Potter lowered his eyes Draco could see only thin rings of green around dilated pupils.
'Why would you comb it?’
There, he knew Potter had never brushed his hair. That was be the best opportunity to mock him about it, Draco just needed to open his mouth and-
Warm fingers pushed Draco’s locks away from his eyes, his mouth already open but his mind suddenly blank. Potter was so close Draco had to tip his head slightly down to look at him. His fingers ran through the strands, pressing lightly against his scalp. Draco’s breathing became shallow, his whole body tingling with the sudden proximity.
'I- I need to go’ Draco’s hand reached for his bag as fast as he could. He darted past a surprised Potter on his way to the stairs, Potter’s fingers that were tangled in Draco’s hair falling to his pale neck, touching it lightly for a second.
He wanted to stay, fuck, all he wanted to do was stay. That was the main reason he should go immediately because if he felt Potter’s warmth against his skin for another minute he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
When Draco turned around to catch a last glimpse of Potter, green eyes met grey. He gulped, turning on his heel and heading towards their common room.
Despite being so late Draco decided to keep a slow pace. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to keep in his memory the feeling of Harry’s fingers against his neck.
Draco opened his eyes the next morning to find, fortunately, that he was on time.
He sighed, images of the previous day flashing through his mind. He got up, shaking that weird feeling away, and set out for his trunk.
This time Draco decided to go with his best green silk shirt and some tight black trousers - he was in a good mood after all - paired with a silver tie. He was about to grab his bag when Draco remembered he hadn’t combed his hair again, darting his eyes to the mirror hanging on his door.
It looked… messy, but maybe not in a bad way. He ran his fingers through it, pushing the strands back and watching as a few fell on his forehead. Okay, he could try that. His father would totally reprimand him if he knew but Draco decided to go for it anyway.
He closed the door behind him, his eyes already searching for that door opposite his. Potter’s room.
It was locked and no movement could be heard from outside.
Late again, he thought to himself, lingering on the first step of the circular stair. He looked back again, waiting for something he didn’t quite know. No sound, nothing.
He’s definitely going to be late.
Fuck, Draco looked at his pocket watch, confirming that if he turned around now he’d get exactly on time for his first class of the day.
He could knock, a small voice that sounded a lot like his mother’s resonated inside his head.
Draco looked around, checking if he was in fact alone before darting towards Potter’s door, knocking twice. He waited a bit, knocked again. No response.
Maybe he’s not in there, he thought.
Maybe he’s not feeling well, his other inner voice said.
Draco didn’t care, he should just go. But his hand was already on the door knob, twisting it. It clicked, easily letting Draco in despite a red alarm screaming inside his head.
'Potter?’ His voice was low but in the quiet room it sounded much louder to his ears.
The curtains of the only bed in the room were closed, but Draco could immediately tell Potter was there. His deep breathing told Draco that the Gryffindor was sound asleep, the sunrays making his silhouette distinguishable through the curtains.
The alarms were louder now but Draco couldn’t walk away anymore.
He pulled the curtains slowly.
'Potter, you’re- ’
Potter was on his back, a soft blanket covering one of his legs and his waist in a way Draco could see he had nothing beneath it. He was naked, completely naked under that thin layer of cotton.
Draco’s fingertips were tingling, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to touch, but Merlin he couldn’t even afford to think that.
'Potter, wake up’ he spoke louder this time and Potter all but groaned in his sleep. Draco felt something boiling inside him, anger and lust mixed together.
'Potter, wake up!’ His hand reached for Potter’s shoulder, shaking him before he could stop himself.
A strong grip in his hand pulled him forward and before Draco knew what was happening he found shimself underneath Potter who had his wand pointed at Draco’s throat, a dangerous look on his face.
'Malfoy, what… Fuck, what are you doing here?’
Potter lowered his wand without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, his expression turning into one of confusion.
Draco stood frozen, his mouth hanging open because the second Potter recognized him all the bastard did was relax, sitting on top of Draco’s thighs like that was the most obvious thing to do when you find your enemy inside your room.
And Draco could feel it. Feel it against his stomach even though the blanket was preventing him from actually seeing it. He darted his eyes up the moment he realized he was staring at it to find Potter already looking at him. He was blushing, green eyes wide open like he’d just realized the strange position they were in.
The thing was, Potter didn’t move, not off Draco at least.
'We’re late,’ Draco’s voice was hoarse when he spoke.
Potter rolled his eyes to what he judged useless information.
'Are those the only words you know?’
