This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

-

One, two, three, four…shit, eleven happy couples.

And here I am slowly dying, thought Harry sadly and not a little melodramatically. Of a love that dare not speak it's name.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?"

Hermione's face swam into focus, looking concerned.

She had her hand on his shoulder, and he looked at it for a moment, not really seeing it. Eventually he shook his head to clear it and looked her in the eyes.

"Yeah, yeah…uh, what?"

Hermione frowned.

"Are you alright, Harry? You don't seem well. Maybe…maybe you should skip class today. You're very pale."

He smiled at her, swaying a little on his feet.

"Oh. Yes. No, I'm fine. Just hungry. Can we get breakfast?"

Hermione still looked troubled, but she nodded.

"Alright. Just…tell me if you need anything and I'll…well. Alright?"

Harry nearly laughed, but stopped himself in time. The one thing he needed was something Hermione could never give him. Ever. He smiled at her.

"Sure, Hermione. I'll keep you to it."

Hermione nodded warily and took his arm.

"Come on, then. Ron must be wondering where we are. I said we'd only be a few minutes."

Harry nodded and followed her.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Hermione took his hands in hers and said quietly, "Look, Harry. I know what it is. And obviously I'm a little anxious, but you know that nothing will ever make me love you less. And…I wish I could help you, Harry, I really do. But I can't, you know I can't."

Well, he had known she couldn't help, that wasn't what was so shocking.

"How do you know?" he said in a small voice.

Hermione shrugged, and then smiled sadly.

"Well. I know what it's like to be in love with someone who doesn't even notice you. I know what it looks like, Harry, and I'm not blind. But no-one…no-one else knows, I don't think. So…so don't worry."

She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek while he stood, rigid in front of her.

He was speechless, and continued to be so as Hermione walked him to their table.

Ron had saved them seats, he noticed vaguely.

"Took you long enough," Ron said through a mouthful of toast.

"Right, sorry," said Hermione. "I had to talk to Harry about something."

Ron looked not in the least bit interested, and waved her explanation away with a forkful of sausage.

As he and Hermione started to discuss their plans for summer, Harry sat there with a slightly stunned expression on his face.

He was confusedly going over his conversation with Hermione when the love of his life walked into the Great Hall.

Everything seemed to go silent.

If Harry had believed in that kind of thing, he might even have seen a choir of angels bursting through the roof and singing little ditties about the quality of said love of life's socks.

In reality of course – dull, grey, loveless reality – the room kept up its ear bleedingly loud commentary on life, and there wasn't a single feather to be seen, let alone a bloody angel.

Harry sighed and leant his chin on his hand.

The love of his life was talking to Blaise Zabini, and this, for some inexplicable reason, made Harry angry.

He, Harry, could have been talking to the other side of the conversation about…well, anything! He wanted to discuss philosophy, love, stars, magic...life, the universe and everything!

But what he really wanted, most of all, at that precise moment, was to go over to him – lovely, beautiful, shining him – and snog him senseless.

Of course, Harry wasn't sure if that would go down well with anyone except himself, so he refrained, although he found it difficult.

And the love of his life just kept on talking to Blaise Zabini, unaware of how much damage he was doing to Harry's heart and pants.

-

Harry slid into the bath with a sigh.

His muscles ached from he had no idea what, but the warmth of the bathwater sank through his skin and he felt his muscles relax.

After a moment of staring at the water, which was so deep as to have shadows, he dove under, hardly taking a breath, wanting to feel as light-headed as possible.

He reached the base of the bath and held himself in a sitting position with the jagged edge of a tile.

Harry stayed there, the water still and blissfully silent around him, for as long as he could hold his breath, wondering idly if he should drown himself.

He decided against that for the sole reason that he couldn't bear not to see Draco Malfoy one more time.

This realisation made him feel so depressed that he nearly took a mouthful of water in.

After another moment of light-headed contemplation, he pushed himself off the ground, gasping as his head broke the surface.

For around three seconds, Harry didn't realise that there was anybody else in the room, but then he heard the satiny sound of fabric falling to the ground, and Draco Malfoy, the love of Harry Potter's life and his almost greatest enemy, slipped around the corner, completely naked, and very, very beautiful.

He started a little at the sight of Harry watching him, and then a slow smile spread across his face.

