TOM FELTON

tom felton speaks about DRARRY,DRAMIONE,and DRAPPLE 

snarry oneshot

snarry oneshot

Professor Snape stood at the front of his classroom , his long black cloak hanging off of his lean body. The bottom reached the cold tile floor that covered the Dungeons. When all of the students had arrived, the Potions Master snapped into posistion and began barking orders for the students to obey. With a slow, silky voice, Professor Snape said, "Although your instructions have been clearly written on the chalk board, you all have failed to open your textbooks as asked."

Draco Malfoy was sitting at the table closest to the Professor, and he quickly raised his hand to disprove Snape.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy?" Snape feigned interest in Malfoy's raised hand. He raised an eyebrow while Malfoy replied.

"Professor, my textbook was open to the page. Unlike the Gryffindors, I obeyed your instructions."

The Potions Master cocked his head to the side as a large smirk formed across his face. "Yes, 5 points from Gryffindor and 10 to Slytherin, Malfoy"

The was a large sigh of disapproval from the Gryffindor tables; and they all shook their head in disgust. That was, everyone except for Harry Potter, who was sitting at a table next to Hermione Granger. He didn't even make a face when Snape took points from Gryffindor. He appeared unphased by the event that was going on around him.

He had been acting this way all week, as if he was in his own world and unable to pay attention.

"Mr. Potter," Snape snapped as he stopped in front of the desk he was seated at and slammed his hands against the tabletop. "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."

Harry stood up slowly and uneasily, unsure as to why Snape would order him to leave the class with him. Professor Snape then grabbed Harry's arm forcefully, leading him towards the potions supply closet.

"You're going to help me gather ingredients, Potter," Snape had said to the younger. He then turned to the class, gave them a deathly look and said "If I hear a word from any of you, you're all going to spend a week in detention. Get to work on the assignment in your textbook."

With that, Snape pushed Harry into the closet, walked in, and slammed the door behind them.

The supply closet was dark and dank. The ceiling must have been 15 feet high, and there were shelves that reached up the entire length of the wall. The shelves were filled with phials, glasses, containers, and capsules that held every ingredient in the world for potion making. Harry had only seen this room once before, when Professor Snape had threatened him with veritaserum during his 5th year. That seemed like such a long times ago. It had only been a year but it felt like a lifetime after all he had been through since then.

The room was cramped and Snape's cool breath was against Harry's skin.

"Professor, what exactly am I doing here?" Harry asked as an honest look of curiosity rose across his face.

"You, Potter, are going to be assisting me in sorting through ingredients for class. However," the Potions Master paused, his voice lingering on in the dingy and old supply closet. "You cannot be to my aid if you are unfocused. I've noticed your uninterested dispostion as of late. Here, drink this." Snape said, handing Harry a small phial of a purple potion. "It will help you concentrate. Drink."

Harry lifted the phial to his mouth. Although he didn't exactly trust the Professor, he knew he wouldn't be trying to harm him. Not like this, at least. Harry took a sip of the Potion. It tasted rich, strong, and flavorful. Like chocolate frogs or pancake syrup or Mrs. Weasley's sweet potato pie. He savored the taste as he slowly swallowed it ~ allowing the potion to go down his throat slowly.

Little did Harry know, he wasn't drinking a brew that was meant to help him concentrate. Harry started blinking repeatedly, a glazed look forming across his face.

Just seconds later, Snape was attacking Harry's lips. Harry let out a soft moan at the contact, clearly bewitched by the concoction. Snape stuck his welcome tongue inside of Harry's warm mouth. Their tongues grazed each other, running against each other in a way that made Severus go mad. He continued exploring the mouth of the younger before he reached his arm to Harry's pants. Snape grabbed Harry's crotch forcefully.

In a moment, Snape was on his knees. An intense look formed across his was, he was apparently very cautious about what he was about to do. Snape took his wand, cast a silencing charm at the door, and then flicked his wand towards Harry's pants. They instantly came undone and they fell to the floor.

