A Good Plan

Author's Notes: Conjured up while reading - what do you know? - Harry Potter fanfics. I haven't slept since midnight last night, so if anything seems strange to you. . .that's the lasting effects of insomnia.

It's AU, 'cause. . .Voldemort's dead, Draco's not evil, he and Harry are lovers, and apparently Ron and Hermione are engaged. Huh. . .

Warning: Slash.

Disclaimer: If I was J.K. Rowling, I don't think Harry Potter could have become such a popular children's book. . . In fact, I think I'd get in trouble if I tried.

He's sitting beside a tree on the Hogwarts grounds, gazing silently as soft ripples disturb the otherwise serene surface of the lake. The sun kisses all the skin it can reach on him, a gentle caress in the hazy calmness of the afternoon. It's a shame, really, that all days can't be like this - such a drastic change from the usual hectic psychoticism that is one's life at school.

It's such a comfortable feeling that maybe, just maybe, he can bask in the welcoming warm weater. Maybe, just maybe, he can drift to sleep, and it'll be peaceful.

So he does.

For a few minutes, it seems to have worked out well enough - he isn't having a bad dream, the weather hasn't taken a turn for the worse, and no one is there to disturb --

"Potter."

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," the bespectacled boy murmurs to himself, not bothering to move, or even open his eyes as he hears the voice of what might be a hybrid of friend and nemesis.

"Do you usually quote scripture in your sleep, or am I getting a rare treat?" A dry, sarcastic response, only to be expected from the one and only Draco Malfoy.

"Interesting how you didn't object to being compared to the devil, Malfoy." Harry lets a gentle smirk play across his lips, already anticipating the response he will receive.

"Oh, please," Draco scoffs, "as though the devil is anywhere near as magnificent as I, Potter. And here I had begun to think you were granted with at least some intelligence, although the amount is far from copious."

"Pompous and condescending as always, I see." His jade green eyes are revealed, twinkling with mirth, an expression rarely witnessed from the boy.

Eyes of palest blue grey mirror the expression, and were anyone to intrude upon this moment (a lucky, although admittedly far-fetched occurence), they would be unable to suppress pleasant shock at the obvious camaraderie between the two supposed rivals; the near-tangible feeling of companionship that one only recognizes if one has been participant to such emotion before.

With a grace that Harry is positive only he can manage to possess, Draco seats himself beside the other youth, emitting a heavy sigh. "It's almost over, you know, Potter. School, I mean - we're nearly done with it. You realize that." His last comment is less of a question, and more of a statement.

"Another thing that's ending for me, Malfoy. . . And I'm hoping -" He hesitates here, uncertain now that he's begun. "- I'm hoping. . . that school will be the only thing that's ending, right now."

Now that he's spoken his mind, he's beginning to regret it, a faint blush creeping across his features. He feels as though he should never have even mentioned that, and wishes dearly that he had snatched one of those Time Turners that one night, that one night that seems to have been so long ago. He feels the warmth of a body just barely touching his, and bites his lip, a nervous habit that doesn't seem to have left him even now, at seventeen, and he's fairly sure it never will.

"I just can't even begin to believe what's happened, you know?" Draco gives a soft hum of comprehension, giving Harry signal to continue, so he does. "I can't. . . It just seems unfathomable, to think that he's really gone. That it's really all over. That after so many people died. . . it's just going to stop." He buries his head in his hands, hunched slightly over his knees. "And now all this. Ron and Hermione getting married this summer, McGonagall becoming Hogwarts' headmistress, school finally ending for us, me and you. . . It's as though everything - Fate itself - is just making things up as it goes, just improvising, and yet it has a plan in mind and it's just going to continue working on it without ever really being sure what --"

He's interrupted by a swift sensation on his lips, and it's gone much too soon, he thinks to himself, worries already thrown to the breeze.

"Potter." Those same soft lips that were only just pressed against his are the same ones speaking, warm breaths tickling his skin. His jade eyes stare into Draco's marble, and he grins goofily, not really sure as to why, but still glad to be doing so. "Harry," the lips start again, and the voice is so soft that if Draco were to move even an inch away Harry is sure he wouldn't catch it, "just stop thinking."

The silky smooth voice cuts off far too soon for Harry to relish its sound, but he finds himself okay with this as his lips are touched once again, a familiar feeling that never seems to get old. As Draco's mouth ravishes his, pale hands seem to have their own separate plans, one mussing Harry's already hopelessly disheveled hair, the other pressing lightly against his chest, rubbing soft fabric against equally soft skin.

It feels like it lasts forever until Draco pulls away, at which point Harry decides, no, that can't have been forever, because now it feels like it was barely a second, although his tingling tongue might beg to differ with his murky brain and racing heart on both the time span and intensity of their kiss.

They're sitting together again, albeit closer, and if one were to look he or she might notice the twining of their hands together, nestled in a small space between the two boys that's lined with the fabric of their cloaks. One would definitely notice the fact that Harry's head is snuggling against Draco's neck and shoulder, messy black hair contrasting magnificently with sophisticatedly neat platinum blond.

Draco sighs again, and although Harry cannot see his expression, he knows he has a playful smirk dancing across his face. "I feel compelled to reiterate, Potter: we've nearly finished with school, you know." He grips Harry's hand a bit more tightly. "And I'm fairly sure we've both inherited vast fortunes, you know."

The Boy-Who-Lived, and since a few months the Boy-Who-Saved-Everyone's-Collective-Asses, grins, nuzzling deeper into the crook of his lover's neck. "Yes, and?"

Draco rolls his eyes with a scoff, and if there's one thing that annoys him about Harry, it's his tendency to pretend he's oblivious. "And so, I decided something, and if you deny I will be forced to do something I may regret."

"Oh? You've enchanted me with your ever-so-mysterious hinting, Draco. Do elaborate."

"You're such a git, Potter. Maybe I should just leave, and pretend I never even mentioned it at all. . ." the pureblood teases, smirking fully now.

"Just tell you what it is, you prat," Harry huffs, obviously irritated that Draco has gotten the upper hand in their friendly verbal bout.

"Hm, well I suppose I must do it now, then," the blond states, deliberately inserting an air of arrogance into his reply. He drops the act, and pauses, possibly for dramatic effect, possibly to watch the giant squid drag a piece of toast to the murky depths of the lake. He can tell his boyfriend is becoming increasingly impatient, and revels in the fact that he can affect the other boy so greatly.

"I feel as though I should like to proposition you, Potter."

"Oh? And what might your proposition be, Malfoy?"

"Let's move in somewhere together."

". . .Are you serious?" Harry's voice is incredulous, and for a split second, Malfoy fears he might refuse, but then his apprehension is assuaged as an overtly gleeful Harry Potter latches himself to Draco, arms encircling his neck, all while muttering a joyful string of surprised exclamations, and maybe his boyfriend's name once or twice.

Draco returns the other boy's embrace, and as the surface of the lake settles once again, he mentally congratulates himself for thinking up such a good plan right on the spot.

Author's Notes: Finished writing this about seventy minutes after I thought it up. I'm not sure why I thought it up, because I've been reading Sirius X Remus (so cute) fanfics, but oh well - I find it's best not to question my own logic.

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