He put his hands on his hips and Harry was reminded perversely of Peter Pan, any moment about to crow.

But Peter never looked this good naked, Harry was sure of that.

"Hello, Potter," said Draco, now grinning widely.

Harry wondered why he was smiling. He knew that there wasn't any chance of his doing the same, even if this was kind of like one of his most recent fantasies.

Of course, the fantasies generally ended a little differently to how this would, Harry knew.

There was no hexing in a fantasy, for a start.

But Draco surprised him by stepping into the bath, shivering a little as the water closed over his body, the muscles in his chest contracting as the water warmed them.

Harry felt himself twitch and was extremely grateful for the bubbles which where hiding his shame.

Draco grinned again, almost lazily this time, as if he knew what Harry was thinking.

Harry's cheeks burned as Draco leant cautiously back on the edge of the bath, his arms supporting his weight.

Harry gulped audibly as he watched Draco's muscles tense a little each time the water moved him backwards and forwards.

"Why…why are you here? Malfoy?" Harry asked, terribly ashamed of the way his voice broke on Draco's last name, and completely confused as to why Malfoy was in the bath with him instead of throwing hexes in his general direction.

Draco spread his hands pleasantly.

"What does it look like, Potter? I'm having a bath. Scrubbing up. Getting rid of the day's dirt. Just chilling out. Same as you."

"Exactly! With me!" Harry squeaked, his face burning with hot humiliation.

"What?" Draco laughed. "You think I'll take advantage of you?"

Harry's heart was threatening to burst out of his chest as he thought; well, yes. I definitely wouldn't have a problem with that.

"I mean, I could, Potter. After all, you do have a magnificent body, there is no denying it. And, hey. I've never even seen your cock. Which I must say is a mighty shame."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out except for a strangled 'oh' which seemed inexplicably to have gained several syllables.

Draco smiled slyly.

"I've always wondered if the golden boy is good at sucking cock. Have you ever done it?"

Harry shook his head, wide eyed. Why was the other boy talking to him like this? Was he trying to humiliate him? Or was there something else at stake here?

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on things which would calm his raging hormones somewhat, but he couldn't get the image of Draco Malfoy's fantastically naked body out of his head.

Everything had been so much more perfect than he ever could have imagined. Had imagined.

There was a faint splashing noise and Harry opened his eyes quickly, only to see Draco treading water next to him.

His eyes widened, and Draco smirked.

"You know, Potter, it was slightly shoddy planning on your part to leave the door unlocked. After all, anybody could have walked in, and then, who knows what might have happened?"

Harry was rather tempted to say that he was awfully glad he had left the door unlocked if it meant this was happening, but he couldn't find his voice.

"Anyway," said Draco, and his voice was deceptively pleasant and gentle. "I'm glad you're a shoddy planner, or I wouldn't be here now."

Harry wondered if it was possible to die of an adrenaline rush, because if that were so, he expected that his heart would stop beating in a few moments.

Draco's eyes were glittering, and Harry had a mad desire to kiss him, but the other boy beat him to it.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, and when Malfoy drew Harry's lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently, Harry couldn't stop himself from whispering the other boy's name into his mouth.

Draco smiled against Harry's lips, and said softly, "You continue to surprise me, Potter. It's really rather endearing."

Which made Harry's heart swell a little painfully.

Thoughtfully, Draco gazed at Harry, taking in his flushed skin, his wet hair which was sticking up in little horns, and the almost pleading way in which Harry looked at him.

He smiled gently and played with a lock of Harry's hair, after a moment breaking the silence.

"Potter. I would dearly love it if you permitted me to touch your cock. It has been a wish that I have held close to my heart, for many, many months, and I really would appreciate it if you let me. Really I would."

Before Harry could do anything more than whisper "Bloody hell!" he felt Draco's soft hands sliding into the water and up his wet shaft. He moaned a little despite himself, and Draco's hands moved again in response.

Harry was, to put it lightly, under rather a lot of stress.

And then Draco's hands suddenly weren't there, and Harry made a mewling noise as he mourned their loss.

Draco pushed him up against the wall of the bath and kissed him ferociously as he wrapped his shining legs around Harry's waist.

Draco pressed himself against Harry, moaning against his mouth.

He rocked gently against him, the unbearable pressure of Malfoy making Harry draw in a shaky breath as his heart raced.

