That we most want to kiss
The war was over, and festivities on the grounds of Hogwarts blazed behind him. He walked until the bright lights and howls of frivolity became muted in the distance.
A branch snapped and Harry spun reflexively, drawing his wand.
Harry followed the sound, muffling his steps as he went. They led him to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Draco Malfoy sat alone upon a massive log.
Harry came up slowly beside Malfoy, and Malfoy must’ve sensed Harry because he stiffened - his fingers that were poised to snap yet another stick froze mid-bend. Malfoy slowly lowered his hands to his lap and looked up, his expression cold.
“Oh,” he said dismissively. “It’s you.”
Harry scowled out of habit more than malice.
“Is there anything in particular that you want, Potter?”
Harry studied the hard line of Malfoy's jaw.
“I'm sorry about your dad," Harry said finally.
The court of public opinion was not as forgiving as the opinions of those intimately involved in the war. Despite the Malfoys turning a corner and defecting to the side of the light, the wizarding world decreed a purge of any death eater still standing.
Lucius Malfoy had been wanted for war crimes, and had been on the run after the war ended. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had been indicted as well, and Malfoy and his mother were apprehended at Malfoy Manor. Because of Harry's advocacy, they were pardoned. Harry didn’t think that Draco Malfoy was a bad person or a killer, and the memory of casting sectumsempra on Malfoy was reason enough to throw himself into Malfoy’s defense.
However, Harry could only insure their release on the condition that Lucius turned himself in. Lucius did, and the Ministry allowed Lucius to spend two days with his wife and son with the caveat that he would not disclose the nature of the exchange with them.
If Harry was honest with himself, he would think: Good riddance.
He tried to stow that feeling away to sympathize with Malfoy, who had written to Harry and thanked Harry profusely for his help. Although, that was before Lucius had been taken into Ministry custody.
"I can imagine it’s been hard for you recently,” Harry said slowly, “but thanks for coming -”
"Look," Malfoy said, and it sounded as though he was talking through his teeth, "I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. I don't want to be near you. Leave me alone."
"Can you let me finish?" Harry snapped. "I just wanted to -"
Malfoy jumped up, his robes whirling around him, eyes wild. He levelled his wand at Harry.
"Go away," Malfoy seethed. "If you come any closer to me, I will set you on fire."
"Why are you here?" Harry asked. "Why did you even bother showing up to a party in my honor?"
"I am not here for you," Malfoy sneered. "You have enough adoring fans. I’m here for my father’s sake. There are other important people here, people who can help me-"
Harry took a step forward.
“Malfoy, I did everything I could.”
Malfoy narrowed his eyes, and with a flick of his wand, Harry's robes burst into flame.
The fire rapidly blazed up from the hem of his robes up to Harry's knees.
“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried, and Malfoy's wand went flying.
Harry extinguished himself as Malfoy launched himself in the direction of his wand, dropping low to the ground and rolling.
Harry, with all the mental fortitude he could muster, wordlessly summoned Malfoy’s wand into the palm of his hand, leaving Malfoy crumpled on the ground - his pale hands gripping the grass. Harry pocketed the wand into his ashen, destroyed dress robes.
Harry couldn't see Malfoy's face, as his fine white hair curtained whatever malicious expression he might have had underneath.
"Now will you listen to me?" Harry said exasperatedly.
Malfoy suddenly flopped over onto his back.
His eyes were closed, and he stretched his arms and legs wide against the lush grass. Moonlight illuminated the sinuous shape of his throat.
"You ‘did everything you could’," Malfoy said in a mangled voice. "You can't help him."
Harry sank down to a crouch next to Malfoy.
"It’s not the end. You can still visit him," Harry said bracingly.
Malfoy opened his eyes and made contact with Harry's. They were inscrutable.
Harry watched Malfoy climb onto his forearms, the sleeve of his robes falling off one shoulder. His legs splayed elegantly.
"I can visit him," Malfoy repeated carefully.
"Yes," Harry said dubiously.
Malfoy began to laugh suddenly - horribly.
"I should kick you. Give me my wand, Potter."
"I want to like you, Malfoy,” Harry snarled, “but you make it so hard sometimes!"
Malfoy let out another sharp laugh.
"Have you ever considered that I don't want to like you?"
"That letter meant something to me," Harry said earnestly. "Maybe you're ashamed of it now -"
"It's not my fault!” Harry roared, losing his patience. “Your father did it to himself!"
Suddenly Harry was knocked breathless.
Malfoy had lunged and tackled Harry off balance. He wrestled Harry wildly, and Harry wrestled back - first defensively, then when Malfoy got an elbow to Harry's nose, Harry tasted blood and began to fight in earnest, losing himself inside of their scuffle.
Harry used his weight advantage to roll both of them over. Harry caught Malfoy’s flailing hands and wrested them down to the ground behind Malfoy’s head. Harry viciously pressed his knee into Malfoys thigh and Malfoy let out a yelp of pain.
Harry startled, coming back to himself - torn between wanting to help and wanting to hurt.
His grip slackened enough to let Malfoy’s wrists free and then Malfoy was kissing Harry hard.
Harry didn't allow himself to think, he just moved - kissing back feverishly, intoxicated with the soft slide of Malfoys mouth parting under his own. It felt natural, as easy as breathing. Malfoy was arching his body into Harry’s and Harry rolled his hips unconsciously in answer.
Harry opened his eyes, scarcely even noticing that he had closed them. They had made their way onto their sides.
Harry breathed in the sticky sweet scent of Malfoy's breath. Harry's hands were slack, and Malfoy's grey eyes glittered beautifully. One of Malfoy’s hands was on Harry’s hips, and Harry just concentrated on how good that felt. He felt sensitized, realizing that he had been missing touch, he wanted to be touched like this forever -
Malfoy abruptly rolled away from Harry, kicking up dirt and grass. Harry watched for a moment, stupefied, as Malfoy took off at a bolt back towards the party. Harry dragged a hand down his side, searching for Malfoy’s wand with dawning horror. Of course it was gone.
Harry scrambled up to his feet, peeling off after him. With each step, he grew angrier and angrier.
Malfoy was fast, even without a broomstick.
Harry zeroed on Malfoy's blonde hair like the sheen of a snitch. Voices grew louder, and the colorful tents came into cheerful view. Harry's world had narrowed the rhythm of his breathing.
Malfoy slipped in between two partygoers Harry didn't recognize, and Harry had to slow down to avoid hitting them. He went to dart around them when a hand reached out to grab Harry's shoulder.
Harry jerked away from the grip.
It was Ron grinning broadly, smelling strongly of firewhiskey, and Ron was saying something Harry couldn't understand over the roar of blood pumping in his ears.
Ron's grin faltered, then he looked concerned.
"I said, we’ve been looking all over for you!” He bellowed.
"I...okay?" Harry babbled, his eyes darting over the crowd of people toasting and laughing. Music swelled over a group of dancing witches.
“Did you hear?” Ron went on, undeterred.
“Hear about what?” Harry responded, feeling defeated.
“Word just came in - Lucius Malfoy is getting the kiss!” Ron crowed. “Serves him right, the bastard! C’mon, let’s get you another drink...”
For @drarrymicrofic prompt: dust/ash
