Happiness intro: My friend just got accepted into her 'dream' college...And I'm not getting enough sleep, due to these HP fics, perhaps? Either way, this is part one of Cloudy With a Chance of Malfoy. (Please attempt to enjoy and feel free to send comments...they will make me happy! does a little jig) Right well, important stuff first: this is SLASH. I don't own Harry Potter, the lady who wrote it does, naturally. Oh, the usual DM/HP combination...sorry to be so predictable. To begin:

Cloudy With a Chance of Malfoy

On a particular chilly night in January, all Gryffindors were huddled together in thetheircommon room, plotting.They were vividly discussing most completely absurd and needlessly complicated plans to get revenge on the Slytherins. Even Hermione Granger, the most sensible and rule-minding member of the group was very active in expressing her ideas. But, Harry the hero of Gryffindor, normally not a stranger to trouble, was not participating. No, Harry sat alone in the window seat, staring out into the night. Harry too was plotting what to do with Slytherin, a certain Slytherin, in fact, but not in the same way the rest of the group was.

He was thinking about Malfoy. Malfoy his enemy. His Malfoy. The ass. That smirky grin. That sexy stance. The seductive way herode his broom. It was obvious to Harry Potter, what was wrong with him... he wanted Malfoy. Malfoy, the pride of Slytherin, his enemy of five years, the slimy, sexy, sleek rat, with silver eyes, pale skin, and a harsh silky mouth with a cutting tongue. Harry could imagine what that tongue could do, he wanted that tongue to cut him, wanted it so bad, wanted it to...

"Harry, are you okay?" Despite her activeness in the discussion, Hermione Granger noticed Harry's withdrawnness and flushed complexion. "Harry, I know your upset, but..." She bit her lip hesitantly, as Harry still had yet to look at her, "HARRY!"

Harry finally turned to face his best friend, he could tell her, couldn't he? Tell her how he felt about malfoy, how he thought about Malfoy every second, how he wanted to...

"Harry?"

"Ummmm... mione," Harry desperately tried to think of something normal to say, something that wasn't about Malfoy. Malfoy with his piercing eyes, his ice blonde silky strands of hair, his tongue, oh that...

"Harry?"

Harry flushed again. And tried to convince himself to forget about Malfoy. Surely you can think of something besides Malfoy, you hated him for five years, think of something besides his rough wet tongue against your...Harry shuddered and moaned softly at those unbidden images came into his mind.

"Harry?" From the amount of concern in Herminoe's gaze, it was quite apparent that she was really worried.

Harry once again searched for something normal to say, "uhhh..." Something that wasn't about Malfoy's lush... "what's.. the weather...f-f-forecast for tt- t-tommorow?" he finally managed to stutter. That seemed like quite a success to him, at least it wasn't about Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy...

"What?" Hermione asked, her eyes searching Harry's face closely, "are you feeling alright Harry? There's a fever going around and..."

Fever, Harry mused, yes. Yes, I feel feverish, feverish with desire. He moaned again before remembering that Hermionewas staring at him expectantly and responded again with the only sentence he seems to be able to remember, "What's the weather forecast for tomorrow?"

Hermione, obviously concerned as well as confused, decided to humor Harry, "partly cloudy with a chance of Malfoy."

Harry jumped, his own musings visibly forgotten, "What did you say mione? Partly cloudy with a chance of..."

"Meatballs", hermoine supplied.

"What!" Harry's eyes widen at the word. Meatballs, Malfoy, Malfoy and his meatballs and Harry, hairy...Harry, sweating profusely, almost missed Hermione's answer of, "partly cloudy with a chance of rain...Harry, are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should-"

Harry sighed. He had to stop. He had to. had to forget the way Malfoy's eyes pierced into his skin, marking him. The way his leg rubbed against Harry's own during quidditch. Harry moaned and finally remembered that herminone was there, "I'm fine, really. I just need...to go to...bed." Upon uttering that, Harry regretted it as unbidden images once again flooded his head. Frantic and stumbling, he finally made it to his bed.

His bed. What would Malfoy think of his bed? Would he...could he...Harry moaned again. This was not good. He could see malfoy on his bed, body sprawled against his red and gold coverlet, silver eyes piercing...No, this had to stop, he needed to sleep. He needed to sleep, needed to stop the. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy. Harry moaned again. He needed to stop, needed...needed...a memory charm! He could get Malfoy out of his head and sleep. Malfoy with his full pouty luscious lips, and a...

Harry cast a quick memory charm and was instantly able to go to sleep. After that, His dreams uneventful, except that they held a glint of silver and the unspoken suggestion that something was missing.