He closed his eyes, completely overwhelmed, and when he could open them again, Draco was still staring at him thoughtfully, rocking against Harry so that he became gradually harder.

He licked his lips wistfully, drawing his lower lip into his mouth and sucking it contemplatively.

Harry watched, his breathing so shallow now that he felt slightly sick.

He hadn't wanted to push himself against Malfoy, it was true, he hadn't, but the other boy was so unyielding in the pressure he put on the other boy, grinding himself into Harry's crotch, that the dark-haired boy simply couldn't help it.

He arched his hips, his erection hard against Draco's arse, and gasped noiselessly as Draco adjusted his hips, drawing them both closer together.

"Get up," Draco whispered, and Harry, hardly able to speak, let alone move, said, "What?"

"Get up…edge…want…quickly…"

Harry struggled up onto the edge of the bath, moaning lightly as his bath-warmed skin touched the cold tiles.

Draco grinned, breathing heavily, and pulled himself up.

He pushed Harry down carefully, so that his feet still dangled in the water, and his back was on the tiles and then he kissed him again. Harry took the fingers of one of Draco's hands into his mouth and sucked on them gently, relishing their salty sweetness.

He gasped as Draco's fingers ran up Harry thighs, stopping inches away from the base of his legs. Malfoy slowly climbed over Harry's body, letting as much of his skin touch Harry's as was possible then straddled Harry's waist as his tongue slid into the other boy's mouth and his hands roamed down his chest.

Harry bit Draco's tongue so hard that it bled, and Draco made a noise in the back of his throat that was almost a groan, but not quite.

The water that covered both boys' bodies had somehow managed to become even hotter, and Harry found himself wondering if half of the water was actually sweat.

He knew that there was something wholly wrong with this picture, but he couldn't help but go along with it.

After all, Draco was offering things that Harry had dreamt of on a daily basis, and Harry tried to take good things as they came, nowadays, and bugger the consequences.

He pushed Draco up until he was settled comfortably on Harry's thighs, before putting his mouth to Draco's chest.

He let his tongue flick out and Draco rocked himself back and forth, moaning delightedly as Harry tasted Draco with his eyes closed.

He committed the taste and feel to memory; salty and warm, musky and almost cinnamon, rasping against his tongue in the way that only those hardened circles of flesh could.

Malfoy threaded his fingers through Harry's hair, pressing himself harder against Harry and groaning blissfully as he pressed the Gryffindor boy's hot mouth to his wet chest.

Harry felt that hazy sensation that came when one was in a dream, but the discomfit in his abdomen and the fact that Draco was saying, "Potter, a bit harder. No, bite it! Ow, yes. Like that," put paid to that theory.

After all, he had never had dreams like this - well, like this, of course, but not on the cold tiles of the Prefect bathroom's floor. Generally the dreams were a little more comfortable, and involved handcuffs or, failing those, various leather implements.

But it definitely didn't feel real.

So there was hardly any hesitation from him when Draco shimmied down Harry's body and said, "Don't make a sound," and, breathing hard and fast, he took Harry fully into his mouth; in such a professional way that Harry thought he must have done it before.

Any coherent thought was blasted immediately from his mind, however, when Draco started sucking on Harry's cock.

He was making appreciative noises, Harry noticed vaguely, through the thick fog of pleasure which was taking over his brain.

When Draco had succeeded in swallowing Harry right down to the base, he sucked gently on the tip, making Harry squirm delightedly under his mouth.

He used the pads of his thumbs to stroke Harry's inner thighs as his mouth moved faster, sucking on Harry's cock as though his life depended on it.

Harry's certainly seemed to.

He had a feeling that if Draco stopped right at this moment, he, Harry, would be so utterly put out that he might just have to reconsider that drowning thing.

But Draco didn't stop, and Harry was rather glad for that, as he had never really thought of drowning as a pleasant way to die, what with the going a bit unconscious, and the filling of lungs with water.

When Harry finally came, straining up into Draco's mouth, he was entirely certain that if he were to die now, he would be utterly, utterly happy and okay with that.

But when he caught sight of Draco, grinning up at him from between his legs, his mouth pink and shining wet, Harry had to reconsider that, and decided that instead of dying, he wanted to make Draco feel as good as he did.

