Metamorous

Chapter 10 - A Tale of Two Showers

"The Cannons? You support the Chudley Cannons!?"

Draco looks insulted. "Of course I do. My great-grandfather was on that team!"

Hermione and I are barely holding in our laughter. Ron looks as though he's been struck by lightning.

"Who was your grandfather?"

"Kelsey Devore."

"The Kelsey Devore?"

"That's what they tell me."

"I used to root for Spain," Ron confides hesitantly. "But since they traded Burnham - "

"I know!" Draco interrupts. "Was that not the dumbest thing they could have done? Bloody idiots."

"Sure, they got Anderson and Inge, but next to Burnham that's nothing!"

"I completely agree. They'll be killed off before they get anywhere near the finals."

"Iceland actually has a chance this year, don't you think?"

"Not really. Bulgaria's still at the top of their game."

"And Japan's the power in Asia, but I don't think she'd hold up over here..."

"What about India? Speedy little buggers. Beaters are fantastic!" They chatter on, oblivious Hermione and me.

"Told you," I whisper to her. "If they were anymore alike, Draco would start sprouting freckles."

"There's an image for you."

I shrug. So far, so good. I feel a little like I'm in an alternate universe, but if it is it's a good one. Draco and Ron can stand to be around each other if the topic happens to be Quidditch or school. Mostly Quidditch.

All is semi-right within my world. Everything rests in a semi-easy balance, my friends are semi-okay with Draco and Draco's semi-okay with them. So I'm basically waiting for the other shoe to drop. And there's still the fact that I'm pining away from my unrequited love of Draco, but hey. Working on that as well.

"Hey guys, don't you think we should be going?"

Both Ron and Draco turn to stare blankly at Hermione.

"Why?"

I sigh. "The game's in about a half an hour. And I, personally, want to warm up."

"Half an hour?"

"It's that late?"

I stand and laugh, stretching as I go. "Yes, it's that late. Let's go."

~~~~~~~

Madame Hooch steps into the center. All the players circle around her head, waiting for the whistle. I drop down so I'm hovering next to Harry.

"Kiss for good luck?"

He smirks. "If you think you need it."

I snort. "Fine then, asshole. No kiss for you." I'll get him later.

Before I fly away I'm pretty sure he winks. Maybe it was just the light.

~~~~~~~

Should be paying more attention to the game than Draco. But quite frankly, Draco is far more interesting. I haven't seen the Snitch once. Not really sure what the score is but it doesn't exactly matter. I doubt Slytherin is so far ahead that if I catch the Snitch they'd still win.

Hmm. Draco's flying upside down again. Are you asking to fall and break something? Idiot.

A particularly strong gust of wind breezes past me and I shiver. Cold. We don't usually have games in December, but since we have no snow and the weather is pretty mild we've just been going ahead with them. I circle the pitch lazily. I'm still getting the Snitch, Draco or no.

~~~~~~~

Bollocks. Gryffindor wins again, and by two hundred and fifty points to boot. Which means they're well ahead of us in the House competition as well. Grr. Stupid Gryffindors.

Well. Not really. Stupid Gryffindor House. There. I'm not mad that Harry caught the Snitch. That was bloody brilliant. Dove right in for it and caught it one-handed. Can't grudge him that. Still would have liked to catch it myself though. Beaten Gryffindor for once. Double grr.

"Hey Draco, you coming?" The last of my team mates have all ready left the changing rooms while I'm still standing here with all my clothes on.

"Yeah," I yell back absently. "Be right out." I throw my Quidditch robe into the corner. I will admit (though not where Granger can hear me) that I love house elves. I'm lazy, and sloppy, so I'll admit it. I love the goofy little things. Can't get along without them. So when I hear a noise behind me I assume it is a house elf. It's rather a surprise to find out it's Harry.

He raises his eyebrows when I jump, setting his clothes down (rather neatly, damn him) on a nearby bench. "What was that all about?"

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Maybe," he answers mischievously.

"What are you doing here, anyway?" In the Slytherin locker room no less?

~~~~~~

"Well," I drawl. "I thought I'd console you over your loss."

Draco raises an eyebrow. "What if I had won?"

