Title: Tonight

Author name: triola

Category: Angst

Sub Category: Romance

Rating: T

Main Characters: Harry, Draco

Ships: H/D

Summary: Tonight wasn't about Harry or Draco, tonight was about two teenagers seeking comfort in each other as their worlds fell apart around them.

DISCLAIMER: No money being made, no copy right infringement, blah blah, don't own.

Author notes: See what I did there? I uploaded! And you thought I'd forgotten how! Hah, the joke is on you. No, but srsly, I'm not dead or anything. Just… usually not very inspired. I was now though! I wanted to write a fluffy H/D fic, but, as you can see, Harry and Draco didn't agree with me. They completely turned this story around and now we have an angstfest. Which I suppose is alright in itself, but I really wanted fluff :( Oh well, maybe next time.

Oh, also! Mucho mucho love to my Lami beta of awesomeness! -hearts-

It was raining. A slow and steady drizzle of water hit his head and shoulders, running down his cheek like a lover's caress. Harry was standing on the paved cobblestone road leading to the gates of Hogwarts, his eyes straining in the dark for any sign of movement. The rain made his lenses blur and it was hard to see, but he could just make out a dark shape making its way up the long, winding road from Hogsmeade. As the figure came closer, Harry could see the tall, sinewy shape of a young man, completely wrapped in a large, black cloak, his head bowed to escape the worst of the rain. He was walking briskly in a no-nonsense way that left no room for excess movement. There was no dangling of arms or gentle sway of hips, just long, curt strides designed to get him to his goal as quickly as possible.

Harry took a step forward and the other boy faltered in his steps, slowly lifting his head. A gust of wind threw his hood back and the telltale blond locks danced freely around the pale face, catching raindrops like a thirsty child. He watched Harry without a word, his face guarded and worn, his body tense, on the verge of bolting. Harry took another step forward and his companion visibly flinched.

"Malfoy," Harry said slowly, the silence of the woods around them lending a loud and harsh quality to what should have sounded so soft and gentle. The blond haired boy looked away at the sound, his mask hardening even as Harry watched. The tall trees threw long shadows over his face, sharpening the curve of his jaw and the proud set of his chin, making his cheekbones look acute, their edges like the blade of a knife.

"I was waiting for you," Harry offered, watching the Slytherin closely, needing to know if the words were even registering. To see if they made it past the cold, hard mask.

There was only silence. Harry was beginning to wonder if he needed to repeat himself when a terse "why?" made its way through pinched lips in a pale face.

"I missed you at dinner," Harry answered quietly, both of them understanding the implications. Draco closed his eyes and Harry's heart clenched. He wanted so desperately for the other boy to deny it, to tell him that he was being foolish, that of course he'd been at dinner. But he knew that wasn't possible. If that had been the case, they wouldn't be standing there, in the dark, Draco with his mask and Harry with his favourite sweater drenched by the rain.

"Yes." Draco answered the question no one had asked and Harry's heart broke.

He closed his eyes and felt his hands clench to fists of their own volition. "So this is it then?" His voice sounded hollow and strange even to his own ears.

"Yes."

Harry opened his eyes and he couldn't help the way they instantly flickered to Draco's left arm. The Slytherin saw his gaze and he tugged on his sleeve, drawing the black cloth further down as if that would somehow shield him from scrutiny. He must have seen the silent question on Harry's face, because he scowled deeply and forced out a harsh "no!", shifting his arm further back, away from the prying eyes of his one time nemesis.

"Why?" Harry sighed, his shoulders slumping. He felt the need to wrap his arms around his middle, but he didn't want to look too vulnerable.

"I don't want you to see it!" Draco retorted angrily, glaring at him.

Harry shook his head. "No," he said softly. "Why?"

Draco's face clenched for a moment before his mask slipped back into place. He looked emptily into the air, not meeting Harry's eyes. "You know I had no choice," he said harshly, the tone of his voice the only thing betraying his dissatisfaction with the situation and conversation at large.

"There is always a choice," Harry looked sharply at him, his eyes flashing behind his water-stained glasses.

"Not when there are lives involved." Draco shook his head, a small droplet of water losing its hold on his forehead and sliding down his nose. "I thought you of all people would understand."

