Title: Understanding

Author: chibidark angel

Warnings: some mild guy-on-guy action, nothing too bad

A/N: heydee! chibidark angel yet again, and with another one-shot, yet again. This was actually an original essay I wrote for English, and I thought it would make a great one-shot for harry potter! So pleeze read and enjoy, and pleeze review! I actually really like this story, I think it's cute. ENJOY!!

Understanding

Stars. That's what was above him and around him, stars – stretching all around and twinkling wisely in the infinite abyss above him. The coldness nipped and caressed his cheek, while a low wind keened in his ear; echoing the silent cry of his soul as it twirled about the fiery gods, seeking its relevance.

The teen, a young man with deep emerald orbs and messy black hair streaked with red, sighed as he shifted slightly in his laid-back position on the roof of his school. This was his sanctuary; his place of respite when he couldn't handle any more from the over-bearing world around him, or friends who barely tried to understand him. The teen frowned as memories from that afternoon came back to him, floating up from repression…

"But Harry, you can't be serious!," Hermione, one of his best friends said in an imploring tone, "V-Voldemort's crazy and extremely powerful – taking him on alone is suicidal! You know we're here to help you, we always have been."

"Well maybe I don't want your help," Harry spat back, his jaw clenched in stubborn anger.

"Come on mate, there's really no need for this," Ron, his other best friend replied worriedly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "We've gone through everything together, me and Mione have always been there for you."

"No, you're not listening," Harry retorted through gritted teeth, "I don't need or want your help, and besides, you haven't always been there! You've only ever come so far; every time, it's always been Voldemort and I, no one else. I am always alone."

"But Harry, how can you say that, you are not alone," Hermione cried out in protest.

"Yeah, you've got us, you don't have to be alone; why won't you let us help you?" James asked in a puzzled tone.

"Because I don't want to!" Harry yelled, "God, everyday it's the same bloody thing from you two – nothing but how I'm not alone, about the danger, about Voldemort, and all the time with those sickening looks of adoration on your faces. Well guess what – I'm not some fucking hero for you to worship! And you can never help me, I have to face this alone; it's always been that way, but you can't seem to accept that! You're my friends, can't you even try to understand me?"

As his two best friends since first year gaped in shock at him, Harry glared angrily at them, before turning and quickly storming off.

Harry frowned and growled in frustration as he muddled over the memory. Why couldn't his friends see that this was something he had to do alone, that naturally he didn't want to, but it was the way it had to be. He was the god-damn saviour of the bloody world, and he shouldn't need anyone. However, he couldn't seem to let his friends go, as much as he knew he had to, and he was so confused and the felt so alone his mind was in turmoil, as he tried to figure things out.

A young teen stealthily and quickly climbed the stairs up into the astronomy tower. Once he was up there, he took a quick look around to make sure there were no teachers around, or worse Ms. Norris and Filch. Once he found he was in the clear, he scowled; silvery orbs instantly darkening as he ran a hand through his floppy blond hair. Turning, he made his way into and across the astronomy room, his lean frame softly illuminated by the torches hanging overhead. He quickly stormed along, his mind buzzing with all sorts of fiery and melancholic thoughts. Honestly, who were other people to just assume he was in anyway content with his life? Just because he was rich, should that mean he was happy? Burdened with a maniac father who was content to serve a mudblood muggle-hating psycho, and an indifferent and probably alcoholic mother meant he was far from happy, but no one seemed to be able to understand that. He didn't have any very close friends… those people he occasionally conversed with were mere acquaintances, and that's the way he wanted it… So why did he continually feel this aching gap inside as of late? With a despondent sigh, the blond-haired teen reached the window that lead up onto the roof where he went to think, to escape.

As he climbed out of the window and up onto the roof, his spirit lifted a little bit – only to plummet down with a jolt, as he spied a familiar-looking teen already stretched out on the roof. Quietly, he pulled himself up onto the roof.