"Like that was going to happen," I shoot back cheekily. Then I shrug. "To be truthful, if you won it was going to be congratulatory sex. Either way, you get a good deal."

"Naked Harry's always a good deal." He takes another step towards me.

"Not just naked Harry," I inform him, one hand reaching out to trail over his stomach. "Naked Harry who promises to do whatever you want."

~~~~~~~

And it was right about then that all the blood in my body pooled just below my stomach. All of it. Seriously. Harry standing there with only his pants on, eyes half lidded and voice lowered, telling me he'll do anything. Let's see you keep your cool if that ever happens.

A bit of a smirk appears on his face. "I take it you like the idea?" Hell yes!

"Anything?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Barring small children and animals, yes." The corner of his mouth quirks upward. On impulse I kiss it, that small corner. He jerks back in surprise but I grab onto his arm.

"Just... hold still for a moment," I whisper. "Don't do anything unless I tell you, all right?"

He nods mutely.

Good. My turn to touch him now. I trail my hands lightly over his face, tracing the lines along his cheekbones and chin, his lower lip. His eyes widen suddenly, and then his lids sink back down and he stares from under sooty lashes. I reach around and take out the tie holding back his hair. He shouldn't pull it back anymore than he has to. It falls around his shoulders, a silken black cloud. A little half-sigh escapes my lips. Beautiful. And mine, for now at least. I should enjoy him as much as I can, while I can, but for now I just want to look a little.

He's sculpted, beautifully so. Finely muscled and lithe. He is a Seeker, after all. A few scars mar his body, a mix of run-ins with Voldemort and childhood accidents. Childhood beatings. I run my fingers lightly over these, tracing the one that runs down his side and onto his hip last. Helping him out of his pants as I kiss him. The arousal dilating his eyes is unmistakable.

This is power, yeah, but not the way he meant to give it to me. I love how he trusts me to touch him like this, trust that he can be perfectly safe with promising me anything.

I trace my fingers lightly down his chest to his bellybutton, following the sparse hairs downward.

"Draco..."

I smile. He speaks!

"Did I say you could talk?"

He shakes his head, harsh breaths echoing in the empty room. I stroke a little faster. A breathless gasp. Oh, just gorgeous. I kiss him again, placing my hands on his back and pushing him against me. His spine curves in towards me, hands fisting at his sides.

"Touch me."

"Where?"

"Anywhere." Anywhere, anytime, however you like. I'm yours.

~~~~~~~

The way Draco was looking at me a moment ago. Like he wanted to swallow me whole. Scary. Amazing. I've never had anyone look at me like that. Like I was the only thing in the world. And this whole idea was kind of funny. I mean, it was just something I thought would be fun. And it's weird because I don't like when Draco orders me around, but now that I've told him he can it feels bloody brilliant.

~~~~~~~

Let's put these showers to use, eh? Good thing I left them running. Even better that the hot water never runs out.

I back up and pull Harry along with me. Of course, being the creature of grace that I am, I slip and fall. And end up on my knees. Now there's heaven-sent inspiration for you, with a few minor bodily adjustments. I place my hands on Harry's thighs and stroke gently, warm breath causing goosebumps to appear on all ready sensitized flesh.

"Draco," he gasps. "You don't..."

I reach up and place a finger on his lips. "What I want, remember? And I want to do this." I want to feel him tremble and know it's because of me. I want him to cry out my name when he comes. I want to see that dazed look in his eyes, see that sweet agony on his face and know I caused it.

~~~~~~~

I'm addicted beyond recovery to him. His taste, his smell, his mouth, his hands. What he does to me and what I do to him. There's no going back.

My hands tangle in his hair and my breathing grows more ragged and uneven. Don't know how I can manage to think at a time like this, but since I'm thinking about Draco, I suppose that it makes sense. His body is so perfect, so perfect and pale. Unmarred by scars or marks; no telltale signs of what he's gone through. It's lends him an air of innocence. Makes him seems untouchable. I don't know how he can pull that off at times like this, but somehow he does. The things we do are anything but innocent.

~~~~~~~

"Why are we on the floor?"

"My knees gave out."

"Good enough reason as any."

We sit - well, lie actually - we lie in silence for a few moments more, until Harry finds the energy to protest.

"We should move before we drown."

"Do we have to?" I whine before dragging himself farther on top of him. He sighs, but I don't think it's because he's annoyed with me. I don't think he really wants to move either.

"Oh. You're missing your party, aren't you?" Oops. Forgot about that. Does he still want to go?

"Yeah. Doesn't matter though. This beats butterbeer any day."

I begin to chuckle. "Better than butterbeer, eh?"

"Yeah. You now officially rank higher than butterbeer."

"Good to know."