The Potions Master then got a firm grip on Harry's member and began stroking it up and down. He started off slowly, but then began to move his hand quicker as Harry's moans and breaths became deeper and more intense.

Snape stopped suddenly, though, causing Harry to yell at the older. "Fuck, Professor, don't you stop now."

Snape shot an evil glance towards Harry and said, "Patience Potter. Patience is essential."

Then, Snape took Harry's rock hard cock in his mouth and pushed it back as far as it would go. Snape sucked up and down Harry's shaft, placing the entirety of Harry's member in his mouth.

Harry let out a load moan and a gasp. "Fuck! Professor!" he gasped in between moans. Snape's warm mouth was swallowing his cock whole Harry was trying hard not to bust this quickly inside of the mouth that was stroking up and down his shaft.

"I'm going to.." Harry moaned, but it was too late. He grunted hard and rocked his hips forward as he shot his warm seed into Snape's mouth.

Snape tasted every bit of Harry's warm juices as it entered his mouth. He swallowed the spunk and licked the inside of his cheek as he did so, trying to take in as much of Harry as he could.

"Now, it's my turn Mr. Potter," Snape said as he stood up off his knees. Snape then grabbed Harry's shoulders and forced him to turn around. With another flick of his wand, all of the Professor's clothes were banished off of him.

"Prepare yourself Potter," he said before sticking a finger in Harry's tight cave. Her pushed the finger into Harry until it had reached the knuckle. Harry winced in pain, but after Snape had moved the finger in and out of him a few times, the invasion had become more comfortable. Another finger entered him, and Harry winced again, but then allowed the penetration to occur and pleasure overwhelmed his body.

After a few minutes like this, Snape removed his finger and Harry gasped for air. The Professor then reached for his wand once more, and silently cast a spell that lubricated Harry's entrance and warms the insides.

"You like this, Potter?" Snape hissed into Harry's ear. He then placed a kiss on Harry's shoulder as he stuck his hard cock into Harry's opening.

Snape gasped for air and breathed in slowly, trying to remain in control as his member ran up and down inside of Harry. He adjusted the position every few strokes, searching for Harry's bundle of nerves.

"Fuck!" Harry gasped when Snape had finally hit the spot. The Professor let out a small laugh as his movements became quicker and quicker. Snape drove his cock into Harry repeatedly, and it filled with hot spunk that threatened to escape at any second.

Snape moaned loudly again, and Harry yelped, "Don't finish too quickly, Professor. Patience is - " and Harry let out a moan as Snape had hit his nerves, sending a shock up his body.

Entering and exiting Harry's entrance at alarming speed, Snape bit down of the younger's shoulder with force. "Fuck, Potter," he screamed as he tore deeper inside the boy.

"I - I -" but Snape couldn't finish before he busted his pleasure inside of Harry. Harry had been filled up Snape's arousal, and it was seeming out of him like a leaking tap. Professor Snape the removed his limp member from Harry, and laid one last kiss on Harry's shoulder; right where he had bitten down hard against the skin.

Replacing his clothes, Snape threw Harry's trousers at his chest. "That was great Potter." Harry smiled wildly as he caught his clothes and began to put them on. "I feel the same way, Professor."

Harry only wondered when Snape would realize that it wasn't a love potion that he had slipped to the younger.

set fire to the rain

set fire to the rain <<songfic, dramione>>

t's three in the morning and I can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning for nearly five hours and I can't stand it anymore. Thinking maybe a warm glass of milk will help; I walk down to my kitchen, pour some milk into a glass and toss it in the microwave. I notice my laptop is still on so I sit down after my milk is warm and decide to check my e-mails. It's mostly junk, but there's one there from Ginny.

I delete the garbage and open the one from Ginny. It's a link to a YouTube video that she says might help my mood a bit. I roll my eyes but open the link anyways. I've never heard of the song before but I play it and listen to it. With the first line, my mind goes straight back to my troubles, but something stops me from turning it off. I continue to listen and think about everything that's happened in the last two months.