That ungrateful git. Draco tried to push him away, shifting his thighs in a way that forced Potter to grab onto something to avoid falling off his own bed. He obviously chose to grab onto Draco’s shirt, tearing up two buttons with the force of his grip. Draco gasped, anger boiling deep inside him. That was his abosolutely favorite shirt and now it was ruined. He was about to punch Potter when something poked him hard on his inner thigh, right beside his own crotch.
Something. Not only something, it seemed.
Draco’s eyes found Harry’s.
'Potter?’ His voice came weaker than he intended.
So Potter had an erection. He was hard, rocking hard right on top of Draco. And naked too. For Merlin’s sake, that wasn’t even the problem.
'Ah… Malfoy?’ Potter looked down and back up at Draco. He smirked, shifting again.
The problem was Draco was hard too.
Draco was hard with a very naked ass sitting on top of him to feel it.
Draco’s cheeks were on fire, his hands griping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white already.
This time he had no way out. Potter had that smirk all over his face and kept moving on top of him, like- like he was adjusting himself… Oh God, Potter’s cock was right there, heavy and hot against his stomach.
'Potter, I… we need to- Oh fuck’ Draco’s head hit the matress, his eyes shutting close as Potter thrust his hips forward.
'Do you really want to leave?’ He was panting, each thrust causing the blanket to slid even lower on his hips. Draco could see hair right below his navel now. Draco’s hands must have left the sheets at some point because now they were grabbing Potter’s thighs with the same intensity.
Leave? He couldn’t leave.
'I hate you’ Draco thrust back, the blanket finally sliding to the floor.
Potter moaned, his smirk turning into a grin. Merlin, he was so hot.
Potter’s hands slid from Draco’s torso to his biceps, forcing his arms above his head. He hold them there, something possessive shining in his eyes.
'Are you sure?’
One of his hands reached his wand and before Draco could even worry about it his clothes were gone. He moaned and Potter moaned, loud, needy.
Because the side of Draco’s cock was pressed against Harry’s ass, rubbing against his hole. It was too much, too suddenly.
'Potter… Fuck this is- ’
Draco flipped them, all his control gone. He stared Potter down, taking in all of it, from his swollen cock to his even messier than normal hair, his green eyes filled with lust and fixed on Draco, his hands, warm and strong roaming all over him.
'How did this happen?’ Potter whispered and Draco froze. Really, how did that happen? They were enemies, they hated each other. He was almost sure that Potter wasn’t gay and now they were there-
Potter smashed their mouths together, kissing hungrily like Draco had never been kissed before. They backed away for air, Draco resting his forehead on Potter’s.
'You don’t really hate me’ Potter said, still trying to control his breathing.
'I do’ Draco bit his shoulder, leaving a red mark there.
'You don’t’ Potter’s grip on his jaw was strong, forcing their eyes to meet again. Everything seemed to change, the atmosphere, the tension between them.
'You’re a nightmare’ Draco whispered against his lips.
'You’re a wet dream’ Harry said back, smirking.
Draco didn’t hate him. He had realized that only after the war but now he knew he probably had never hated Harry Potter.
When he bent down to press their lips together, it wasn’t rushed. They kissed slowly, tasting one another. It was sensual, deeper than before. Potter’s hands were on his hair, his fingers threading through the strands and pulling Draco towards him. They parted again but Potter kept placing soft kisses on Draco’s lips, again and again.
'Why do you do this?’ Draco’s eyes were still closed, his mouth brushing Potter’s as he spoke. Every nerve on his body was aware of it’s surroundings. Draco wanted to scream, stop the time because Potter made him feel like he was eleven all over again, powerless but a lot braver than he was now at eighteen.
Potter moved so he could speak into his ear, hands still on his hair.
'Draco, this is fine’ his words were softer than the ones ringing inside Draco’s head that sounded so much like his father’s. 'Scared, Malfoy?’
There it was, Malfoy and Potter, always Malfoy and Potter. Except Draco wanted this new thing now, because Potter was right. If he didn’t give a shit for the past Draco wouldn’t either.
'I don’t hate you’ he whispered, afraid the words would get stuck in his throat.
It was like an immense weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders.
'I don’t hate you, Harry’ he said it again, louder. They kissed one more time. 'Harry’ and again. 'I want to- ah, I want to fuck you, Harry’ the way the name rolled on his tongue was addictive. And everytime he said it, Harry Harry Harry, the boy beneath him would shudder, moan, kiss him again.
'Draco’ his fingers running through his hair. 'Draco’.