~~~~~~~

"Argh! You're such an ass!"

"That's nice."

"Just help me! Please?"

Potions homework again. It starts to make sense when suddenly it doesn't anymore. Just when I think I've got everything down, I learn there's an exception to the rule. For instance, if you add balrog toenails to toad scum you get one of the bases for more complex sleeping potions. If you stir toad scum into balrog toenails you get an explosion. A rather large explosion. This is just not my subject.

"You're really having that much trouble?" Draco looks at me over the edge of his transfiguration book. He finished his potions work a long time ago.

"Yes!" I wail. What do you want from me, blood?

"All right." He gets up and makes a little motion for me to move over so we can share the chair. "Here's what you have to do. It's an invisibility potion, right?"

"Right." That much I have figured out, thanks.

"So you need to figure out a couple of things. First, what ingredients are responsible for causing the invisibility? Second, how is the invisibility applied? Through the blood stream as a potion, or directly to the skin as a salve? Third, you need a base to put everything in. You write down every possible thing it could be, cross-reference them to see if they're incompatible, and what you're left with should be the basic formula. Of course then you need to figure out the exact amount of each ingredient..."

My head is spinning. And for once I don't think it's the potions work.

I'm in a room. A small room. Well-lit. I'm sitting in a chair. Lucius stands before me, head bent in submission. I am angry tonight, very angry, for reasons I do not understand. Maybe because no torture has gone on lately, or because so many Muggles still walk this earth, or maybe because the Ministry has taken so many of my own. Maybe I am just an angry man. The thought has occurred to me before.

"My Lord."

"Lucius," I hiss, enjoying the small tremor that runs through him. He hides it; they all try to. But they are afraid. "Lucius, you have done well." He almost visibly shrinks with relief. Hmm. Does he have something to be afraid of? Is he... hiding something?

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Is there nothing else you wish to tell me?"

"Nothing, my Lord. The Potter boy falls further and further under Draco's influence every day. He will be yours."

"Good." Beyond good. Soon all I have hoped for will come to pass. "Draco, no doubt, will want his initiation soon after."

"Of course, my Lord. He will be a faithful addition to your legion."

"I hope so." For his sake. And yours. Lucius has already turned to leave, thinking himself dismissed. "And Lucius?"

He stiffens and turns. "Yes, my Lord?"

"I trust that next time you will tell me everything?"

He bows his head again, his body arranged in a perfect position of compliance. "Yes, my Lord."

I will let him go without punishment this time. He is, after all, my right hand. But next time even I will not be lenient. There will be no more traitors among the Death Eaters. Certainly not -

"Lucius," I gasp, only it isn't Lucius' face swimming before mine. It's Draco's. "Draco?"

"Harry? What's wrong? Are you all right?" He's kneeling over me, and I realize I've fallen from my chair to the floor. I wince as I reach up and touch my head. Yes... most definitely fell from the chair to the floor...

~~~~~~~

What the hell? What the hell is going on?

"I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey."

"No!" Harry grabs for my arm. Damn Seeker reflexes. "Just... help me up, will you?" Can't leave him by himself. I pull him up and he attempts to walk. Emphasis on 'attempts'. He ends up on the floor again.

"C'mon. Let's get you to the bed." When I pull him up this time I'm sure to keep a tight hold.

"I... I can't. I've got to go see Dumbledore."

"You can barely stand." You can't stand. "I'll go see him. You're sure you don't want Madame Pomfrey?"

"No. Nothing she can do." He sits on the edge of the bed and flops backwards, completely exhausted. "Just tell Dumbledore... I saw through him again."

The hair on the back of my neck stands up. "Saw through who?"

"Voldemort."

"A-all right." I am so getting the whole story later.

"Good." He curls up onto his side.

"You'll be all right by yourself?"

"Mhmm. Just tired..."

"Go to sleep then."

" 'kay." He sighs drowsily and his eyes flutter closed.

I think he's all ready there. Well. Best be getting off to Dumbledore's, shouldn't I? I reach for the blanket that's tangled at the foot of the bed and throw it over him. When he sleeps he looks so... he doesn't look innocent. Not childlike innocent. You know how when most people sleep they seem younger? Like all their troubles fade away? Harry's the opposite. He seems older and more troubled when he sleeps. Like life is nothing compared to what haunts him by night.

Oh fuck. I just...

With one last look at him over my shoulder, I head towards Dumbledore's office.

