Title: Rival To Lover

By: AtobeLover

Summary: Ginny cheating on Harry only led to him finding who exactly he loved, and how he was going to protect him from Lord Voldemort and his orders to kill Dumbledore.

Rated: T

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Note: It takes place in their sixth year, and everything except Voldemort's command to Draco to kill Dumbledore is ignored. Along with DH and the epilogue.

He couldn't breathe. The world was converging in on him. He was suffocating. He gasped, but no air rushed in to calm him. There were hot tears in his eyes, burning his cheeks as they fell, soaking his shirt and robes and hands which came up to wipe them. He was shaking uncontrollably.

'Fuck,' he screamed, using up the last of his breath, and collapsing onto the cold stone floor on his knees. His head was starting to pound agonizingly, and his chest was aching. Harry Potter had never hated Ginny Weasley more than he did now.

The bathroom was eerily silent as he lay there, choking for breath, wiping his eyes repeatedly on his sleeve. He was right in front of the sinks. If he raised his head he would be staring at the pipes which went into the floor from the basins above. He slowly took a rattling breath, deep enough to give him some strength in which to stand up and rest his hands against the edges of the white marble. There was a mirror in front of him. He looked up, and saw a most miserable sight. Paler than a ghost, his face was, and his eyes, beautiful green emeralds, were red from crying so hard, all the way from the Gryffindor common room to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where no one would interrupt him and his grief.

He really hated Dean Thomas, too. He wanted to murder the both of them, to be honest. Harry didn't get over heartbreaks easily.

He slowly turned the tap on the sink, rotating the head. A trickle of water emerged, falling gloomily into the hole with dull sounds. He put a hand underneath the flow, collecting water in his palm, before taking his glasses off with the other hand and then splashing the water on his hand and using the other, dryer sleeve to wipe away the water. It didn't do anything to help. He was still feeling stifled and was still crying his eyes out, trying to forget the pain.

There was a small noise behind him, which sounded like a pair of feet. The sound stopped at the entrance to the bathroom. Harry didn't turn around. Didn't look at the mirror. He just cried more and more, remembering the entwined figures he saw, curled in an armchair in front of the fire, remembering the sounds and rustling and the messed-up ginger hair falling down her back. A keening sound was coming from him, as he pressed his lips together in an effort to just stop crying.

'Potter?' someone asked uncertainly, but not without a certain sneer in the boy's voice. Then did Harry turn around to see platinum blond hair, ghostly white skin, piercing silver eyes, and a very much tentative expression on his face. Potter closed his eyes. Two more tears fell down. 'Not in the mood to deal with your insults, Malfoy, fuck off,' he moaned, turning around again, and noting in the mirror that Malfoy was still standing there like a hesitant git.

'Oh, who made the Chosen One cry? I'd like to put them on a throne, you see, so tell me, Potter, what happened?' Draco Malfoy moved forward, walking to stand right behind Harry, so his face was peering over Harry's shoulder in the mirror. Harry said nothing, forcing the flow of water from his eyes to stem. His cheeks were feeling raw from the amount of times he had rubbed the wetness away. He didn't dare to look at the mirror again, didn't dare to turn and push Malfoy away, for fear he would collapse onto his rival with the sheer heartbreak he was suffering from. And he did not want that sort of humiliation.

'What happened?' Malfoy asked again, and there was a certain gentleness in his tone that Harry hadn't ever heard when he was around the blond boy, that spurred Harry to answer shakily.

'Ginny … she—she cheated … on me. W-With Dean. Dean Thomas.'

'Poor Potter, can't keep anyone for more than a few days?' Draco jeered cruelly. His derision sparked no response from the silent boy. Harry had stopped crying, but tears were still glistening in his eyes. Draco forced Harry to turn around. 'She doesn't know what she's losing, Potter,' he mumbled. Their faces were extraordinarily close. Harry didn't understand how Draco went from tenderness to taunts to gentleness again, but he didn't say anything.

There were a few footsteps sounding from the corridor outside the bathroom, and the faltering voice of Ginny Weasley: 'Harry? Are you in there? Harry, I'm sorry, where are you?'

Draco and Harry froze.

The steps were getting louder. Ginny was at the door of the bathroom. And suddenly, impulsively, Malfoy pulled Harry to him the extra few inches, and their lips met in a passionate kiss. Harry was too surprised to do anything, but after two seconds he realized the motive and fervently kissed back, not caring it was a bloke, not caring it was Draco fucking Malfoy. When Ginny entered the bathroom, she was met by two boys locked in an impassioned embrace. She gasped as she saw Draco Malfoy wrapped around her boyfriend. That aside, they were arch rivals. Fucking arch rivals.

'Harry!' she cried, shocked, but they paid no attention to her, kissing feverishly. Draco's hand moved to run through Harry's hair, messing it up even more than usual, and Harry's mouth opened in surprise. Draco snatched the chance to kiss him even more deeply, becoming intrusive with his tongue and giving Harry new sensations which thrilled him.

Ginny's third yelp of 'Harry!' made them take notice of her, after studiously and purposely ignoring her for the first two. They looked at her but didn't move even an inch away from each other, wrapped like a Christmas present. 'What are you doing?' she asked.

'Isn't it obvious, bitch? Staring at you,' Draco drawled, turning Harry's back to her so he could face Ginny, lying his head on Harry's shoulder. Ginny oddly jerked forward, but did not move a step. 'I meant before that,' she managed to blurt out.

'Oh, I don't know, I'd call that "snogging our brains out", wouldn't you, Harry?'

