Quod Semper, Quod Ubique, Quod Abonibus

In the months following Voldemort's defeat a quiet curtain had fallen over Hogwarts. The only witnesses to the final Act were either dead or The Boy Who Lived himself.

At late hours of the night, Harry Potter could be found aimlessly walking the school grounds. The boy had not said more than a handful of words since he had arrived at the gates of Hogwarts carrying the bodies of his companions. With Ron and Hermione gone, he appeared to have lost his way. The Headmaster had advised all to leave him well enough alone. This was just another battle the boy hero had to fight, nothing else.

The school year was weeks away from completion. The fifth and seventh year students were busy fretting over their OWL's and NEWT's. Harry was following his nightly ritual of wandering. Each step slapped the floor even though he was walking lightly. The sound of his breathing filled the quiet corridor. Harry was used to this. It was his peace, his escape. He was concentrating on the quiet calm when he perceived the sound of approaching footfalls. Stopping abruptly, he cocked his head to the side and listened for further movement. Within seconds, the corridor was deathly silent.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Self-pity!" A mocking drawl swept over Harry's ears.

Deliberately, he turned to face his onetime nemesis. Within the last few months, the two had barely exchanged a word. When they had talked, the subject was either Quidditch or school. Why was the Slytherin talking now?

"Do you need something?" Harry's voice was emotionless.

Malfoy glowered at him. "Not at the moment, but you do."

"What are you talking about?"

Taking a few steps to close the distance between them, Malfoy sneered, "What are you dong wandering around at this time of night? Oh wait, the boy hero has lost it. Maybe he needs his sanity back"

Harry stared coldly at his rival with frozen emerald eyes. "I still have no idea what you're talking about. Now if you could please move out of the way it would be much appreciated."

"Since when have I wanted to make you happy, Potter?" Malfoy shook his head. "No, I don't think you'll be going anywhere."

Harry watched in cold fury as Malfoy moved further into his personal space. Annoyed, he growled, "move."

The blonde boy took another step forward. "What are you going to do, Potter?"

Harry was painfully aware of the other boy's proximity. He hadn't been this close to anyone in months. Suddenly, he was keenly aware of the way the Slytherin's chest rose and fell, of the way his breath hissed softly as it passed out of his smirking lips, of the way his silver hair danced with each exhale. The boy in front of him was a living, breathing human.

In that moment, something deep inside of him took control. In one swift motion he gathered the Slytherin's tie in his right hand and pulled until he could feel the warm breath on his face.

Malfoy tugged hesitantly against Harry's grasp. His voice breathy, he murmured, "Potter?"

Terrifyingly dark emerald eyes seared into light gray ones. "Please? It's so warm. Alive."

Malfoy stayed paralyzed in Harry's grasp, no longer fighting. "Warm?"

The confusion was evident in his voice, but Harry paid it no mind. He nodded and slowly raised his left hand to touch Malfoy's lips. The warmth of the Slytherin's breath flowed across his fingertips. The blonde's breathing hitched as Harry's fingers lowered to caress his lips. Harry smiled, like a small child fascinated by a new toy. "So beautiful. So alive."

Malfoy glanced uncertainly down at Harry's hand. When he raised his eyes again, he couldn't restrain the gasp of shock that left his lips. Harry's expression had changed from one of childish delight to that of a hungry predator. There was no mistaking the fire in his eyes. Malfoy swallowed convulsively. "Why?"

The question hung in the air as Harry continued to absorb the sensation of his rival's breath. He grinned at his fingers. "So real."

After that, the blonde could produce no response. It took only a small shuffle for Harry to place his lips on his fingers and then slide the latter away to taste the sweetness of Malfoy's breath. It wasn't a kiss, only a long inhale with the barest caress of lips.

Sensing the half contact, Malfoy groaned, half wanting Harry to finish the uncompleted task, half screaming in fear and revulsion. What exactly was going on? Malfoy had no idea and he wasn't even sure that Harry understood any better. Before his mind could debate any longer, the purely physical took control.

Malfoy raised a hand to grasp at the nape of Harry's neck. In one quick pull, his lips arrived at their target. Harry's eyes were wide as Malfoy stared into them. Harry blinked and the eyes behind the glasses seemed to focus again. For a moment there was no sensation but the steady exchange of exhales. Harry gaped silently at Malfoy a moment longer before tightening his grip on the tie. The breath of another human made him remember, perhaps the touch would help him forget.

In a daring move, he gently caressed Malfoy's lips with the tip of his tongue. The heavy exhale of breath from his companion encouraged him. Malfoy's lips were soft, softer than the sneer had ever indicated. The mingling of warmth, softness and air drove Harry forward. He had never done this, but it had never been like this. The shivers running down his spine were as much an effect of the contact with a real human being as from the insistent pressing of Malfoy's body against his own.

