We Are Grey

"We are grey; we stand, as the moth to the flame..."

Draco Malfoy sighed exasperatedly and sat up in his bed, running his hands through his silvery-blonde hair. Those infernal words. "Dammit," he murmured. He shook his head and cast a silver-eyed glare at nothing in particular. It was always the same. The same dream, ever since he and...Harry had broke it off. In his now awakened mind, it played itself over again.

Draco walked down the old beaten path, wondering what the hell he was doing here. He hadn't been here in ages. The path was long and winding, and it was full of memories. Memories he didn't want to visit. He had no choice but to keep going, however, so he did, albeit reluctantly.

Draco kept on walking for what seemed like eons, until he came to the clearing. Their clearing. He knew what he would find here, but he didn't like it. Or did he?

"Hullo Draco," a familiar voice whispered.

Green eyes, shockingly so, underneath plain, simple glasses and messy raven-colored hair, met his with such ferocious ingenuousness that it shook him to the core.

"How long has it been?" he continued, in that achingly soft voice, his eyes never leaving Draco's. "How long since we came here? Since...that night?"

Draco glared. "I don't care, honestly," he drawled hotly, "You were the one who fucked me over, remember?"

Harry's eyes finally left his, and Draco sighed with relief. Harry gazed up at the moon, bathed in its eerie light, making his strong features even more noticeable. His face was calm, as if this conversation was having no affect on him whatsoever. "Yes, I know. You never did listen to me properly, you know. I told you I loved you, and you fucked me over, then."

Draco crossed his arms over his chest, masking his emotions. Of course, Harry was right. He always was. "Well, now you know how it feels, eh, Potter? How it feels to be thoroughly screwed." He sneered for good measure, even if Harry wasn't looking. It seemed right.

Harry slowly met his gaze again. "Yes, but you know something? We'll always be drawn to each other. You know that, don't you, Draco?" he said serenely, cocking his head ever so slightly.

Draco scowled. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Potter?" He wouldn't let Potter have the satisfaction of knowing that all this calmness was getting to him.

Potter took a step closer, and Draco thought that Potter looked remotely ethereal in all this moonlight. And really nice, too. But that placidness....it was unnerving. Potter looked thoughtful for a moment, then he said softly, "We are grey; we stand, as the moth to the flame..."

Draco groaned. What the hell did that mean, anyways? Moth to a flame? We are grey? It made no sense. Not to mention, Potter's eerie calmness. The real Ha--Potter wouldn't have been so cool at all. He was terribly hotheaded...as were all Gryffindors.

Draco shook his head. It wasn't like he missed Potter...was it? He growled. Of course, he did. he missed Harry's stupid grin, his stupid messy hair, his stupid scar and their stupid sex. He missed it all, and damn Harry for know that. And damn Harry for figuring it out-- Draco Malfoy was in love with him.

But Draco wasn't going back. He had too much pride for that. He was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. And...it had hurt. He had meant what he said that night...standing in the rain, being confronted by Harry, tears running down both his and Harry's cheeks.

"No, Potter. It's just the rain."

No...he wouldn't let his guard down again. Never again.

***

Draco marched up the steps of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His appointment with the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was in ten minutes. He had been offered the position of the new Arithmancy professor after Professor Vector retired. He was going to accept, since he had nothing else planned right now. Not to mention, he and Granger had tied as the highest scoring in the class and on the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams in a century. He reached the gargoyle in front of the office and said the password. The gargoyle leapt aside and Draco made his way up the spiraling steps. He knocked once, and heard a cheery old voice say, "Come in, Mr. Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and entered the office. "Hullo, Professor," he said, sitting down in the seat across from the headmaster's desk.

"Mr. Malfoy, I would like you to call me Albus. You are no longer my student, nor have you been for two years," Albus said in an amused voice. His blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles.

Draco nodded. "On one condition. You call me Draco," he said with a grin.

Albus nodded his acceptance. "Now, Draco, I have heard of something rather unusual, in the fact that it could cause some...ah, disturbances among the professors. I am aware that you and Harry Potter were involved...romantically, and that it ended rather...badly. Harry is going to be filling in the Defense Against the Dark Arts post. I will warn you, as I did him, that I will not tolerate any personal problems seeping into the work of any of the professors. Am I clear?"

Draco nodded, carefully masking his anger. He wouldn't have accepted the post if he'd have known Harry was going to be here. But then, judging by the twinkle in Albus' eyes, he guessed the headmaster knew that. "You set me up, Albus," he said, a hint of a frown skirting across his pale features.