~~~~~~~

It's night. A beautiful time. A dangerous time. A time for the hunters and the hunted. I've never been the latter, and I don't intend to be.

I walk quietly down the hall. A simple 'Silencio' spell woven into your shoes and clothes and you won't make a sound. Almost as good as being invisible. There's much fun to be had when no one thinks you're around.

Oh, but he's beautiful. An angel fallen from heaven. There's no doubt Draco has deflowered him by now. He's a tarnished angel really, and I want to finish the job. I want to cut off his wings, make him a true fallen angel. I will make him mine.

He stirs in his sleep. Curled up into the pillow, blanket thrown carelessly over his legs. I push off his robe, stopping to cup his face in my hand. He leans into me. Must think it's Draco, poor fool. I smirk. Beautiful fool. As I reach under his shirt he begins to wake. I climb onto of the bed and straddle him, pulling his hands above his head and holding onto his wrists. His eyes pop open, a haze of confusion and sleep clouding them over. Once the daze begins to clear the real fun begins. He hisses out my name and bucks under me, trying to throw me off. He tries to free his wrists, tries to reach for his wand. Futility. He is mine. He is weak.

I will have him. I will see tears slide down his face and I will taste them. Tears of pain, tears of humiliation, tears of poisonous anger. I will sample of them all. It makes no difference that Draco does not wish to share him. He should know better than to deny me what I want. Harry should know better than to resist. Of course, in the beginning the resisting is part of the fun.

He still struggles. I punch him across the face. He gasps in shock and pain and I again grab hold of him. Did you not understand my intentions? Stop struggling. If you do it won't... well, I imagine it will hurt less.

~~~~~~~

I've said it before and I've no doubt I'll say it again. Dumbledore is odd. I told him what Harry saw and the only thing he did was nod, ask me if Harry was all right, and hand me a lemon drop. What is up with him? Seriously weird.

What did Harry mean by seeing through Voldemort? That has possibilities I don't really want to think about. I mean, there were rumors, and Father made an offhand comment a time or two but I don't... I don't know. I'll ask him later. When he's better.

By the time I reach the common room I feel like climbing into the bed right next to Harry. What is it with this castle? The place is so ruddy huge it takes you at least ten minutes to get much of anywhere. Once I reach the door to my room I hear an odd noise. Sort of a strangled cry. Is Harry having a nightmare? Shit. I throw open the door, hinges protesting loudly. And... and Harry's not sleeping, but it's a nightmare either way. He's struggling on the bed, robes ripped and clothes torn. A bruise on his face and Blaise sitting on top of him.

"Contracorpus!"

I don't even think. I don't have to. He's hurting Harry. I'm going to hurt him.

Blaise flies off Harry and slams into the bedstand with a satisfying crack. But not satisfying enough.

I use every hex I can think of. Every legal one anyway. Maybe even a few that aren't. I can't think. I just use whatever comes to mind. Hexes to choke the air in his lungs, to cover him with bruises and boils and cuts, to throw him around like a rag doll. I can see him fumbling for his wand but he doesn't stand a chance. There's no way to even describe what is running through my head right now. Every single alter ego in my head is, for once, in complete agreement. Hurt Blaise. Help Harry. There's so much... there's so much anger. Anger and adrenaline.

"Stupefy!"

Blaise stiffens and falls onto his side awkwardly. He's not going anywhere.

~~~~~~~

Draco's beating the shit out of Blaise. Can't bring myself to care. I hate him. Hate him, hate him, hate him. Hate him for almost doing what he tried to do. I hate him for even trying. I hate him for showing me how fucking weak I am.