The wall appeared behind his back, cold, uneven stone heightening his senses even more. By this time, Malfoy's tongue was busy memorizing the contours of Harry's mouth. Harry felt an acute heat burst from within his stomach, like caged butterflies escaping in a chaotic flurry. Soon, the pressure between their bodies simply could not satisfy Harry's nerve endings. He was on fire and Malfoy was the only bucket of water. With a growl he released the Slytherin tie and took hold of Malfoy's shoulders, slamming him brutally against the wall. Malfoy moaned into his mouth, but didn't pull away. If anything, he pressed harder.

A fleeting thought reminded Harry that they were in an open school hallway. Anyone could witness the strange display of passion, if it could even be called that. Malfoy's mouth continued to slide over his own and much of his coherent thought was lost in the moment.

Seconds later, Malfoy was returning Harry to his place against the wall. Then his deft lips were sliding over Harry's jaw, leaving a trail of fire. As his lips passed over Harry's ear, he spoke in a husky rasp.

"Merlin Potter! Let me..."

Harry almost died of sensory overload right then. "Anything. It's just so real, so alive."

Malfoy nodded as he teeth grazed the edge of Harry's collarbone. The raven-haired boy's mouth fell open in a soundless gasp. Then his robe was falling to the ground and slender fingers were undoing his shirt buttons, leaving his tie in place around his neck. The silky material felt odd in contrast to the sudden rush of cool air. When his shirt was pushed away, the cold air compelled a startled breath that soon became a whimper as Malfoy's hot mouth burned a trail down his chest, pausing just under his navel.

Intense gray eyes rose up to meet Harry's own. Within the heat, Harry could see a thin lair of confusion touched by uncertainty. Holding the gaze, Harry nodded. "Anything...please."

Taking the muttered phrase as permission, Malfoy quickly turned his attention to Harry's slacks. Smirking up at Harry, their gazes still locked, Malfoy drew one finger slowly along the growing sign of arousal within Harry's slacks. Harry bit down on his lip to keep from crying out. Eyes still on the green of his companion's, Malfoy undid the zipper, the belt and finally the top button. Harry groaned and broke the eye contact to let his head fall back against the wall.

He could not keep his gaze away long as he felt Malfoy's soft breath on him. His eyes widened in surprise as he realized the Slytherin's intentions. Merlin, no one had ever done *that* to him, boy or girl.

Malfoy smirked at him. Harry could not resist moaning as he spoke, "Oh...hell...please."

"Please what?" Malfoy moved away, taking his sweet breath with him.

"Please make me forget." The raw emotion in Harry's voice shocked his counterpart, but the other boy was intent on not thinking about the situation.

Malfoy's breath returned, sending shivers up and down Harry's spine. Harry did not take the time to wonder where Malfoy had acquired this skill; there was no time to think, only feel. He let his head rock against the wall, panting slightly. As Harry's breaths quickened, his fingers tangled in Malfoy's hair.

Harry's hand instinctively tightened in the blonde hair as a blinding flash of light brought the desired release. As he glanced down over his shuddering body, Harry was greeted with the most beautiful image, one that would surely be engraved in his memory forever.

Draco Malfoy with his hair rumpled, cheeks flushed, and lips sparkling deep red. And his eyes, they contained a feral gleam as the torchlight danced within them. Harry's skull cracked against the wall. "Bloody hell."

Harry could sense Malfoy rising from his kneeling position. Before he could react, Malfoy's teeth sunk into his shoulder, hard enough to draw blood.

The abrupt pain shot a wave of awareness though Harry. Gasping in surprise, he shoved Malfoy away from him.

"Merlin! What the hell, Potter?" Malfoy's voice was thick with arousal, but his tone was confused.

Harry sparred him a small glance before tugging his slacks back into place. He banged his head against the wall. How had he lost control? The warmth, the breath. Shaking his head to clear it, he glanced at Malfoy.

The Slytherin's expression was cold, emotionless. He voice was even colder as he spoke. "What the hell are you playing at?"

Malfoy was as beautiful now as minutes before, cold aura included. Harry frowned as he realized his train of thought. That hadn't been about Malfoy he told himself. It could have been anyone, couldn't it? The activities against the corridor wall were only lapses in control due to human contact. That had to be it. "I have to go."

"So you're just going to leave and forget it ever happened? Just going to use me to get off and then curl up like a good little boy in your bed and forget all about it? Fine." Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "But remember this Potter, Malfoys are not used."

The hatred burning in the blonde's eyes was almost enough to convince Harry to turn and run before things got messier. Another part of his brain reminded him that the aforementioned had already occurred. Instead, he decided to save some dignity while getting the hell away from the boy in front of him. "Whatever. Goodnight."

As he stepped forward, Malfoy caught his shoulder. Then the Slytherin smirked dangerous at him. Surprised, he didn't fight as Malfoy brushed his lips lightly over his own. "Believe me. You can't forget, Potter."

The words were murmured softly onto his lips, barely audible. Confused, Harry pushed away and all but ran down the corridor, Malfoy's knowing smirk following him all the way to the boy's dormitory.