Standing up, he crossed his arms, sneered and said, "Well well, if it isn't the golden boy. Hello Potter."

Harry tensed as he heard a familiar drawling voice speak nearby. Turning he head, he frowned in annoyance as he beheld Draco Malfoy, one of the richest teens in school, and also his arch-nemesis since first year.

"Malfoy," Harry spat venomously, then sighed and flopped back spread-eagle on the roof as he muttered, "Go away, I'm not in the mood to fight."

"Good, me neither," Draco replied in a bored voice, as he took a seat beside Harry.

The two boys remained motionless in silence, gazing up at the midnight sky above them.

Suddenly Harry murmured, "You still here?"

"Yup."

"Why aren't you leaving?"

"Why aren't you?" Draco muttered in contempt, glancing at the teen sprawled beside him.

"Because I was here first," Harry mumbled defensively, his half-lidded eyes flicking momentarily in Draco's direction before returning to the stars above.

"Well I'm here now, so deal with it," Draco sneered in reply.

His expression softened though, as he turned away, a sad look on his face. Harry noticed this, and turned slightly on his side, so he could study the other teen.

The so-called 'ice prince,' was hunched up on the roof, knees drawn up to his chest, and hair blowing around his face. He was staring out into empty space, looking lost and lonely, and Harry felt a slight twinge deep inside as he recognised the look on Draco's face; it was the same look he met everyday in the mirror.

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" he questioned softly.

"No," Draco answered shortly, gaze still focused on the distant horizon.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes I'm sure," Draco snapped in an annoyed tone.

"Okay, it's just that you look like you've got a lot on your mind, and I am here if you want to unload," Harry shrugged indifferently.

"There is nothing I want to say and that's final," Draco growled in exasperation.

"Whatever you say," Harry murmured, rolling back onto his back to search the stars again.

The two teens remained in silence for a while, just staring up at the stars, searching for the understanding, for answers to questions they couldn't voice.

Eventualy, Draco flopped back with a disgruntled sigh, one hand propping his head up and the other resting at his side; mirroring Harry's position.

"Harry?" he questioned softly and hesitantly.

"Mmm?" Harry murmured sleepily.

"Do you hate me?"

Harry's eyes flew open and he immediately went to give an affirmative answer, before he paused, frowning; actually thinking over the question and his true feelings for Draco.

"No…I guess I don't," he admitted in a surprised tone, "At least not now. Do you hate me?"

"No," Draco replied, shaking his head, "I don't think I ever have really."

"Then why do we still fight?" Harry asked in a confused tone.

"It's expected I suppose, by everyone," Draco shrugged, then smiled sadly as he added, "Almost seems too late to reconcile, although this yeah we haven't actually been fighting, not really."

"No, I suppose not," Harry murmured.

The teens lapsed back into silence, contemplating the new revelations. Languidly, Draco stretched and shifted; seeking a more comfortable position. As he settled back, he dropped his hand to one side, and suddenly, the two teens hands were touching.

It was the lightest of touches: just the two pinkies resting side-by-side, but it was enough to send a jolt of shock through Harry's body, yanking him out of the sleepy musings he had fallen into, his eyes popping open as he silently inhaled a surprised gasp. However, instead of flinching and yanking his hand back as he had expected he would have done, he remained motionless, his finger touching off Draco's; sending those little jolts of shock coursing through his body. Far from being uncomfortable however; the jolts were like fiery shots which warmed his veins. The feeling was comforting, exciting, terrifying and oh-so-new; all Harry could think of was that he didn't want it to end, so he remained perfectly still, staring up at the midnight sky. The two teens remained motionless and silent; neither daring to move, until slowly, Draco moved his pinky up and down; gently rubbing against Harry's. Harry meanwhile was staring straight ahead, eyes wide; the stars rapidly moving in and out of focus as he fought to control his almost gasping breathes. What the hell was this, this…extreme, unexpected feeling threatening to overload his senses – and all from a simple touch? It was so surreal, he had never experienced anything like this; and he wanted more. Slowly, and hesitantly, he started to move his finger back against Draco's not even daring to flash a glance at the other boy. He thought he heard Draco gasp softly, but put it down to his imagination, as he concentrated on not letting this new sensation overwhelm him.