'Mm,' Harry agreed, still gazing at the mirror to gauge Ginny's reaction.

'He's—Harry's my boyfriend!' Ginny said.

'Yeah, blood traitor, that's why you were so close to fucking Thomas. Everyone in this room knows.' Harry turned his head and kissed Draco's neck. 'Drake, language.' Ginny's face went positively red. 'Drake?' she asked, with more than a bit of jealousy. 'You call him Drake?'

'Yes, Weaslette, I believe that it is called a nickname, a shortened version of one's name, used endearingly to address someone,' Draco scathingly replied, tightening his arms around Harry's waist. Ginny couldn't bear that one gesture. 'Harry, you're cheating on me?' There was pain in her eyes. Draco felt Harry shaking in his arms, burying his face in Draco's shoulder. Draco replied, 'No, he just kissed me after your relationship with him was annulled after you sucked Thomas's face. I wouldn't call that cheating, although what you did qualifies without doubt.'

'That was a mistake!' Ginny said. The pain left her face. She balled her hands into fists and then said, 'Fine, Harry, it's over!' And then Harry raised his head and said to the mirror, 'Thank Merlin.'

Ginny turned on her heel and left.

Harry immediately pushed Malfoy away from him, cursing.

Malfoy watched it all with a blank face. Then, as Harry came close to the end of his rant of tears and fury, Draco kissed him again. Harry shoved him off. 'She's gone, Malfoy.' Draco didn't reply, kissing him again. Harry repeated his words. 'Ginny's gone, quit it.'

'I know, Potter, but this is the only chance I'll be getting, the closest thing to a relationship between us, so will you just shut it and let me kiss you? I wanted to do it since I was eleven, actually. But the hand I extended was rejected. Not to mention you're a bloody Gryffindor.' Draco slowly put a hand on Harry's cheek, cupping his face. His sharp grey eyes had gone soft, and Harry's heart was somehow beating too fast to detect a rhythm within the loud thuds. Draco Malfoy didn't hate him, and somehow, if someone had told this to him earlier, he would have laughed in their face, but right now, he was absolutely okay with it. He loved it, in fact.

Draco's lips touched his again, and Harry responded by kissing him back ardently. 'I love you, Potter,' he murmured against Harry's lips, and that sent a shiver down Harry's back and a thrill through his heart. 'Mm,' he said, the same "word" he'd used earlier to agree with Draco. 'Love you, too,' he whispered back, closing his eyes and losing himself in Draco Malfoy.

He was breathing hard. Too hard. Air was rushing in and out in a matter of moments. His hands were clutching Draco, who was breathing equally laboriously. 'I love you. I love you so much,' Draco was repeating in a low voice, as if talking to himself, but he was looking at Harry, and the gorgeous smile on Harry's face. Both were dazed, dreamy; Draco didn't know about Harry, but he himself certainly had reason to be.

Harry leaned in and kissed Draco. 'I know, Drake, so stop. I love you, too. Too much.' His heart hadn't relaxed. Not even one bit. Draco pulled the sleeves over Harry's arms and buttoned the shirt. A while later Harry helped Draco get into his own shirt.

After checking to see if there was anything wrong with their attire, they left the bathroom, fingers intertwined. 'You're okay?' Draco asked anxiously. Harry nodded. 'Never better,' he replied, but there was a slight change in his way of walking. Someone would notice if they looked at Harry really hard, and that was not too rare, seeing the piece of beauty that the boy was.

They reached the entrance to the dungeons, and halted. Draco turned to Harry, not wanting to leave. Harry was staring at him, and they held their gazes for minutes, which seemed like years; long gazes which promised a better future to each other, without Lord Voldemort's shadow looming over them. Their kisses, and other occurrences in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom suddenly were feeling more serious than ever, as if they held significances other than love and commitment; but Harry didn't know what significances.

Before Harry could say anything to break the silence, Draco said, 'You saw the Dark Mark on my arm.' It was true. Harry had noted it with more than a bit of pain, but hadn't commented. 'I was given an order … by the Dark Lord, to—'

'Kill Dumbledore.' The words slipped out of Harry's mouth without any thought beforehand. That was what he had been theorizing the entire year. Draco's eyes widened. 'Yeah.'

'Will you?' Harry asked, expression turning stony.

Draco immediately regretted telling the truth. He begged Harry to comprehend. 'He'll kill me, my parents, if I don't. Don't you understand?' There was a strange prickling at the corners of Draco's eyes, almost as if he was going to cry. He wouldn't. Malfoys don't cry. Malfoys don't break the hearts of their lovers immediately after confessing, too. 'My mum says it's a punishment, for Dad, because he failed the Dark Lord! He thinks I won't do it! He's going to kill me. Or did you stop caring now that you finally got fucked?'

'Are you crazy? I love you!' Harry laughed, albeit hollowly. 'I love you, Drake. I couldn't ever stop caring.'

'But I have to kill Dumbledore,' Draco whispered. Harry shook his head. 'No,' he replied. 'Not if we go to Dumbledore first, get your mum into the protection of the Order of the Phoenix. Your dad's safe enough at Azkaban.'

'But when?'

'Now. Right now.'

'Are you fucking crazy?'

'No, I'm fucking you. Are you coming?' Harry walked backward a few steps. Draco's eyes closed in anguish and utter disbelief, but he followed. Hands linked together again, followed by small reassuring smiles, and Draco Malfoy knew he would never regret the time he fell in love with Harry Potter at Madam Malkin's.