I let it fall, my heart

Two months ago, Ron and I broke up. After three years together, we just couldn't do it anymore. It felt like we were together for everyone else but us. At least, that's what he said to me. I was perfectly happy with our relationship. It seemed that he wasn't though, so he dumped me like last week's news, the heartless bastard. I'd always known he was someone to get straight to the point, but would it kill him to be sensitive once and a while?

And as it fell, you rose to claim it
it was dark, and I was over

I didn't leave my flat for two weeks. Two. Weeks. Aren't I pathetic? How could I let someone affect me in such a way? I was such a walking cliché that week that I feel like vomiting just thinking about it.

When I did eventually leave my flat, it was because Ginny had come over to drag me out of the place, telling me that if I didn't see sunlight soon I would die from lack of Vitamin C. I did of course tell her that you get Vitamin D from sunlight, not Vitamin C, and that I was taking in plenty of Vitamin C from all of the Orange Sorbet I had been eating during my depression. She shushed me and dragged me out nonetheless.

We went to Diagon Alley and grabbed an ice cream and sat in the sunlight talking. I was surprised to find myself enjoying being out in the heat of the sun, so when Ginny apologized for having to leave, I said it was fine. I had decided that I would check out Flourish and Blotts and perhaps purchase some new reading material.

I was looking around at all the books and as I rounded a corner I collided with another body. A very rock hard body. He caught me immediately so I didn't fall flat on my ass and as I looked up I was shocked to discover who it was. His silver blonde hair and silver eyes were the same as always.

I was shocked at his chivalry as he asked if I was okay and offered to carry my books to the check out for me. I told him it wasn't necessary, but he insisted. Taking the books off of me, he read the titles to himself before beginning to voice his thoughts about a couple of them, comparing them to similar works he had read. As it turned out, I had read them also.

After paying for my book, I thanked him and went on my way. I decided that I would sit at the little café opposite Flourish and Blotts and read one of my new books. I had just finished the first chapter when it got a bit darker. Assuming the sun had gone behind a cloud, I looked up to confirm my suspicions. When I looked up however, I discovered that he was standing in the way of my direct sunlight. I didn't say anything too him, just raised an eyebrow. He asked if he could join me, and before I could respond, he sat down in the seat opposite the table.

Until you kissed my lips, and you saved me

After spending the afternoon with him in Diagon Alley, we went our separate ways. I went back to my flat and found myself back in the same place I had been just that very morning before Ginny had dragged me out. Cold and alone.

Two days later I had just finished shopping for Mr. Weasley's upcoming birthday in Muggle London, and I decided to stop in at the Leaky Cauldron for a warm butterbeer. I sat in the corner flipping through one of the other books I had bought the other day when I sensed someone watching me. I looked up to see him staring from me at the bar.

After a moment, he made his way over to the table I was sat at and took a seat himself. We began talking again. There was nothing special about it, it felt like two classmates catching up, even though we'd seen each other a mere forty-eight hours before.

We finished our drinks and he offered to walk me home. I didn't live far from the pub, so I agreed. We walked down the streets of Muggle London, talking about our thoughts on the Ministry's talk about putting in a law on arranged marriages. We were both against it.

We arrived at my building and I turned to say goodbye. I looked up into the silver eyes that I had hated so much at school. The eyes that belonged to a man that had hated me all throughout school. So I'd thought, anyways. They were darkened with lust and before I knew how to react, he was leaning down to kiss me.

As his lips met mine, my body exploded from the inside out. I was hot with anticipation, but I had shivers running up and down my spine.

My hands, they're strong
but my knees were far too weak
to stand in your arms
without falling to your feet

I wouldn't day that I fell to his feet, but I did fall, hard. Metaphorically that is. I'm smart. I know it, he knows it, and the whole world knows it for Merlin's sake! I'm the brightest witch of the age. But I never would have expected this. I got too involved too fast.