The two boys lay in silence, staring at the stars who gazed regally back as they gently rubbed their fingers off each other. After a few moments, they began to gradually inch their hands closer and closer, pausing every few moments, before inching closer some more, until finally, Draco's hand was on top of Harry's. Harry silently let out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding in, as he hesitantly spread his fingers, allowing Draco's to slip in between them. Draco gently curled his fingers around Harry's and suddenly – they were holding hands! Harry and Draco lay there on the roof, barely daring to breath let alone move, dare this enchantment be shattered. A hush lay like lead upon them, heralding the confusement which raced through their minds, yet the stars which they pleaded so desperately with offered no consolation; only cool indifference.

Eventally, it was Harry who pulled free of the taciturn atmosphere, as he shakily whispered, "What are we doing?"

"I don't know," came the soft reply, "I don't know anything right now…except…I – I don't want to let go…"

"Me neither," Harry whispered, a little louder now, as he tightened his grip on Draco's hand.

Draco tightened his grip in reply, and silence reigned once again as the two boys clung to each other's hands like they would to a lifeline – and perhaps that's exactly what this all was to them.

This was their lifeline from all the pain and loneliness they had been trying to escape; as this feeling, so heady and sensuous, washed over them. They were both delirious and confused at the same time, not knowing what was coming next, but looking forward to it nevertheless.

After a while, Harry frowned, as an earlier question crept back to niggle at the back of his mind.

"Why did we fight?" he asked in a clear tone, still not turning to look at the other teen.

Eleven had been six years – six long years – ago, and the whole beginning of his and Draco's fight seemed so distant, like a foggy memory to him now.

"It was probably over something stupid," Draco snorted in contempt, "We were children – selfish and self-centred. We didn't know any better back then."

"And now?" Harry asked softly, for the first time turning his head towards Draco.

"Now…" Draco frowned in a puzzled manner, then shrugged and replied in a sort of sad tone, "I don't know why we fight – old habits die hard I guess, " he finished, staring back at the blue-eyed teen.

"As do old grudges," Harry commented musingly, "Which are also not easily forgiven, and yet we have forgotten ours."

They lapsed back into silence, a strange sense of loss aching inside, as they finally regarded each other in a new light. Their clasped hands still offered that exhilarating sensation, yet it had changed somewhat; it was comfort and reassurance – reassurance that they weren't alone, that maybe there was someone else who could understand them. It surrounded them like a protective bubble, as they finally got the chance which a childish bicker had taken away.

"So…what's this?" Harry asked with a slight arch of his eyebrow, raising their clasped hands slightly.

Draco's brow furrowed as he regarded the two hands still grasping each other tightly. He let out a sigh of frustration as he sought the right words to describe their joining, running a hand through his hair, spiking it even more.

"A beginning, which would mean an end," he began slowly, "maturing…a connection…what do you think?" he asked almost desperately, cheeks flushed with nervous energy as he bit on his lower lip; looking so lost and frightened.

Harry took one glance down at their hands, before looking back up as he smiled and replied, "I would call it comfort."

Immediately, Draco's eyes lit up and he smiled – a genuine, radiant smile that took Harry totally by surprise, and the next thing he knew he was grinning goofily back at him. He suddenly caught himself, and quickly glanced away, blushing, as he shifted slightly. As if able to read his mind, Draco shifted too, and together, the two teens pulled themselves up so that they were sitting side-by-side; their hands hanging between their bunched-up forms.

