Cho Must Die a Horrible, Painful Death

Chapter Six: Deja' Vu

Professor Snape enjoyed springing surprise quizzes on his students, particularly when he was well aware that they didn't know the material very well.

"Today you will all be preparing a Gewichts Potion," Snape smiled dryly, "without the aid of your notes." The class groaned in unison. "As almost none of you managed to prepare the potion successfully the other week, your efforts in today's class will count towards twenty-five percent of your final grade. So let's hope you all can manage something slightly above abysmal."

Draco grinned to himself. This would be a piece of cake. Not only was he brilliant at Potions, but he also had a mind like a steel trap. And you don't exactly forget the potion that eats through all your clothing and leaves you standing half-naked in front of your peers.

Draco was doubly pleased with his choice of seating today. He'd decided on a desk just behind Potter's normal seat, though he couldn't quite admit to himself that this was to have better access to watching Potter. Nonetheless, it would now prove handy, as Draco could casually have a little accident with his Gewichts Potion. It was time for Potter to find himself in nothing but his boxer shorts.

As the students set to work and condensation began to fill the room, Draco took the time to observe Potter, whose hair soon began to hang in damp tendrils about his face and neck. If Draco didn't have such a hair fetish, he'd have dismissed Harry's disheveled locks as a pathetic mess, but his interest led him to closer study of Potter's hair. It looked. soft and touchable, well as much as damp curls could be. And though he was sure that Potter was too daft to use a moisturizing conditioning treatment once a week, somehow Potter still managed to keep it in good condition.

He wanted to touch it, to run his hands through Potter's locks and make him shiver. He wanted to weave his fingers through it and hold on for dear life as Potter sucked him dry. He wanted to catch a whiff of the fresh woodsy scent that reminded Draco of Gryffindor Tower as he licked and nibbled on his neck. The possibilities were endless.

He watched as Harry absentmindedly pushed a chunk of his hair back with the tip of his wand. In the process, he upset his glasses and they settled at a wonky angle. Why did Potter insist on wearing those ugly things? Surely by this point he (or that annoying Muggleborn Granger) knew a spell that would correct his vision. Hell, if the Muggles could come up with a way (something using laysurs?), he was sure Wizards could do one better. Anyhow, it would be nice to have an unobstructed view of Potter's eyes.

Well, at that point, Draco was quite keen to get an unobstructed view of several less visible portions of Potter's anatomy. He wished he'd take his robes off. At least then he could follow the trail of dewy hair down Potter's neckline and catch a glimpse of his slender slanting shoulders. All he needed was Potter topless, as his three favorite features of his were above the waist.
Draco continued his study of Harry Potter as the minutes wore away. The class became increasingly warm again as the potions neared completion and Draco squirmed slightly in his seat, adjusting to the pressure of his growing erection. Damn it - why did Potter have to get so sweaty? It reminded him of things that got you sweaty - Quidditch, dueling, rampant wild sex - Draco's three favorite activities.

Five minutes before the conclusion of class, Draco separated a sample of his potion into a stopper for grading. This would be fun. With a swift movement of his hands, Draco 'accidentally' knocked his cauldron over and its contents poured over Harry Potter.

"Whoops!" Draco exclaimed nonchalantly, weakly concealing his pleasure as Harry jumped from his seat and wiggled around in shock and frustration. He was so frazzled that he didn't think to grab at his wand to stop the eating away of his robes. Hmmm. lovely. Potter's clothes melted away quite nicely.

Professor Snape, though he rolled his eyes in annoyance, didn't make a move to rid Potter of the effects of the potion. Despite his pleasure, Draco decided it was a bad idea to allow *all* of Harry's assets to become visible to the class, so he performed an Evanesco before the concoction could leave him without the protection of his boxer shorts. Which, Draco noticed, were green. The color matched nicely with his dark hair and eyes. He reckoned Potter would go even better with Draco's green satin sheets.

"God, Potter. Yuck. Too much information," Draco grinned slyly, indicating Potter's poor state of dress and hoping his disdain was convincing. "I always knew you had a thing for Slytherin, but *really*."

Harry blushed and tried to cover himself up. Draco didn't mind; it drew more attention to his upper arms and torso.