You know what it feels like being completely, totally, fucking useless? To know what's going to happen to you and not be able to do a thing about it?

A small sound escapes from under my folded arms. A sob I didn't know I was holding back. I feel a slight pressure on my shoulder but I don't jump. I don't even move. I know it's Draco.

~~~~~~~

Harry stares up at me and his eyes are slightly red. He looks like he's holding way too much in. Has to be. He was almost... he was almost fucking raped. And just that quickly my anger starts to pick back up again. Fight it down, fight it back, Draco. No matter what Blaise was doing, killing him will still land you in Azkaban. As it is he'll probably run to someone with a bullshit story and get me in trouble.

I reach out to gently touch Harry's bruised cheek. It's far worse than the one he got from the Bludger. This one is all ready an angry purple, almost brown it's so dark. Plysis won't work on it. I can't heal him. Can't fucking help him with anything, it seems. Somehow I've got to convince him to go to Madame Pomfrey's.

Blaise is still sprawled on the floor. I can see him out of the corner of my eye and I want to hurt him some more. There seems to be no end to the violence that's going on in this room tonight, and I know it's not fair to attack an unconscious person but I might anyway. At least one more well placed kick to the ribs.

Clearing his throat, Harry holds the edge of his robe to his lip and dabs. "I guess... I guess it's still bleeding, huh?"

"Yeah." My throat goes dry. "It is." He looks like he did after Potions class that day. Eyes wide and lips red, only this time it's his blood, and it isn't there by choice. So I think it's time to return the favor. I push him back onto the pillows.

"Draco, I thought you said - "

"Forget what I said." Forget everything I said. Forget every insult, every slight, every time I said this was bullshit. Forget Blaise and what he just did. Forget that he's lying unconscious in the corner. Well, if you want you can remember he's lying unconscious and very bloodied, but forget exactly why. Oh hell. Just... don't think. At all. I lap at his lip delicately. Salty. Warm. Bitter. And at the same time very, very sweet.

He gasps.

I draw back instantly, a little ashamed. "Sorry. Did it hurt?" Bad Draco. Don't give in to those impulses.

"No." He blushes. "Felt good." Oh. Fine then. Give in to the damn impulses. Another drop of blood wells on his lip and I lean down to suck on it, gently pulling off the clothes Blaise didn't manage to rip. "C'mon. Let's get you into the shower."

"A-all right."

~~~~~~~

You'd think after what Blaise tried I wouldn't want anyone around me. I don't want people to see me like that. People don't want to see me like that. How can I save the world if I can't save myself?

But Draco... Draco's different. He always has been. He's an exception to the rule and as much as I hate him seeing me like this, I want him here. Here taking care of me. And when he... oh god, I don't know. After what Blaise just did I feel like either breaking something, crying for a couple of hours, or fucking Draco till we're both senseless. I want...I want Draco on me, not Blaise. Want to see the scratches on my arms and think 'Draco'. See the bitemark on my neck and think 'Draco'. Smell like Draco, taste Draco on my tongue, just...I don't want to be reminded of Blaise. I can't stand it. I can't. The whole inside of me head is screaming and there's nothing that's going to shut it up.

And all the while I keep scrubbing away at my arms. Washing and scrubbing and washing and scrubbing until my arms are totally red and I can't tell where Blaise was and wasn't. The water's steaming hot and I wish that it could somehow wash everything away.

~~~~~~~

I'm half hard right now, and I shouldn't be. Sure Harry's naked and in the shower (and that certainly seems like a reason to be excited, ne?) but he's hurt. Hurt and vulnerable and probably more scared than he wants to admit. I am an asshole. I mean... not when he's like this. For fuck's sake. Beaten and bruised and miserable. He washes himself carefully, meticulously. Getting rid of all traces of Blaise. Can't say I blame him. When he's done he turns to me blindly and cries on my shoulder. Or maybe that's water from the shower and he's shaking with laughter. Yeah, right.

"Fuck." I sigh. "You want me to go make sure I broke his nose?"

Harry chuckles weakly, the sound caught in the middle of a sob. "I'm pretty sure you broke it."

"Still. I could make sure." He shakes his head and steps back away from me. "Feel better?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go get you some clothes."