But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew
All the things you'd say they were never true, never true
And the games you play you would always win, always win

The first time we got truly intimate was a week later. We were at my flat after he insisted I take him to the cinema. We got back and laughed about how horrible the film was. Well, I laughed at how horrible it was. He laughed because he couldn't believe Muggles paid money to go to the cinema. We were each having a beer and sitting on my couch and he started by giving me one of those body numbing kisses again. One thing led to another and before I knew it, we were peeling each other's clothes off. I stopped abruptly when I noticed it.

The Dark Mark stood out on his dark skin like the chocolate my cousins would get all over my mother's white carpet. I stared at it for a long moment before he realized what was going on. He looked down at the ground a mumbled something about showing himself out. I immediately felt guilty. I didn't want him to leave; I had just been caught off guard. I told him this and he just shrugged, refusing to look at me. I started arguing with him and he started to argue with me back.

Before I knew it we were kissing and heavy petting again. After we had sex, he said he was sorry for riling me up and that he should have spoken to me like an adult the first time. I told him to stop being ridiculous because that was the best sex I'd had in a long time.

We had sex three more times after that.

I set fire to the rain,
watched it pour as I touched your face
let it burn while I cry
'Cause I heard it screaming out your name, your name

The only thing I remember from that night really is me screaming out his name.

After that, it was me that got clingy. I didn't realize it at first, but I always wanted to know where he was, what he was doing, if he was thinking of me. We weren't even in a relationship and I was being the clingy, overprotective girlfriend.

Laying here with you
I could stay there, close my eyes

He didn't seem to mind my clinginess at first. In fact, he almost seemed to embrace it. He would come over at night and sleep with me, just sleep. It was nice to know that there was someone there to keep me warm at night and it was nice to know that there would be someone there with me in the mornings.

We did have sex some nights though. And it was amazing. Ron had been my first and only lover; we had been each other's firsts. It was clear that my new lover had more experience, and although I occasionally felt a pang of jealousy, I pushed it aside because of how he made me feel when I climaxed. I never would have thought that I'd be sleeping with this man anyways, so why would I let something like that get to me.

Oh yeah, 'cause I'm a stubborn, jealous bitch.

Feel you here forever
you and me together nothing is better.

He said it first. He said that he enjoyed spending time with me and that he wanted to get to know me a whole lot better. That just added to my clinginess if that was possible. A day did not go by where we weren't together. Two weeks of this. Constantly seeing each other didn't seem to be a problem with either of us.

I was thinking about it last week and that's when I realized the amount of time we were spending together should be a problem.

But there's a side to you that I never knew, never knew
All the things you'd say they were never true, never true
And the games you play you would always win, always win

After my revelation the night before, this was only last week mind you; I met with Ginny in Diagon Alley. I was sat in a restaurant with her in a secluded booth telling her about what was going on with him. I had finished dishing all the juicy details to her and took a large gulp from my glass of wine.

That's when I heard it. Him, rather. Talking to someone about the bet he was winning with his friend. I couldn't hear every detail, but I heard the words that I thought to be the most important.

Ginny and I sat there listening straining to hear him. By the end, we had collected enough words to put the pieces together. "She doesn't know", "She more of a bimbo than we thought" and "Don't know why people think she's smart" were all phrases that we got from the conversation.

I was dumbstruck, I didn't know what to do or say. I knew there was something off. I just knew it. I placed a Disillusionment Charm on myself and Ginny and we walked out of the restaurant and into the busy Alley. We made our way to my flat within fifteen minutes and opened a bottle of wine.

By the time we finished the bottle of wine, I had decided that instead of letting him get the better of me, I was going to be the bitch that Karma wanted me to be.

I set fire to the rain
Watched it pour as I touched your face
Let it burn while I cried
Cause I heard it screaming out your name

I didn't speak to him the rest of that day. I turned off my phone and didn't read the owl that he sent. When he arrived that night, I shrugged and smiled apologetically although I didn't offer any explanation.

He didn't mention anything about it and just asked me what I did that day. I told him the truth. I went out to lunch with Ginny in Diagon Alley.

If he was surprised, shocked or worried by this information at all, he did a superb job of covering it up. He asked where we went and as I told him, I could have sworn that his eyes opened in surprise a little but not enough for me to be able to tell what he was thinking.

