Author's Note: For Madam Malfoy, because she wanted an angry snog.
The Place Where Harry Popped His Cherry
"It's all your fault!"
For the past ten minutes, Harry Potter had felt all sorts of emotions between calmness and irritation. But now, after hearing Draco Malfoy repeat that phrase for the hundredth time, he felt himself almost giving way to his anger.
He tried to pretend that he didn't hear anything and stared at the blank space somewhere beside Draco's ear. I will not lose my temper. He strove to take shallow breaths. One. Two. Three... He smiled inwardly as he felt most of his annoyance seep away, and for a moment, he almost forgot that he wasn't alone.
"If YOU hadn't shown up here like some stupid first year, rattling about the place with your clumsiness, then I wouldn't have been in THIS situation!"
Harry sighed. He knew the illusion was too good to last.
His fault? Why... it was Malfoy's doing that landed them in this predicament. He, Harry, had sneaked into Snape's office, hoping to steal a few innocent herbs for an innocent little prank, only to find that he wasn't the only one who had thought of doing it that same night. Draco, thinking he was alone, had dropped the jar of beetle's eyes in shock when Harry had suddenly poked him on the back. The glass shattered on the floor, creating a noise that could surely be heard in Snape's bedroom, which was right below the office. In their panic, they both squeezed into the only hiding space visible to them, fought their way in, and locked the closet door--not knowing that it was magically charmed to stay locked... until someone (probably Snape, that asshole) would come and release them from their prison.
Harry frowned slightly, wishing he were somewhere else. "Shut up, Malfoy."
"Hah! So you're talking now. And has the doubtfully brilliant Boy Who Lived thought of anything useful to actually get us out of here?"
"Malfoy, I'm trying to think." His patience was wearing dangerously thin. But he could still take it. He would have loved to sock Draco's jaw but the cramped space of Snape's Potions closet prevented any possibility of that happening. They were practically squashed together inside the stuffy closet without any visible means of escape (they had both stupidly left their wands in their rooms). Harry closed his eyes.
It was no use. He could still see THAT SMIRK!
Draco snorted loudly. "Don't bother, Potter. If I have to depend on your intelligence then-"
"I. Said. Shut. Up."
Grey eyes narrowed in anger. "If you think that you can just order me around..."
Harry suddenly stopped hearing the words. In the faint light of the closet, all he could see was Draco's angry, flushed face, and his lips--forming the hateful words he knew were directed to him. And in that moment, Harry felt the sudden urge to destroy Draco--wipe him and his snobby little nose off the face of the earth... or at least traumatize him with something so vile that he would just stop existing and leave Harry alone.
And what thing could Draco Malfoy possibly hate in the whole wide world?
The idea was so sudden, and so crazy, that if he had a second to think about it, Harry knew that he wouldn't have been able to carry it through. But he didn't have a second; just a flash of an idea that somehow ordered his whole body to act.
And act he did. For Harry, in a fit of strange fury, lunged onto Draco and kissed him--hard--on the mouth.
Draco couldn't have known what was coming. For a moment, he had been cursing Harry and his irksome Gryffindor dumbness. The next moment, he was kissing him. Or more appropriately, Harry was mashing his lips to pulp with sheer force. Draco yelped, but the sound disappeared somewhere between Harry's teeth and his as the dark-haired boy ground his tongue against Draco's.
Draco's head smashed to the wall, rocking the few glass jars that sat precariously on a wooden shelf. He swung his arm up, supporting the jars against the wall with his hand. They didn't fall.
But that didn't change the fact that he was STILL kissing Harry Potter.
Then, just as suddenly as it happened, he wasn't.
Harry stared at him, wide-eyed, his breath coming in long, loud, gasps. He moved away from Draco as much as he could, shocked by his own actions.
Draco tasted something strange and metallic on the tip of his tongue. Blood. He blinked at Harry. The damned Gryffindor bit him. He actually bit him!
"You bit me!" he accused.
Harry opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Speak, dammit! "I... I... I kissed you." He said it like he couldn't really believe it. He was still wondering at what happened, his own action unable to sink into his brain fast enough to let him utter an appropriately sarcastic rebuttal.
Draco blinked again. Harry kissed him? He licked his lips. His swollen, bleeding lips. Yes! He did kiss him!
"Yes?" Harry asked breathlessly. He was still staring at Draco, marveling at the way the Slytherin seemed to be taking everything in stride. Was he even affected? He fucking made him bleed!
"You... you popped my cherry."
He was clear-headed enough to understand that. "I WHAT??!"
"My cherry." Draco pointed to the floor. Harry lifted a foot. Sure enough, a small sticky mess was lying underneath his left boot. Apparently, he had stepped on Draco's prize, stolen from Snape's vast collection: one cherry marinated in dragon's blood.
"Your cherry," Harry echoed blankly.
"Uh, yeah. I dropped it when you kissed me." Draco unexpectedly blushed. Did he just say kiss? "Those cherries are mighty rare."
Harry exhaled loudly. For a moment, he thought he had blacked out and done more than he thought he did.
He looked up, knocking his head lightly on the wooden wall. He'd think about it later. But for now, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
"I'll get you another one, Malfoy."
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