~~~~~~~

Madame Pomfrey is an angel. She looked at Harry, looked at me, and fixed him up without a word. Not that she won't hunt me down later and drag it out of me, but she didn't make Harry explain, and for that I'm grateful.

"You tired?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to walk you back to your room?"

A smile flutters over his face. "I doubt Blaise is waiting to ambush me somewhere."

"I truthfully don't think he'll be doing much of anything anytime soon." We just sort of left him in my room. If need be, I'll kick him out into the hall. Literally. I sneak a sideways look at Harry. "You sure you're all right?"

"I think I'll be okay." He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm just going to go sleep. The seeing... and everything... wore me out."

"All right." I trace where the bruise had been a few minutes before. Now perfect, unmarked skin. My other hand clenches into a tight fist. Let's keep it that way.

~~~~~~~

"You're sure - "

"Actually can I... can I just... stay in your room?" I mean, I've never actually just stayed there, you know? If I fall asleep there afterwards, but I've never just slept. So, I mean, it's kind of...

"Yeah." Oh.

"Tha - "

"Don't."

I... all right.

~~~~~~~

"What are you doing?"

Harry's all ready in bed, even though it's not even past dinnertime. He's barely keeping his eyes open as it is, but he wants to know what has me scrambling for a quill and parchment like a man possessed.

"The way I see it, we've got two main options. Tell Dumbledore what happened and get Blaise kicked out. Or," I stress. "I send a rather lengthy letter to Father about how Blaise almost jeopardized my whole mission and he gets a pissed off Death Eater, and perhaps even a pissed off Voldemort."

"Oh. That's..."

"Evil?"

"Yes. Exactly."

"I was going with plan two."

He's silent for a long moment. "Is... I mean... I..."

"I don't think this is one of those 'turn the other cheek' occasions."

He doesn't bother to protest.

"Now go to sleep all ready."

"Yes, Warden."

"Want me to tell Weasley where you are?"

"Yes. Thanks."

"No problem."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wow. That's probably the creepiest thing I've ever heard."

"Welcome to my childhood."

"No, really. I couldn't have handled it. I... I'm kind of claustrophobic."

"Kind of?"

"Well, really claustrophobic. Like can't breathe claustrophobic."

"That must suck."

"Certainly makes trips uncomfortable. Any room much smaller than this and I start to get freaked out."

"Why? I mean, bad experience, or just..."

"I just do. I don't know why. Seriously though... they actually locked you in a closet under the stairs?"

"Uh huh. Every day up until I was eleven, and on and off from then on. When I was bad, into the cupboard I went."

"Cupboard?"

"That's what I called it. It isn't much bigger than that."

Shudder. "I definitely could not have handled that."

"Luckily it didn't bug me."

"Very luckily."

"So what about you?"

"Not much to tell, to be truthful. Summer trips to France, winter trips to Romania..."

"Romania?"

"Yup. The resort part, not near the dragon habitats."

"Ron's older brother works there."

"Which one?"

"Draco..."

"I wasn't being sarcastic! Which one?"

"Oh. Sorry. Uh, Charlie."

"The one who played Quidditch?"

"Mhmm. So what else?"

"Whatever my cold little heart desired. Toys, brooms, playmates. When I got older, the creepier my house seemed though."

"Creepy?"

"Yeah. I mean, everywhere you go there's a house elf watching you! Tell me seeing those glowing eyes pop out at you from all over the place is not creepy. And I couldn't even go in half of the rooms because of the shielding spells on them. Dark shielding spells. Mum was always throwing a party or visiting someone or another, and Father was away on business or business. I know they loved me, but they were never there. The poor little rich boy story."

"It does sound kind of on the shitty side."

"Yeah well, live, learn, be a better parent yourself."

"You want kids?"

"Isn't that funny? I always did like kids. Go figure, right?"

"Frankly, small children scare me."

Snort.

"No! I'm being honest here! I've never really been around anyone under eleven. No babies, no kids, no nothing. I don't know the first thing about them."

"For Mordred's sake, Harry, didn't you get that talk yet?" Sigh. "First, you need a man and a woman..."

"Draco! You git! I know that!"

"Aww, you're blushing. It's so cute."

"Cute. Ick."