Snickers of amusement echoed throughout the dank room and several of the young women made a serious effort to crane their necks in Harry's direction as they put away their ingredients. They very bloody well had better have looked at him like that, Draco thought. He was just as desirable as Potter, if not more so. But there was always that bloody 'The Boy Who Lived' crap. He was a revered hero, so therefore he was *so* sexy!

Bints wouldn't even look twice at him if it weren't for his hero status. He was nothing more than a nerd - a scruffy, piddling, nervous wreck - who also happened to be inexplicably sexy.

Suddenly, Draco hated all those simpering twits. They had no idea who Harry Potter really was. But Draco knew: Harry Potter was a rogue in disguise. There was darkness in him, and Draco was determined to seek it out, and to conquer him. He was attracted to the conquest, to the challenge. And this was his first move.

Harry had now turned a brilliant shade of red. He kept scanning the room desperately, looking for something with which to cover himself. Draco also noted that Harry avoided his gaze like the plague.
After several minutes, class ended and Harry looked torn between fleeing the room and streaking through the hallways and standing there in front of his worst enemy and most hated Professor. He chose the latter.

"Malfoy! How could you. I." Harry stuttered.

"Get out of my classroom, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, speaking for the first time since Draco spilt his potion. "I do not wish to endure your indecency any longer." He motioned with his wand towards the door, obviously expecting Harry to file out, in spite of his current state.

Harry stared agape and Snape and the door. He refused to budge.

"Give me your robes, Malfoy," he finally managed.

"Excuse me?" Draco responded indignantly. "I have no intention of joining in your little orgy, Potter."

"Orgy!" Harry exclaimed incredulously, "You spilled your bloody potion all over me!"

"An accident," Draco shrugged his shoulders and smiled innocently.

"Accident my arse," Harry retorted.

"Hmm, yes. Your arse," Draco mused, "not very attractive, is it?"

Harry started silently and moved towards Draco, gripping his robe and yanking. "Give it here, Malfoy!"

"No," Draco responded curtly. "I'll do no such thing."

He was enjoying this. Not only did he get to see Potter very exposed, but he was working himself up into an absolute tizzy. Mission accomplished.

Harry nearly ripped Draco's robes as he gave another tug. Draco could see the anger and desperation in his eyes. Potter obviously did not relish being half-naked. Pity, really.

"Wow, *Harry*," Draco stressed his name, "I had no idea you were so keen to undress me."

Harry colored even deeper, it that was possible.

With a toss of his hand, Draco relinquished and pulled off his robes. "If you want them so much, Potter," Draco tossed them to Harry. "Here you go. Now don't go doing anything naughty with them, I'd like them returned to me *spot free*."

Harry's mouth flapped wordlessly and he simply nodded. Draco could have sworn he saw the beginnings of a hard-on as Harry threw the robes over his head, but he doubted it. Boy Wonder was too much of a prude to get his rocks off on this. He'd probably never even heard of blokes snogging each other, so Draco reckoned his witty sexual innuendo was lost on him.

Like Potter would wank off with Draco's robes, anyway. He probably thought of fluffy bunnies and sunshine and daffodils when he did it. *If* he did it at all. Potter seemed pretty sexually inept in general, so it wouldn't surprise Draco in the least if he had no bloody clue.

Draco sniggered and sauntered out the room. He lost sight of Potter as he rounded the corner, but he was sure Potter remained a bright shade of red for at least the next few hours. Bloody brilliant.

**

As much as Draco loved Quidditch, he wasn't exactly keen on the state of the showers. Sure, they were great for watching other people shower, but he himself wouldn't stoop to. communal bathing. Therefore, he was quite glad to have the Prefects Bathroom at his disposal. Being a Prefect may involve a bit more goody-two-shoes behavior than he would have liked, but the bathroom was the perk that made it all worthwhile.

That afternoon, drenched in sweat (though Draco insisted that he 'glistened') and still high from the delightful spectacle in Potions, Draco made his way to the prefects' bathroom, intent upon a long, hot bath.

When he arrived, a murky mist of steam hung in the room and Draco immediately felt the need to remove his robes. He moved to the far right corner and began to remove the components of his uniform. Only after he had removed all his clothes save his trousers, did he notice that he wasn't alone. At least he didn't think he was - cause who would leave an ugly pair of glasses lying about?

Ugly glasses. Shit - Potter.

