Forbidden

Chapter Two: Harry's Erotic Visions

Slender white hands were making their way up Harry's chest, rubbing the heels of his palms on his nipples, caressing the skin lovingly, and paying close attention to detail. The faintest trail of a smirk lingered on that pale face as he leaned in to kiss Harry's soft lips. It was like satin against his lips as they slid across the skin, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body. He arched his body against the body of the other boy, the kisses growing deeper...

It seemed so right.

"Oh, Draco," Harry mumbled, but then he felt Ginny move beside him and he was suddenly bolt upright in bed, no longer asleep. His skin, instead of his scar, was tingling, and he could pitch a tent with what was under his sheets. He was breathing heavily as he pushed the black hair off his forehead.

Ginny stirred. "Harry, are you all right?" she asked sleepily. Harry flushed crimson and stood up.

"Bad dream; I'm going to go take a quick shower to calm down," Harry improvised quickly, making a beeline for the shower.

He slipped behind the curtain and slipped the water onto cold, started it and felt the cold shock his system.

"What the hell?" he asked himself over the water, rubbing his forehead. Why would he be thinking of Malfoy, let alone getting down and dirty with him? He shook his head and doused his body in cold water, shutting his eyes to the icy sensation. But when he closed his eyes, that faintly smirking face with the burning stormy eyes stared back at him, lightly misted with lust. Where did he get this vision? Malfoy never looked at him like that, not once.

You'd probably have melted right in the halls, his mind taunted. He tried to shake the thought off while getting the water to soak thoroughly through his hair. He wouldn't let anyone know that he fancied Draco.

After all, he had been unhealthily obsessed with him for a good long six months at school, and even then he was getting weird looks whenever he'd talk about Malfoy.

He pulled himself out of the shower after thirty minutes of musings and attempting to get rid of a persistent erection, he went down the hallway of the Burrow to get something to eat.

On the way, he ran smack into Hermione, who was up, probably reading something or another.

"Oh, Hermione! Hi," Harry said, noting he was wrapped in only a towel and his erection hadn't slowed at all. Hermione arched an eyebrow and held back a giggle.

"Hi, Harry; rough night?" Hermione teased. Harry flushed.

"Well, yeah...I guess you could say that," Harry said in a small voice.

"Ginny still up?" she teased.

"Actually, she was asleep," Harry said in a low voice, his face growing redder and redder by the moment.

"So it was a dream type thing?" she asked, suddenly interested in his...difficulties.

"Yeah..."

"About who?" Hermione inquired.

"No one in particular," Harry lied.

"Am I really supposed to believe that, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I'm offended you won't confide in me!"

"You'd either laugh, or you'd want to rip my brains out for even thinking about it!" Harry shot fervently. Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Come on, you have to tell me now," Hermione pushed. Harry grew steadily redder as he glanced to the ground.

He mumbled something with a distinct "D" in front of it, and Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Harry, you know I hate guessing games," Hermione frowned. Harry still hadn't looked up from the ground, and he seemed as red as Ron when he was angry. Harry dared peek up through his eyelashes, and Hermione was shocked to see the redness of his face. "Is it really that embarrassing?" she asked slowly. Harry nodded, his lips going into a line, much like McGonagall's.

"Yeah, it really is," Harry said in a rather strangled voice. Hermione raised her eyebrows so high they practically disappeared into her hairline.

"Come on, Harry, this is me," Hermione pressed. "You can tell me..."

"No, I can't," he replied, "because I don't know what you'll do."

"It can't be that bad!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, it can." Harry gave a slight smirk and turned around, heading back to the room he and Ginny now shared, thanks to the upswing in their relationship, despite Harry's protests at the end of the school year. Harry hadn't been so keen to continue in the past couple of weeks, however, as he was increasingly distracted by rather erotic and disturbing dreams.

He walked into the room, and was met by a quizzical look on Ginny's face. Harry took a deep breath and stripped off the towel, slipping into a pair of boxers and laying beside Ginny.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Nothing, just another dream," Harry said, running a hand through damp hair and leaning back on the pillow.

"It really shook you, huh?" she asked. He nodded.

He nodded. "I'm okay, now though," he said, turning onto his side, away from Ginny, and fell into an uneasy sleep.