Sad Songs for Dirty Lovers

It's simple, really. I love J.K. Rowling, and I would never attempt to take any credit for her beautiful characters or stories. I'm just borrowing them, so please don't take offense.

Chapter 4: Something I Can Never Have

Approximately an hour later, he finally stood up and dusted himself off. Walking toward the dungeons, his brain was on overdrive.

How did I let this happen? He probably hates me even more now. Why do I care if he hates me? It's not like I want more than his body. But if that were true, I would be able to stop thinking about his eyes. They're like the ocean.

He stopped, running that last thought over in his mind. He made a face, admonishing himself.

And now I'm turning into a bloody Hufflepuff girl. Fantastic.

Draco spent the rest of his journey down to his dorm cursing Potter and his attractiveness and his bloody perfect lips.

There has got to be something the matter with me. I'm getting turned on just picturing his mouth. It's nothing. I just need to get him out of my head.

He sped up his pace. He definitely needed to fuck someone tonight. And that someone was going to be Blaise Zabini. He had become friends with Blaise over the last couple of years. Zabini was good-looking, smart, and extremely talented in bed. As a bonus, he never asked for more than Draco wanted to give. All in all, he made a great friend, with the occasional benefit. Growling the Slytherin password, Draco quickly passed through the common room and went straight on to the seventh year dorm, where Blaise was bound to be at this time of the day. He strode into the room and found Blaise furiously tearing things out of his trunk, apparently in a frustrated panic.

"What the bloody hell am I going to wear?! He'll be here any moment!"

Evidently, Blaise hadn't heard him come in. Snickering silently, he snuck up behind his unsuspecting dorm mate.

"But I'm already here, Blaise," he purred seductively.

Blaise yelped and jumped, turning on the spot.

"Malfoy, you bugger! You scared the shit out of me! I'm nervous enough as it is."

Just as quickly as he had jumped to face Draco, he turned around and frantically continued going through his clothes. He debated between two pairs of trousers, muttering something about crazy blondes.

He's right. I've never seen him this worked up before.

"You look tense, Blaise. Can I help you...work it out?" he leered suggestively.

"What? No, Draco. You must have heard me. I'm waiting for someone. He'll be here soon, so you might want to clear out for a while. I don't plan on spending very much time in these clothes, you know."

He yanked on the pair of pants he had chosen.

Draco pouted, feeling a bit put out.

"I thought you didn't date," he sulked.

"Oh, come on, darling. We always have a good bit of fun, but we knew it was never going to last. You and I just weren't meant to be. It's nothing personal."

Draco scowled.

"But you and this new fantasy boy are?"

Blaise smiled.

"I don't know. But he's not new, Draco. I've wanted him for years. I might actually make a go of this one," he said, turning to button his shirt, "and besides, Gryffindors can be really sexy."

Draco was starting to feel distinctly uneasy.

"Gryffindors?" he questioned, his voice cracking slightly.

Blaise started to throw his clothes back into his trunk.

"Ooh, yes, they're like fireballs in bed."

Draco shifted around uncomfortably as his somewhat aroused condition worsened marginally.

"Come on, Draco. Get out. You can come back in later. Maybe I'll let you watch part of the show, if you're lucky." He winked lecherously as a knock sounded on the door.

"Alright, that'll be Harry. How do I look?"

Draco was already staring at him.

"Harry?" he whispered, uncomprehendingly.

Blaise opened the door.

"Hullo, Harry," he greeted, smiling warmly.

"Alright, Blaise? You look great," was the reply.

"Potter?" Draco whispered as his jaw hit the floor.

"Ah. Hello, Malfoy."

Harry stepped into the room. He was wearing a green polo shirt that complimented his eyes and extremely fitted black trousers. He looked incredible.

"Draco was just leaving," Blaise said, shooting the Slytherin in question an irritated look.

"Yes, of course, Blaise. Potter."

He quickly stepped from the room, and Blaise shut the door behind him. Draco streaked through the common room, ignoring the curious stares of his fellow Housemates and ran down the corridor. He finally stopped and doubled over, gasping for breath. His eyes pricked disconcertingly, and he furiously tried to get himself under control.

Malfoys do not cry.

Malfoys do not cry over boys.

He stood up. There was only one place he could go when he needed to think this badly. Making up his mind, he switched directions and headed for the Astronomy Tower.