Drarry Smut

Drarry- orphan_account (2)

(3186 words)

Moonlight streamed in through the arched windows, cascading the ground in a puddle of translucent light. Students, teachers, ghosts and portraits slept soundly in the peaceful dark. A series of light footsteps tapped against the stone floor as they rushed down the corridors, the wind brushing against the invisible cloth hanging from their shoulders. Continuing along the halls, Harry crept around each corner with caution, each step growing closer to his destination and closer to the boy awaiting him. Turning around the last corner, his feet jolted to a stop; his body freezing in place as the looming figure grew near. His breath hitched in his throat and sweat began to slip down his brow, the blood in his veins rushing to his ears as his heart thumped in his chest. The figure trudged by the invisible boy, oblivious of his presence and continued his way along the corridor, a lamp in hand illuminating his shadow. Harry slowly inched his way closer to the wall, his back colliding with the solid concrete as he tried to make himself as small as possible. One of his hands clutched onto the fabric of the cloak, tugging it closer to his body leaving no skin visible. His eyes remained fixed on Filch until he disappeared from sight: the light disappearing with him and once again shrouding him in darkness. A second passed before Harry's shoulders drooped, the tense muscles relaxing as a sigh escaped his lips. He pushed himself off the wall and slowly stepped out into the middle of the corridor, keeping his eyes on the corner Flich had left just incase he decided to turn back. His feet shifted as he pivoted on the spot, a few steps away from the wall which hid the Room of Requirement. However, he failed to realise the small feline that had crawled up to him, unnoticed, and sat by his feet as he was distracted. Before he knew it, he had tripped over the cat and tumbled to the floor, his cloak sprawled out atop his body. Mrs Norris hissed at the impact, her voice bouncing of the walls and echoing throughout the hallway. A sound which alerted the caretaker. A sound that made Harry's stomach drop. Seeing the faint light of the lantern return and the rising shadow, Harry wasted no time in pushing himself off of the floor and scrambling to his feet. He was so close to his destination that he wasn't going to get caught now.

As he was mere steps away from the room, the familiar big, oak doors merged before him and that faint rumbling sound filled his ears. His heart lifted as his hand grasped the knob and he pulled with all his might, dashing into the room. He skidded along the floor and swung the door shut in a flash, leaning against the wooden frame. Grabbing the cloak, he ripped it from his head, fisting it in his hand. His heart pounded in his ribcage as he caught his breath. That was close! So very close! Curse that stupid cat! He swallowed hard at the thought of getting caught, Filch would definitely have been ecstatic if he had caught Harry. He rubbed his eyes and puffed out his breath in relief. He made it. Looking around the room, he noticed its interior was different, not stacked with forgotten relics or junk. It was spacious.

A Chaise sat infront of a towering, ornate fireplace: a crackling fire already burning inside making the room glow. A small table sat between the fireplace and the chaise, atop a hearth rug. Sofas and armchairs were spread amongst the room and in the corner sat a four poster bed, wide and untouched. Something moved in his peripheral vision near the chaise sofa. He glanced away from the bed and caught eye contact with his company for the evening.

Draco.

"Well, well Potter, decided to show up then? What were you doing? Dragging your feet along the floor? Keeping me waiting for 30 minutes on purpose?" His expression was stotic, his voice dripping in sarcasm as he watched Harry walk his way, reaching him and plopping onto the sofa near the burning fire.

"So sorry to have kept you waiting, your Highness, but I almost got caught at the last minute. I'm lucky I even made it in here." Harry responded, sarcasm also present in his voice, mimicking Draco. Harry's skin, once chilly from the cold hallway, started to warm up: a content sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes, breathing in the burning fire wood and relaxed into his seat. The chaise dipped beside him as Draco sank down next to him. A hand grasped Harry's chin, pulling his face in close to the Slytherin boy's where a smug smirk sat upon his face, clear as day.