He didn't ask me any more after that and simply pulled me in for a hug. He apologized to me. He sounded really sincere about it which confused me. From what I had overheard, it had sounded like he was playing me.

I told him I thought it was best if he left.

He obliged.

I spent the night in tears with another bottle of wine, even though I had promised Ginny I wouldn't let him get the better of me.

I set fire to the rain
and I threw us into the flames
where it felt something die 'cause I knew that
that was the last time, the last time.

I ignored all owls, phone calls and messages that I received off of him the next day too. I couldn't believe that I had allowed myself to develop feelings for him. He came around that night as well. I didn't let him in.

I told him that our fling had run its course. Simple as. I had a big elaborate plan that I'd come up with yesterday with Ginny, but I was too tired to see it through. I opted for the other way to do it. Tell him the sex was good while it lasted, but I didn't think that this thing between us was going to work.

I did not understand why he looked positively devastated. He asked me why I had used him the way I had and just tossed him aside like that. I said that I wasn't the one tossing him aside, that I had heard what he'd said yesterday at lunch and I wasn't interested in hearing anything else out of his mouth.

I shut the door in his face. I never wanted to see him again and I thought after that speech I'd just given him about morals and backstabbing that I was in the clear and I could go on with living my life and moving on.

Sometimes I wake up by the door,
Now that your gone must be waiting for ya,
Even now when it's already over,
I can't help myself from looking for ya.

Moving on is easier said than done. Over the next couple of days I went out, telling myself that I needed to go pick up this or that, but I knew deep down that I wanted to spot him. I wanted to know if he was having the same trouble moving on that I was. I looked desperately for him, but never saw him.

I set fire to the rain
Watched it pour as I touched your face
Let it burn while I cried
Cause I heard it screaming out your name

I met Ginny yesterday morning for a coffee upon her request. Apparently there had been a huge heartbreak that was even more scandalous than mine. I wasn't really in the mood, but Ginny wouldn't take no for an answer. I met her and sat down waiting for her to begin the story.

She then proceeded to tell me about how Susan Bones had been played by none other than the King of Slytherin himself. I raised my eyebrows as she continued on about how she had broken Blaise Zabini's heart, and in an attempt to get back at her, Draco Malfoy had agreed to break her heart twice as badly.

I hardly paid attention as Ginny went into more detail. I sat there thinking about what had happened between myself and Draco.

I set fire to the rain
and I threw us into the flames
where it felt something die 'cause I knew that
that was the last time, the last time.

Then I saw him. Still sat with Ginny inside the coffee shop and I looked out the window and saw him passing by, Pansy Parkinson in tow on one side and his mother on the other. I don't know if he felt me staring at him or if he looked over by chance, but his mercury eyes locked with mine. Neither of the women with him noticed as they scurried off to look at something through a shop window on the other side of the alley. He stood there looking at me, and I sat looking at him. Neither of us moved, despite Ginny's prompting for me to go and talk to him when she'd noticed what was happening.

I said no and watched as he walked away.

I truly fucked up royally with no chance of redemption.

one for sorrow

one for sorrow

One for sorrow, two for joy

Three for a girl, four for a boy

Five for silver, six for gold

Seven for a secret, never been told

-Old English Rhyme

Sorrow? Draco knows all about sorrow. And pain. They often go hand in hand, he's found. Sorrow when his grandmother Malfoy died; he was only five. He didn't understand about vendettas and Death Eaters then. Pain when his mother did explain it to him, three years later. Sadness and hurt when his father, the powerful and pureblooded Lucius Malfoy, forbade him from going to Blaise Zabini's house for tea, all because Blaise's mother had married a muggleborn man. Draco couldn't have controlled that, but no. Lucius did not want to hear his son's pleading. That was the day Draco realized what it meant to be a Malfoy. One must be dignified at all times and never beg (his cheek stung for hours after his father slapped him), one must think themselves superior to all others and one must despise ignorant mudbloods and stupid half-breeds. Or at least, pretend to. That is another important duty that comes with bearing the Malfoy name : being a good actor. Draco has always excelled in this respect. It is in his blood (pure and blue, without a doubt).

