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“I dream about you,” Potter says suddenly, in the middle of their Potions lesson. His voice is quiet but resolute. “Nearly every night.”
Draco pauses. None of the other eighth-years have noticed Potter’s strange confession. The classroom is a busy hum of activity. “Pardon?”
“I dream about you,” Potter repeats. “I can’t stop saying it.”
Draco looks down at the textbook before him. Jobberknoll feathers. Adder’s Fork. Octopus Powder. Combined in the right amounts, the ingredients make a simple truth serum.
“You great bloody prat,” Draco hisses, eyes darting over the other students. “You’ve inhaled the steam! You’re compelled to tell the truth.”
Potter winces. “I wish I could lie to you,” Harry answers, knuckles white as they lean heavily against their bench, “but I can’t. I fancy you Malfoy.”
This is news to Draco. “You fancy me?”
“Very much,” Potter spits out, like the words cause him physical pain. “Since the summer. The day that I brought your wand back? That was the first night that I dreamt about you… I was kissing Ginny, like always, but then it turned rougher… And suddenly we were naked. She was trailing her lips down my body.” Potter gulps, shaking his head like that might dislodge the image. “Then I knotted my fingers in her hair, but it wasn’t long anymore... It was short, and blond, and when I looked down it was you… And then your lips were on my prick, and it was so warm and wet. Your tongue swirled and you were sucking, and I couldn’t help myself. I came all over the sheets like I was fourteen again.”
Draco’s cheeks flame at the confession and his cock twitches with interest. Potter has clearly inhaled a lungful of potent potion. He knots his hand into the sleeve of Potter’s robes and drags him into the storeroom.
“You want me to suck your cock?” Draco asks, as soon as the two are alone. “That can be arranged. There are secret places around the school where boys like us can have fun.”
Potter nodded his head, frantic. His mouth was slack with lust and his green eyes were hazy. “Fuck, but I’d love that. I’d love to swallow you down too. Love to taste you.” He lets out a shaky exhalation. “I don’t want it to be a dirty secret though. I don’t want it to be some sordid thing. I want… I want everything with you.”
Draco can't help himself. He leans in and presses a kiss across Potter’s quivering throat. “Everything?”
“I want the world to know about us,” Harry utters, voice cracking on the last word. “I want to watch you sleep in the mornings, your face buried in my pillow. I want to go to Hogsmeade with you and hold your hand. I want to sit on your lap like Hermione does with Ron… I want to fuck you, and kiss you, and share all my firsts with you-“
Harry had said enough. Draco broke his words off with a kiss.
Potter stumbles into his arms; warm, willing and delightful. Draco’s hands tangle in Potter’s ridiculous hair, and he tastes like coffee and the chocolate pudding they’d had at lunchtime. Potter’s body is firm and hard. This is exactly like Draco’s own secret desires and is so bloody good.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Draco mutters into Potter’s skin. “Since I was eleven. No more hiding. No more secrets.”
Draco plunges back into their kiss, very shocked at his candidness. He wants to confess his every fantasy. Draco grins. It seems Potter isn't the only wizard with a lungful of truthfulness.