Draco backed away, turned Harry on his stomach and kissed his nape.
He kissed his shoulder blades, Draco kissed his spine.
Open mouthed kisses all the way down to his lower back, Harry arched to his touch.
His hands ran on Harry’s sides, one of them reaching Harry’s neck and holding him there possessively.
'You can… you can just…’ Harry turned his head to the side, his hands pushing Draco’s thighs towards him desperately.
'I need to- ’
'I did it yesterday’ Harry’s voice was hoarse and the words came out rushed. 'After we met, I…’
'You were thinking of me…’ Draco kissed the shell of his ear, his hips trembling with need.
'I want you inside, Draco’ Harry fingers dig in his thighs and Draco shuddered, a moan escaping his lips.
Draco reached for his wand, a quick spell smearing his fingers with lube. He found Harry’s hole, tried one finger and found it in fact loose already. Harry bucked against it underneath him. Fuck, he wanted to eat him up, take him hard. He smeared his swollen cock with the lube, aligning himself.
Harry arched his back again when Draco buried himself inside him, his hips hitting Harry’s ass.
'Draco- fuck, please… Draco please’
It was so tight, fuck, so hot inside him and the sounds. Harry kept moaning, bucking against him, begging.
'You’re so… Harry, Harry fuck’ Harry was shaking beneath him, his head turning from side to side, eyes closed and mouth open. Draco pounded hard inside him, as fast as he could.
It was desperate, intense, too much. They were Malfoy and Potter and Draco and Harry. And Draco wanted all that, he needed Harry Potter to remember what it was like to feel that fire inside him.
Harry came with his ass up and face pressed against the pillow that muffled his scream. He came with Draco’s cum filling him up, Draco digging his nails on his sides and screaming his name.
When he let his body crash beside Harry, Draco felt different.
'Do you hate me?’ Harry’s playful tone was gone.
'Are you s-’
Draco pressed his hand on Harry’s mouth, shutting him up immediately.
'You’re a Gryffindor, an arrogant prick with a hero complex. You’re loud and impulsive. Still, I don’t hate you, okay?’
When Draco removed his hand Harry had a frown on his face.
'What does that even mean?’
Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out for Harry’s arm. He ran his fingers there, tracing invisible patterns as he spoke. He liked to touch Harry, he liked it quite a lot.
'It means this is fine, doesn’t it?’
Harry closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
There, that was why he felt different. Harry made his name sound like something… special.
'Will you wake me up tomorrow too?’
He snorted, hitting Harry with the pillow square in the face.
'What, why not?’ Harry gave him an indignant look that only made Draco laugh even harder.
'I can’t miss another class because of you’
Harry gave him a peck on the lips, startling him. It was so sweet he couldn’t help the blushing creeping up his face.
'Then I’ll wake up before you, Malfoy’ he gave him another peck, the well known challenging look in his eyes.
Draco smiled, realizing Malfoy and Potter could be as nice as Draco and Harry if he got to have him by his side.
“You know that eastern idea of perfection? The idea that something can be truly perfect only if there’s an imperfection in it. We all have that, it’s what makes us human. And it doesn’t matter if you’re playing Elizabeth I or Bob Dylan or Mary Mapes or Carol. You’ve got to find as many warts as you can.”
1. have you ever been in love? Never if you didn’t count the time I claim I was in love with one classmate back in kindergarten, as now I feel like I was just copying some plots form TV drama.
5. how many times have you read your favourite book? Probably many times when I am still little as I read lots of books, can’t really remember.
6. what are your favourite films? Finding Nemo (as a kid till now), the first three Keroro Gunso movies (as a Keroro fan lmao), A.I. Artificial Intelligence (the ending somehow inspired my interest to related genre topic?), and Inception.
7. what kind of weather do you like? Bright sunny day, when the sky is fully clean blue and you can feel all the warmth from the sun. I feel most energetic under the bright sun.
2. what are your favourite colours and why? You sounds totally not fearful at all Red for it gives me the most powerful feeling, cyan because I think it is the closest color to me, black and white because I like stuffs in an aesthetic of extreme contrast.
46. what is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you? Willing to share happiness to me for people in real world, willing to stay beside me and encourage me for people in the internet.
47. do you find it hard to trust? It would be really hard if you ask me in the past, but from now I come out as easier to trust others. Though my amount of trust on people is based on things I can observe from them.
22. are you an artist? More like a fanart artist right now? Although I truly wish to engage artist-related career in the future.
49. what colour are your eyes?
This is what I got when picked up color from picture of my eye.