Slightly more relaxed now, Harry and Draco sat in an amiable silence, looking up once again at the stars: still searching and still finding nothing. Draco glanced nonchalantly at Harry; taking in his delicate features, his roundish face, and the couple of lines here and there on the smooth canvas, which formed the thoughtful, yet weary expression he wore at the moment.

"What are you thinking?" he asked curiously, siddling closer so he was facing the other boy at an angle.

Emerald eyes captured Silvery, still slightly weary, before Harry sighed and answered in a soft and small voice, "I'm tired of being alone and so misunderstood."

"Me too…" Draco said in a low tone, gazing upwards.

He sighed in a tiresome way, and looked back at Harry as he admitted in a despairing tone, "I don't want to look for myself in a stars…I can see myself right here…in you," he murmured, slowly reaching out with his free hand to touch the side of his face; thumb tracing a line across the ridge of Harry's cheekbone.

Harry felt his breath hitch in his throat as Draco touched him, his thumb barely grazing off his cheek as he stroked his skin. Suppressing the urge to close his eyes, he swallowed hard, his mouth already dry as he gazed at Draco, who's gaze was fixed on his fingers. Harry inwardly marvelled at how different Draco looked when he wasn't sneering, or taunting or offering snide remarks. His features were defined yet delicate, strong yet graceful – one would say beautiful, and Harry almost did.

Not knowing why he did, just that he had to, Harry asked one last time in a shaky voice, "Why did we fight?"

"Maybe, it was all we could do at the time," Draco replied, still staring at his fingers as they ran down the side of Harry's face, stroking the lobe of his ear delicately.

"But now?"

"Now, we know…we're different, a little bit wiser…we have more choice," Draco replied, cupping Harry's cheek.

"So what do you want?" Harry asked, placing his free hand over Draco's.

Startled, Draco quickly looked up into Harry's eyes, as he replied in a confused tone," I want…acceptance, understanding. I want…to…feel," he finished clearly, as he and Harry simultaneously began to lean towards each other.

Eyes fluttered shut as mouths met; softly, but firmly. Lips gently parted as tongues sought out more contact. The kiss was soft and warm; full of solace and relief. Inwardly, the two boys' souls cried out with the ecstasy of it all; of the comfort, and mutual feelings of trust and understanding swept over them. It offered everything they had been searching for; clearing away all the doubt and frustration they had gone through, setting their minds and souls free to thrill to the midnight sky. Yet all too soon it came to an end, and regretfully, the teens parted, slowly – as they gazed deeply, solemnly and wondrously at each other; their hands still clasped by their sides.

The boys smiled softly at each other, and Draco said, "I'd better go," in a small sad tone.

Harry nodded, glancing down at their joined hands. He slowly uncurled his fingers, vowing never to forget the feeling which had come from that simple touch. The two hands parted ways, and suddenly, the spell was broken. Impassive-looking as ever, yet with a hint of a smile in his eyes, Draco gave a curt nod, then turned and swept off down through the window of the tower to return back to his room. Harry flopped back on the roof, back to where he began. However, this time, it was with a sense of relief and comfort which enveloped him, that he gazed at the stars; no longer questioning them, no longer caring about their stoic and uncaring reply.

It was strange; Draco and he hadn't mentioned once school, or Voldemort, or deatheaters or anything to do with the impeding war, yet it had been such a fulfilling experience, talking together, showing themselves to each other. However, it was now over; Draco and he would probably never share and experience like that together again. Harry felt pretty sure that this marked the end of their fighting, but as to what it marked the beginning of, he didn't know – maybe friendship, probably nothing any more than that, but for some reason Harry didn't mind. He simply grinned as he went over the memory of what had just happened; it was that which he would keep with him forever.

"Such a gift can only be received once,

And perhaps is only needed once."

"I will live and survive," Harry murmured as he stood; ready to face the world.

He wasn't alone after all.

Well, waddaya think? Good, bad, or just plain ugly? Lol, well let me know what you think, please review, pleeeezzzeeee!!! Farethee well!