Draco knows much less about joy. He never had a normal childhood, or any childhood at all really. From the moment he learned to speak he was taught to keep his opinions to himself, never to speak out of turn and always act mature. He was never permitted to play with toys or anything of such plebian nature. He never felt happiness like other children. No, instead, Draco was taught when to feel happy, which made it so that his joy was often fake and short-lived. How to insult someone properly was something he learned quickly (from watching his parents and their 'friends'), but simply saying the word 'mudblood' always left him feeling odd and uncomfortable. It stills does, but Draco can somewhat ignore the feeling and insult anybody with the cold air of a proper Malfoy and Slytherin.

Draco never knew games or jokes like other kids did and neither did his friends (though like a true member of Salazar Slytherin's noble house he doesn't trust his friends and he knows that neither do they trust him). Now, Draco is pleased when he gets an O on a Transfiguration essay and is content when his in the common room with Crabbe and Goyle. He enjoys a nice drink or butterbeer or firewhiskey every now and then and he appreciate's Blaise's dry sense of humor. He is never happy or joyous or gleeful. The only time Draco is ever truly happy is when he is flying, the wind pushing him along and the stands of the Quidditch pitchs rushing past. Flying makes Draco love life, but that's the only thing.

So Draco knows much more of sorrow and pain than of happinesse. And only now, at 16, is he realizing it.

There is a girl and there is a boy. Two boys, really, but only one truly matters. He came first, before the girl. His name is Harry Potter, and he is of an unsual sort. Unique. It's impossible to describe and understand him completely, though Merlin knows Lucius and Draco have tried. Ignorant; that's for sure. A trouble-maker; yes. Horrible; maybe. He diddestroy the Dark Lord (though quite unwillingly) and for that Draco's father hates him with a deep and burning passion. His son has learned to despise him too, has learned to call him names and think him inferior. Potter is Draco arch enemy, and that was decided a year after they were born. And Draco remembers their very first day at Hogwarts when Potter, then just a scared little boy, had foolishly declined Draco's offer of friendship. Because of that, Draco hates the stupid wizard as much as his father. Sometimes he nearly forgets why, but it doesn't matter. Draco is olde rnow; he understands why his family hates Potter, and their reasons mixed in with his own have morphed Draco's hate into pure loathing tinged with unconscious envy.

Hate is a strong emotion, that's another thing Draco has learned.

The other boy, not Potter but the youngest Weasley son, is another person Draco cannot stand. Poor, dirty, dense and a blood-traitor to boot : he and his family are the polar opposite of Draco's rich and honourable one. They are everything Narcissa Malfoy turns her nose at, they are the ones Lucius insults at home. The red-headed Weasel is just there for Draco to make fun of. That pack of feeble gingers mean nothing more to Draco than that.

The girl is different. He doesn't hate her, though he's supposed to. He only pretends to. He never wants to insult her, but Draco has an act to uphold. What kind of Malfoy would he be if he referred to her as 'that pretty Gryffindor' instead of 'that worthless mudblood?' Not a very good one. In fact, his father would probably disown him without a second thought. No, the girl isn't the same as the others. She isn't stupid and superficial like the Hufflepuff girls or untrustworthy and egotistical like the Slytherin ones. She has the best qualities from every house : cunning, hard-working, extremely intelligent and loyal and brave. It's a shame that she is also a muggleborn and Draco must pretend to detest her, because otherwise Lucius would approve.

But her parents are dentists and so Draco must be content with whispering her name to himself, feeling it roll flawlessly off his tongue, 'Her-mi-o-ne,' as if it was meant to be said by Draco. He tries to be better than her in Potions class to get her attention (he'd do it to any other girl he was interested in) but he supposes that to her it probably just seems like he is being mean. He wishes they could have a normal conversation, one where there were no insults or Weasels involved. That's what he wants nearly the most, not to touch her or kiss her or hold (though he may want that very much too), but just to talk to her. An innocent chat about the weather would suffice to make him happy. Draco knows that's never going to happen, so he sits back and watches in disgust as the idiot ginger fawns over her like a puppy does his master. A horribly misbehaved puppy, that is.