Albus just smiled. "You may go, Draco. Remember what I said. If you and Harry choose to talk about...things, be sure to take it to a private place."

Draco nodded curtly and exited the office, his emotions whirling. He was going to see Harry...again.

***

Draco sighed and looked in the mirror at the handsome man standing in front of him. The first term had officially started, and he was about to head down to dinner. Not that he wanted to. If he had his way about it, he'd simply have the house-elves bring him dinner here. He straightened his back and headed to the Great Hall. Most of the professors were already there, including...Harry. Draco scowled and took his seat, which was, unfortunately, by Harry. Harry looked uncomfortable and muttered a soft 'Hello'.

Draco nodded stiffly in greeting and watched all the students come into the Great Hall, yelling and talking about their summers.

"How has your summer been, Draco?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco slowly turned his head to face him, his eyes glaring daggers at the green-eyed man. "I think you know the answer to that, Harry," he said softly, but menacing-like.

Harry nodded slightly. "I know. Um, Did Albus tell--"

"Yes, I was informed of how everyone knows what happened between us, and I have to wonder how that came to be," Draco interrupted smoothly, his voice cold and calm, with underlying anger.

Harry bit his lip. "Well, I had to tell him, once he told me of your post and all. He had to know," he whispered.

Draco turned away as the Sorting began, silently declaring the conversation over.

After the Sorting was over, and the food was served, Harry decided to keep it going. "Er, Draco, why did you take the post if you knew I was going to be here?"

Draco glowered between bites. "I didn't know until after I had accepted. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have."

Harry blushed somewhat, and Draco forced himself not to look. "Oh, well, for what it's worth I'm--"

"Sorry?" Draco asked, in a deadly and soft voice, "You should be. I know I am. I won't make the same mistake again, however." The finality in his tone cause Harry to eat the rest of his dinner in silence.

Draco felt somewhat satisfied. He had finally gotten Harry to shut up, and yet he wanted an excuse to talk to him some more. So, after dinner, on the way back to their offices, he decided to do some Gryffindor-baiting. "So, Harry, you and Granger still hooking up?" he sneered.

Harry glared at him half-heartedly, as if he wasn't in the mood. "No. It turned out, Ron was under a love potion. Parvati got sentenced to Azkaban for about six months and Hermione and Ron are back together. Why don't you just go to your private bedroom and leave me alone? You made that quite clear during dinner." His eyes looked blank and detached, and Draco cringed inwardly.

"Goodnight, then, Potter."

"Yeah, same to you, Malfoy."

Draco watched Harry head the opposite direction and shook off the ache he felt. He headed back to his bedroom and took a quick shower before climbing into bed and falling into a deep sleep.

***

"We are grey; we stand, as the moth to the flame..."

"FUCK!" Draco screamed. He was really getting tired of this dream. It was as if Harry was channeling himself into his dreams, making him feel guilty at every second of every day. He heard the simple, soft voice whisper the phrase in his head all the time, and he could get rid of it.

He threw back his blankets and stalked to the bathroom to get ready for another day.

It was now second term, and he and Harry were on stiff speaking terms. They didn't say much, but their actions spoke a lot louder. Even some of the students were getting suspicious. Of course, he couldn't blame them. They played a sort of Russian Roulette, only with looks; one would stare, and then look away quickly, while the other stared-- back and forth, back and forth.

Even he was getting tired of it.

Still, he was firm in his standings. He was not going to be hurt again. Never.

Draco entered the Great hall in all his suaveness, and he thought he saw a couple of the seventh year girls sigh longingly. He frowned slightly and took his seat next to Harry.

"'Lo, Malfoy."

"Potter." A nod. That was all he'd get.

They ate in silence, and then exited in silence.

Lunch came.

"Malfoy." A sigh.

"Potter." Another nod.

Again, they ate in silence, then left in silence.

Then, at dinner...it was different.

"Malfoy, we need to talk."

Draco raised a brow. "Do we? I have nothing to say to you." He did, actually, but Harry didn't need to know that.

Harry frowned. "Well, I have something to say to you. So, meet me at my office tonight, eight o'clock." He began to eat his dinner, ending the conversation.

Draco scowled and finished his dinner as well. he would not go, of course. He wouldn't.

He did. He found himself standing outside of Harry's door at exactly eight o'clock, and suddenly it opened, revealing a very pleased Harry. "Come in," he said.

Draco frowned and stepped inside slowly. "Let's make this quick. What do you have to say to me? You're sorry? You love me? You'll never do it again? What?" he asked hotly.