He pulled Draco up his body, revelling in the warmth of the Slytherin boy's skin against his, and kissed him thoroughly, twining his fingers in Draco's hair and moaning his name onto Draco's tongue.

After a few minutes of silence broken only by heavy panting and the occasional exclamation as someone bit someone else, Harry performed a rather commendable feat of gymnastics and pinned Draco to the floor.

"Ooh," said Draco, watching Harry with considerable interest as he shimmied down between Draco's knees.

"Oh, I say!" exclaimed Draco as Harry pushed him down and tested the theory of relativity (i.e. that if his tongue was on Draco's cock at the same time as his hands were on his chest, then it was theoretically possible that Draco only felt his tongue. Alright, so it wasn't a good theory. Or even the theory of relativity. But it worked at the time.)

Harry laughed, feeling incredibly light-hearted.

"You are an incredible priss, Draco Malfoy," Harry said, wishing that this one moment could stretch on for infinity.

"Oh, really?" said Draco, attempting to sound biting and merely coming off as someone who was finding great pleasure in having another boy suck his dick.

"Yes, really," Harry affirmed around a mouthful of cock, and then went back to sucking on Draco.

"Okay," Draco acquiesced, twisting his fingers into Harry's hair and pushing his head down.

Then there was silence for a while, and Harry let his mind wander. It was all so strange and yet it seemed right. He didn't know why this was happening, and everything seemed dreamlike; until Draco tensed under him, digging his nails into Harry's shoulders hard enough that there would be red marks left in his skin.

Harry kept licking his cock gently, wondering if he could even feel it, and revelling in the bittersweet taste of Draco Malfoy's fluid. He licked his lips, and then put both hands onto Draco's cock, at which point he sucked the last drops off of his skin.

"Oh," said Draco, and he sounded very pleased.

Harry smiled then, and, pulling himself back up to Draco's level, kissed him softly.

Draco laughed against his mouth, sticky and wet, and Harry, overcome with everything that had just happened, began to laugh hysterically, holding onto Draco tightly.

When his laughter had eventually died down, he looked up to see Draco watching him fondly, a soft look in his eyes that Harry had never seen before.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, and then grimaced.

"Just pretend that I didn't sound incredibly like a girl, alright?"

Harry smiled up at him as Draco lightly ran his hands across his shoulders, playing with the light hair that grew at the base of Harry's neck.

"I'm thinking…" said Harry, and then blushed. If he said it, there would be no going back.

But then, did he want to go back? There was something to be said for honesty, and Harry had to employ his new philosophy of 'bugger the consequences if it makes you feel good'.

Draco stroked his spine, running his fingers down the bumps until he settled them against the curve of his arse, pulling Harry closer to him and kissing him softly on the neck.

"What are you thinking?" he asked again, and bit Harry's earlobe gently, making him gasp.

As Harry considered how to put it, Draco licked the curve of his ear, and Harry, without thinking, burst out, "I was thinking how much I love you."

Draco's tongue stopped moving for a quarter of a second, and then he resumed his licking as he contemplated this revelation.

"Hm," he said, and kissed Harry behind his ear.

"Well," he added, biting Harry's neck so hard that he cried out.

He didn't seem likely to say anything else, so Harry pushed him down and softly kissed along the curve of his neck, whispering, "That's not what you're meant to say, Draco."

Draco smiled lazily and kissed the tip of Harry's nose.

"You're so lovely when you're pissed off, darling. And since when have we been on first name terms?"

Harry made an exasperated noise, which was slightly detracted from by the fact that he then groaned, as Draco had just run his fingers around his thigh.

"Well," said Harry, what he considered a very articulate response, given what Draco's fingers where currently up to. He took in a ragged breath.

"I'd say since we just…had sex, I have the right to call you by your first name. Don't you think?"

Draco shrugged languidly, still smiling winningly at Harry.

"You really are gorgeous, Harry. I don't think you realise it."

Harry made a spluttering sound and then resorted to kissing the back of Draco's neck, because he couldn't think of anything to say.

Draco smiled, Harry could feel it, and he said, "Do you really love me?"

Harry bit his lip and said in a small voice, "Yes. Maybe. But you've been terribly spiteful to me, so I may have to reconsider it."

Draco let his fingers slide up to Harry's cheek and he said in a low voice, "Don't. Please don't."

And Harry thought that even if he had wanted to, he couldn't have, so it didn't matter.