"I can't win with you, can I? Fine then. Lemme try this again. Aww, you're blushing. It's so incredibly gorgeous."

"Better."

"Thank you."

Kissing noise.

"So you don't want kids?"

"I didn't say that. I just don't know, I guess."

"Hmm."

"Well, what are you doing when you get out of school? I don't think I ever asked."

"I don't know. I was supposed to be a Death Eater, obviously, and play at having a job in the Ministry... but now, when I actually have a choice... I don't know. Really. I have thought about it a little bit though. Quidditch, maybe."

"That's what I was thinking."

"We could make it. I'm good. You're better."

"Draco..."

"Hey, you know it's true. But I am second best and don't you ever forget it."

"Second place is really just first loser." Cheeky smile.

"Now I'm hurt."

"Sawwy. Pwease don be angwy..."

"Now that was cute."

"Thank you."

"So now it's fine to call you cute, but it wasn't before?"

"Different situations."

"I'm thinking double standards."

"Hmmm."

Kissing noise.

"What were we doing before we started all this?"

"Ummm.... good question."

"Well, if you can't remember, it can't have been terribly important."

More kissing noises. Robe rustling.

"This is pretty high on my priority list right now."

"Mhmm."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Colin just snapped another picture of us."

Slight pause.

"Do you want to curse him or shall I?"

"I'll get him, you get the film." Quick smile. "Then we'll pick up where we left off."

"Sounds like a plan."

~~~~~~~

What is wrong with you today?

Nothing.

You're a horrible liar. Even on paper.

I know.

So what's wrong?

Nothing.

Harry, don't make me rip it out of you. Ve haf vays ov making you talk.

I bet you do.

That sounded like a challenge.

It was.

Too bad. I will not be distracted. What's wrong?

Damn. I was sure that would work.

You're dodging. What's wrong?

I... I'm just feeling down today. I don't know why.

Hmmm... Male PMS... sounds serious. OMG! Maybe you're pregnant!

Wonder who the father is? J/K

You better be just kidding!

Someone here's a little territorial.

Well, someone here can get a little grabby.

Grabby?

;/';/*;/'/*;/'*;/'*/;*'/*;/'*/;*/ Jesus Harry. You know how close Snape came to seeing that?! I just spilt my ink all over the desk!

Not my fault you're so ticklish.

Everyone's 'ticklish' there.

;/';/*; /*...*/...*/'/*;/'*;/'*/;*'/*;/'*/;*/ Ahh. I see. You have a point there.

About time you noticed.

Oh no, not going there. Not in the middle of Potions class!

Not going where? Not going underneath you're robes, under your shirt and over your chest... not going into your pants, my hands sliding over you. We're not having my mouth move slowly over you, me straddling you, chest to chest, legs wrapped tightly around your waist. Thrusting, moving-

The bell rang.

~~~~~~~

"I am very glad that was the last class of the day."

"Me too. Now I have lots of time to punish you." Kiss.

"Kinky."

"Draco..." Gasp. "What were you thinking? In potions class...?"

"I had a moment of inspiration. Aren't you supposed to go with those?"

"Uhhh... well..." Moan. "Can't argue with this... but Draco... a little warning next time?"

Self-satisfied smirk. "Consider yourself warned. I didn't get to write down the good part..."

And there was very little talking and very few articles of clothing worn for quite a while.

~~~~~~~

Hey, where's Blaise?"

"Blaise Zabini?"

"Yeah, where's he been anyway?"

"I don't know exactly. I saw his father come and get him the other day. I mean, I'm pretty sure it was his father..."

"People have been saying he transferred to Durmstrang."

"Not even a possibility. My cousin goes to Durmstrang, and she would have mentioned a new student. Especially one of our own."

"Well, all I know is he's gone now. None of his stuff is in the dorm room."

"Blaise wouldn't have been... I mean, he's too young for that, right?"

"He hasn't done anything yet. There's no way he's been Called."

"Oh, I don't know. It's always possible, I suppose."

"I, personally, think Voldemort will have his eye on Blaise for some time."

"Draco? Do you know something we don't?"

"Oh, no. I have my theories, that's all."

A few moments later...

"Draco, that grin is quite unnerving. Do stop it."