Draco had no time to even blink as Harry punched his nose, and a sickening crack filled the room. Blood ran down over his mouth and he groaned loudly in pain.

"You deserved that," Harry said quietly, "I can't believe you'd say that. Actually, yes I can. Please leave."

Draco stalked out and marched up to the infirmary to have his nose fixed. He couldn't believe Harry did that. But then...he could. If Harry had said that to him, he would've seen red too.

Draco sighed with annoyance. Why did he always have these double-feelings? They were always there, contradicting him. He didn't want to talk to Harry, but he did. He didn't want to look at Harry, but he did. He didn't want Harry, but he did. He hated Harry, but he loved him.

Draco climbed into his bed, nose fully healed, and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

"We are grey; we stand, as the moth to the flame..."

Draco woke up with a yell and punched his bed. He got up and flung on some clothes. He was going there. He had to. He didn't want to....but he did. After wrapping his cloak tightly around him, he set off towards the Forbidden Forest to...their place...

Draco looked around in awe. This place was beautiful, but why did Potter want to meet him here? They could have fucked in the Astronomy Tower just as easily as here. But still, it was a pretty nice place. It was a small clearing with a huge rock in the middle of it. The moonlight was a ray of light that seemed to focus only on the rock, as if it was sacred. There were flowers everywhere, and they gave off a smell that was sweet and intoxicating, as well. "Potter?" he called out softly.

Arms grabbed him from behind and wrestled him to the ground. A familiar laugh sounded through the silent clearing, and Draco, who had tensed up in fear, relaxed and let himself be held. "I scared the shit out of you, didn't I?"

Draco turned his body around and kissed the snarky mouth passionately. "Bastard," he muttered against Harry's lips.

Harry shook his head and pressed himself against the blonde's body, moaning softly at the friction it caused.

Draco arched into Harry as his cock hardened and started to divest the raven-haired boy of his clothing.

Harry seemed just as desperate, and he, too, frantically worked at the other boy's clothing. Soon, they were skin to skin, and there was moonlight, and warmth and pleasure everywhere. The smells of the flowers were having a heady affect on the blonde and he shuddered as Harry took him in his mouth. "Harry..." he hissed.

Harry slid, cat-like, back up Draco's body and looked into his eyes, green meeting silver. That...that was when Draco knew. As Harry prepared to join them, and they were gazing into each other's eyes, Draco knew. He loved Harry Potter.

Draco sighed softly. This place...it was dear to him, and he couldn't bear it. Harry had hurt him, and yet here he was, in the very place where he made his revelation.

But he wasn't alone, it seemed. There, on the rock, bathed in moonlight, sat Harry. It was an exact replica of his dream, Draco realized with horror. He turned to walk away.

"Draco? Is that you?" a bewildered voice asked.

Draco turned around slowly. "Yes, Potter. It is," he said, sighing dejectedly.

Harry stood up from his place on the rock and made his way over to where Draco stood. "Why are you here?" he asked softly.

Draco shrugged. "I'd guess it's the same reason you are."

Harry looked down for a minute. "Sorry for your nose," he mumbled.

Draco shrugged again. "It's fine. So...why are you here, Potter?"

Harry looked up, his eyes as open as they were in Draco's dream. They made his heart ache. "I asked you first."

Draco smiled a ghost of a smile. "Yes. If you must know...this place is...memorable," he said softly.

Harry nodded, looking around. "Yeah, it is. We do need to talk, you know."

Draco shook his head. "No. If we do that, it'll mean...I'll...I can't. I just can't." He turned away and began to walk back to the castle.

Harry caught his arm in a vice-like grip and forced him to turn around. "Draco, listen to me, please! I... I need you," he said, his voice trembling.

Draco could feel his façade crumble as a burning sensation spread in his throat and his eyes began to moisten. "Potter, I can't. I swore I'd never be hurt again. You can't hurt me again!" he yelled, wrenching his arm away and breathing harshly.

Harry wiped his eyes furiously. "You're right," he croaked, "I can't. I'd die if I did."

Draco felt the tears fall down his cheeks, hot and salty. "No...I--we can't. No.." he whispered as Harry brought their bodies crashing together in a fierce hug, one that left no doubts whatsoever.

Suddenly, a clap of thunder roared and a torrential downpour started to come down on the two men embracing, their tears mingling and falling together. "Harry," Draco whispered.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. "God, I love you."

Draco nodded furiously against Harry's shoulder. "I love you, too, you know."

"We are grey; we stand, as the moth to the flame." A whisper, filled with a thousand promises.

~Finis~