Sometimes (often) Draco wishes he wasn't who he was. That he could start all over with a new name and a different outlook on life. Maybe he'd be wearing gold instead of silver. Or maybe not, perhaps he'd sport midnight blue robed and so would the girl ('Hermione,' he murmurs to himself). That's what Draco wants above all else : to start over. To forget everything, the years with a cold and cruel Malfoy upbringing and the politics of the worst kind. He wishes he could leave his name begind and everything that comes with it. He'd no longer be a Malfoy or a Black, just a Draco. Maybe then she'd see him differently and the world's opinion about him would change.

None of that will ever happen, Draco knows it, and daydreaming about it only makes the longing worse. He has an image to portray and a lie to uphold. If he says just one thing wrong his whole family will be killed. Despite everything he feels for his mother and father, they're still his parents, and if he has the power to stop it he won't let them die.

So instead of calling her Hermione he'll call her Mudblood and he'll move on with his existence (he won't call it his life if he's not living). He'll sneer at Potter and he'll make fun of the Weasels because he has to. He was born to. When he's alone though, he'll still taste 'Hermione' on his tongue, sometimes adding 'Malfoy' at the end, but he'll never tell. And that's just how it's going to be.

another reason to love storms -oneshot

this is a oneshot from  PieRSquared its realy sweet and i hope you will like it  your lexx 

Another Reason to Love Storms

It was storming. Fiercely. Harry was staring at the ceiling, jumping every time a clap of thunder sounded above his head.

He hated storms. He thought they were too loud, and he didn't like that light-show effect the lightning had outside his window. Not to mention how loud the pounding rain sounded on the roof of Gryffindor Tower.

As he jumped after a particularly loud thunder rumble, he decided he was going to get up. He knew where he could meet his boyfriend, and seeing Draco at a time like this would make him feel better.

Harry grabbed his dressing gown, the Marauder's Map, his Invisibility Cloak, and his wand. He made his way down to the common room, and pulled out the Map.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good," he muttered, as he tapped the aged parchment. He then added, "Or so some would say."

He located Draco's dot in the Slytherin dorms, under the lack in the dungeons.

Right where he should be. Damn, Harry thought.

He looked around, and found some scrap parchment on the floor from where the house elves hadn't been up here to clean yet. He quickly scribbled a note for Draco, his penmanship jumpy as the storm outside raged on. He rolled the note up, tapped it with his wand, and watched it disappear. He knew it was going straight to the Slytherin dorms, and would be prodding Draco until he woke up.

Which won't be long, Harry thought. He's a very light sleeper.

With that, he took off to the Room of Requirement.

---

Draco was having a hard time sleeping, but he wasn't complaining in the slightest. He loved storms, and was in fact wishing for the first time that the Slytherin dorms had windows, so he could watch the weather and the clouds outside.

Through all this, he was also slightly worried about his boyfriend. Harry hated storms, though he wouldn't outwardly admit that to anyone.

He was contemplating getting up and going out to a corridor so he could sit on the window sill and watch the chaos of the storm when he heard a 'pop,' and felt a prod on his shoulder.

"What?" he whispered, as he turned around. He was greeted with a rolled up piece of parchment.

Draco opened the note, and saw a jumpy scrawl on the page.

Dray,

Meet me in the Room of Requirement?

Love,

Harry

He smiled at Harry's use of a nickname—he had given it to Draco during the second week of their relationship, and it stuck through the 4 months they'd been dating.

Draco shook his head—his grin still in place—and headed out to the common room after grabbing his dressing gown and slipping on his slippers.

---

"Harry?" Draco called into the semi-dark room that was behind the Room of Requirement's door.

Harry came running at Draco from around the couch.

"Dray!" he yelled as he flung his arms around the blonde Slytherin. "I was so scared! Storms are scary."