Harry frowned, trying to curb his anger. "I do understand!" he gritted out, glaring at Draco. "What I don't understand is how you can talk like that when you've chosen the path you have! Hundreds will die at the feet of your Lord, a hundred more at the point of your wand!"

Draco's expression hardened. "You don't understand. They simply aren't worth as much!"

"As purebloods?"

"As my family."

Harry felt his anger desert him like the air out of a balloon, leaving only a pathetic, shrivelled shell behind. "So the next time I see you you'll be plotting my abduction and ultimate demise?" He asked tiredly, his voice filled with a bitterness he was unable and unwilling to hide.

"Yes," Draco answered, and Harry could see the painful realisation of truth on his face, just as it must have been obvious on his own.

"Alright," he nodded, the absurdness of the situation making him compliant. "Make it brilliant, will you?"

"Of course." Draco tossed his head as if the notion of a Malfoy doing anything that wasn't brilliant was ridiculous. And Harry supposed it was.

"Why not now, though?" Harry cocked his head to the side. "We're all alone," he said, motioning to the dark forest around them. "It would be the perfect opportunity."

Harry felt his frozen insides warm a little when Draco didn't even seem to consider it. "No," he said, shaking his head. "Not tonight." He looked up for a second, the drops of rain making small splashes as they met their destruction against his face only to slide down his neck and gather in the fabric of his cloak. "Tonight is not about war."

"What is tonight about?" Harry asked quietly, reluctant to break the mood of calmness that had suddenly made itself apparent in Draco's demeanour.

"Tonight..." Draco started, looking thoughtful. "Tonight is about the last vestige of innocence." His voice was soft and Harry had to strain to hear him. "Tonight is about what might have been, about what should have been, about the shredded remains of childhood. Tonight is about the naive belief that everything will turn out alright in the end. Tonight is about all the little things that cannot survive in the harsh reality of tomorrow."

Harry nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, taking a small step forward, then another, and another, until he was nose to nose with the other boy, feeling the warmth radiate from him through the cold of the night. "About what might have been then," he murmured gently, his hand reaching up trace the path of a raindrop down Draco's cheek.

Draco closed his eyes and his own hand came up to rest on top of Harry's. He slowly entwined their fingers and Harry could feel a pair of cold lips gently pressing against his knuckles. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and in a silent agreement the two of them slowly started making their way up the slippery cobblestone road, shivering in the cold even as their hands sought the warmth of another. They quietly made their way inside the sleeping castle, and Harry felt himself being led down into the dungeon, the familiar corridors now foreign and strange in the flickering torchlight.

The rooms of the Head Boy were located close to the Potions hallway, and Harry didn't think twice about following Draco inside. The details of the small room eluded him, his focus completely on the boy who was now standing before him, his wet hair hanging like pieces of yarn down his face and his eyes open and grey. Harry's glasses were slowly removed and then a warm mouth descended on his, offering the kiss of life to his frozen insides. He shivered as a rush of heat assaulted his senses and he buried his hands in Draco's cloak to prevent himself from slumping together like a doll without strings.

"Draco," Harry breathed and moved his hands down the length of his cloak, opening the buttons as he went along. Reaching the end of the journey he brought his hands back up the other boy's body, gently resting them against his chest, cataloguing the feeling of crisp cloth beneath his fingers and the slow rise and fall of another person's breathing. He slowly moved his hands further up, the cloak following his movements until he was able to watch it fall to the floor with a light push off the Slytherin's shoulders.

"Shhh," Draco whispered, cutting off any more words by another gentle touch of his lips. Harry nodded slowly, letting him know that he understood the need for silence. Tonight wasn't about Harry or Draco or Potter or Malfoy, tonight was about two teenagers seeking comfort in each other as their worlds fell apart around them. Tonight was about finding love where you could, when those who should have loved you more than anything were nowhere to be found. To seek protection in the arms of another, when those who should have given their lives to protect you had already done so or abandoned you to crash and burn. Tonight wasn't about words, tonight was about feeling, about realising that there was still warmth in a world of rain, and still love, in a world of pain.

Tonight they would live, because tomorrow they might not.

You know I'm shallow enough to love you more if you review.