Draco crept towards the edge of the pool, careful to stay covered in steam and shadows. Yep, there was Potter, lounging in a mass of bright green foam. He must have been underwater when Draco came in, because he'd given no notice of company. And now he had no clue, as Draco was very quiet and Potter was sitting there with his eyes closed.

Equally as quiet, Draco returned to his clothing and pondered how quickly he could get dressed without drawing attention to himself. Then he went from bewilderment to anger - what the fuck was Potter doing in his bathroom? He wasn't a Prefect; that was for damn sure. Bet the bloody weasel gave him the password. Bastard. Well, why should he leave if this was his bathroom? Potter should be the one to go.

Resolved, Draco turned back to Potter and prepared to stalk over, but then he was struck by the image of a very naked Harry Potter lounging in a cloud of green. Or he could stay here and observe. After all, Potter was quite fetching in green. Draco smirked - he knew the bastard always had a secret Slytherin fetish.
Draco found a perch in the darkest corner of the room and sat watching Harry Potter. He had a rather nice view, as he was positioned slightly above the bath and could look down on the relaxed figure. He was doubly as pleased when time and heat began to eat away at the foam, and the green shroud surrounding Harry's intimate parts dissipated.

Well, well, well Potter! Apparently your hero complex isn't overcompensating for. other things. You'd think that with shrinkage the picture would be a little less complimentary. Harry slipped his hand under the water.

That explains it. Come hell or high water, Potter was hard despite the heat. Draco observed as Harry began to do something Draco had never thought he would. Guess the Boy Wonder does wank off, Draco thought. Though he doesn't seem to be very good at it. He's so. tame. I wonder what he's thinking about.

"Mmmmmnnnn, Malfoy."

Excuse me? Did he just say.

"Oh, yeah - like that Draco!"

Well, I'll be damned - Boy Wonder's gay. And he has a thing for me. Fucking, poetically, beautiful. Hmmm, apparently just thinking about me improves Potter's sexual technique. He's doing much better now. Yes, I am a sex God. Draco grinned to himself.

Harry threw his head back against the edge of the tub and began stroking himself. His eyes were screwed shut and his tongue was poking out of his mouth whilst he panted in a steady rhythm.

"Fuck me, Malfoy!" Harry gasped.

Fuck him? Did Potter even know how that worked? Draco couldn't dwell on it long, as hearing the words 'fuck me Malfoy' made him instantly hard. He cursed silently as he strained painfully against his Quidditch trousers. They were really made of the wrong material for erections.

Potter should really hurry up. If he didn't stop soon, Draco would be forced to discard his pants and set to work on himself, right then and there. Although, it was rather comforting that he seemed to have more stamina than the average teenage male. At least if he ever wanted to fuck around with Potter, he'd be guaranteed a good time, without inconvenient duration problems. That was one nice thing about girls - it took a lot longer to wind them up, and by the time they were ready, so was Draco.

His impatient prayers were answered, and Harry finished. Draco hoped the tub had a drain. And that the house elf who cleaned it used some strong disinfectant.
As Draco watched Harry go limp, panting, he realized that he himself was short of breath. He certainly had never imagined that kind of show would ever take place. This was Harry fucking Potter, for Christ's sake. Like he would ever wank off screaming his name. But, unless he was hallucinating (not possible - Malfoys had 'solid constitutions'), that was precisely what he had just seen.

Harry brought himself out of his exhausted repose and glanced around warily. Shit - did he know he was there? Harry broke out into a goofy grin and closed his eyes again. Perhaps not.

Harry hugged his upper torso and began to lightly trail his fingertips along his damp skin. He visibly shivered and Draco couldn't help but shiver himself.

After a few minutes, Harry Potter and his amazing torso climbed out of the bathtub. Well, Draco thought, now was as good a time as any to snog the hell out of Potter. Especially as he was still delightfully unclothed, except for the towel that he had draped loosely about his hips.

Draco leapt down from his seat with the agility of a cat stalking its prey. As his feet hit the marble floor, Harry was alerted to his presence for the first time since Draco's arrival.

"Malfoy!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "What the fuck are you."

Draco cut him off with his lips. He placed one hand on Harry's hip, and the other at the small of his back, and worked his fingers at the hem of the towel. Harry found himself simultaneously naked and on the receiving end of Draco's demanding tongue.

End Chapter Six