Disclaimer: anything in italics does not belong to me; it has been taken directly from Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows so that this story will make sense. Everything in Italics belongs to J.K Rowling and I am not in any way trying to claim that it is my own work.

"The door, get to the door, the door!" screamed Malfoy in Harry's ear, and Harry sped up, following Ron, Hermione, and Goyle through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace, and an old, discoloured tiara –

"What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!" screamed Malfoy, but Harry made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it dropped toward the maw of a yawning serpent, and then he had it, caught it around his wrist –

Harry swerved again as the serpent lunged at him; he soared upward and straight toward the place where, he prayed, the door stood open: Ron, Hermione and Goyle had vanished; Malfoy was screaming and holding Harry so tight it hurt. Then, through the smoke, Harry saw a rectangular patch on the wall and steered the broom at it, and moments later clean air filled his lungs and they collided with the wall in the corridor beyond.

Malfoy fell off the broom and gasped, coughed and retched as Harry sat up: The door to the Room of Requirement had vanished, and Ron and Hermione sat panting on the floor beside Goyle, who was still unconscious. Harry looked over at Malfoy once more and gasped in surprise as lips suddenly collided with his own – he felt strong, shaking hands wind themselves in to his hair and his eyes slid shut and his hands grasped at whatever he could find – his waist – as he responded with equal fervour. Knocked off-balance by the compromising position, Harry ended up falling backward to the ground whilst Malfoy kept their lips glued together, stubbornly refusing to let go as he held on to the boy he had craved since that first ever meeting.

After a moment, Draco finally pulled away, still panting and now red-faced from his rash actions. Harry maintained eye contact a second longer, hoping that he understood what he was silently trying to say. Hermione and Ron were staring at them as though they had just witnessed the impossible, but Harry ignored it, for a number of huge bangs shook the castle, and a great cavalcade of transparent figures galloped past on horses, their heads screaming with bloodlust under their arms. Harry staggered to his feet when the Headless Hunt had passed and looked around: The battle was still going on all around him.