Draco grinned into Harry's hair as he wrapped his arms around the Gryffindor's slender waist. "No, they really aren't. And here I was, thinking you were a brave Gryffindor! Guess I was wrong."

Harry pulled back enough to hit Draco on the arm.

"I am a Gryffindor, thank you very much! And I am brave—," Harry got cut off by another loud rumble of thunder, to which he squeaked and nuzzled closer to Draco in his fright. ". . . I just don't like storms."

"You mean you're scared of them."

"Not scared! I just don't like them."

"Then why did you say you were 'so scared' a moment ago? And explain to me why you jump every time it thunders and why you even called up this impromptu meeting in the middle of the night if you just 'don't like storms'."

Harry just looked up at him and opened his mouth, searching for the words. He seemed to give up, snap his mouth closed, and gave a "Huff," and tuned away.

"Fine, you win. I'm scared. But, in my defense, storms are generally scary affairs, and I've never liked loud noises."

Draco smiled and kissed Harry's head. "You're utterly adorable."

Harry snapped his gaze back to Draco. "How am I adorable?" he asked, a questioning look on his face.

"I dunno," Draco said, confused by the question. "You just are."

"Humphf." Harry nuzzled back into Draco's neck and embrace, an angsty look on upon his face.

"The storm's almost over," Draco said after a few minutes of just holding Harry in his arms.

Harry, meanwhile, had been taking comfort in Draco's warm embrace, and in having someone to turn to when he got scared and jumpy when a storm hit.

"Hmmm?" He lifted his head, breaking out of his contented blissfulness.

Draco couldn't help but smile. "I said, the storm's almost over."

"How do you know, Dray? Still sounds like it's going to me."

Draco pulled Harry a bit closer, and rested his head on top of Harry's. "Because the thunder and lightning are farther apart, time wise. That means either the storm is losing strength, or it's moving farther away. Either way, it's almost over."

"Mm. . . I don't know if I'm happy about that or not," Harry said, sounding a bit forlorn.

"What?" Draco asked, pulling away so he could get a glimpse of Harry's face. "I thought you would've been happy. We just got done discussing that you're scared of storms."

Harry looked down, wondering if this next statement would make him sound needy. "Yeah. . . But then you'd have to go back to the Slytherin dorms and I'd be alone again."

Draco leant down and kissed Harry on the forehead. "Again, you're utterly adorable! I don't have to go back; I can stay here with you if you want me too."

"Really? But won't that raise too much suspicion?" Harry asked, looking guardedly hopeful.

"Really. And yes, it will, but everyone already knows, so where's the harm in it? It's normal for couples to sneak away together some times."

"True." Harry still looked unsure.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked.

"I dunno, Dray. I think I'm still shaky from the storm. . . ," Harry said, unconsciously leaning even more into the blonde.

"Well, if this makes you feel any better, it's stopped," Draco said, hoping to illicit a smile.

"Huh?" Harry looked around to the windows, and saw that it had indeed stopped storming. "It has!" Harry smiled and turned around to face Draco again.

"I'm glad that made you happy," Draco smiled. He leant his forehead against Harry's. "I don't like it when you're upset or scared."

"I don't like it when I am, either. Or when you are, for that matter."

"You're such a sap, Harry."

"Coming from the bloke who has called me 'utterly adorable' twice now."

"But you are!" Draco laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry shook his head, then yawned. "I'm tired. I haven't hardly slept tonight." As he said this, a bed appeared in place of the couch that had been there earlier.

"Come on," Draco pulled Harry towards the bed. "You need to sleep."

Harry, who was already half-asleep, let himself be dragged to the bed, have his dressing gown pulled from his shoulders, and be cuddled into Draco's embrace again. "M'kay. . . Night, Dray. Love you."

Draco chuckled at Harry as the raven-haired boy snuggled closer to Draco's chest, his breathing already getting deeper. "Good night, Harry. I love you too."

Harry smiled as he fell asleep after that, snuggly nuzzled to Draco. Draco fell asleep, wrapped protectively around his Harry, as he found another reason to love storms.

FIN.

dramione