Hello! Sugardusted here~ Well, I've never written a fanfiction before, so please don't be too harsh. Thankyou for reading!~

Draco itched his head. He really didn't know how to get out of this without severely getting into trouble. He gaped up at the massive, ornate wooden door in front of him. It was golden brown, and it had a sort of noble air to it. It had gorgeous lion carvings on it, lilies, all the sorts of things a nobleman would seem to have on one's door. Draco just remembered looking at blank empty wall, turning round, hearing a creak and then turning back round. His mouth hung in a massive "o" shape, as he wasn't expecting to see such a door appear in front of him. Well, this was Hogwarts, after all. Draco shrugged. He then took a few slow steps towards the door, hand going near the handle but withdrawing. He wanted to. But he couldn't.

The only thing was the temptation. The biting, itching temptation to open that door.

And, against all of the Slytherin reason in his head, he took the invite.

Draco's smooth, slender hand clenched around the silver gilded handle, and he nervously pulled the heavy door open.

What he had in mind to see when he opened that door was not this.

He had not been expecting to see someone huddled in the corner of the room. Especially not someone crying their eyes out, face a bright, raw, beetroot red from the stricken tears that dropped down from their face.

Especially Harry Potter.

Draco immediately scooted to the corner of the door, where Potter could not see him. He had a minute to marvel at his surroundings ; a vast area of dark, silent room. It was extremely dark. The curtains were ripped to shreds, but still lazily hung off the window frame. A massive double bed adorned most of the room, with its dusty coloured gold and red prints wearily trying to stand out against all the cobwebs and dust. Potter had his arm slung over a tiny cabinet in the tiniest corner of the room next to the bed. He was still crying. Draco glanced down as soon as the crying noise had stopped. He peered at Harry quizzically ; Harry was motionless. Until he rolled over, exposing his face.

He was asleep.

Draco's eyes visibly widened, as he took in the view. Harry Potter, sleeping right in front of him. He watched as his chest heaved up, and down rythmically. His raven-coloured hair was stuck to his face - strands loose everywhere. Potter's face was that of an angel - smooth, yet sharp. He had taken his glasses off previously, so his eyelashes were fluttering under the infulence of sleep. And those lips ; oh, those lips. There was only one word to be able to describe them, and that was -

Delectable.

Utterly delectable. That pink hue, with a tint of red, the plumpness of them, Draco wanted it, he hungered for it - he needed it, he couldn't --

Wait.

Draco, Potter's absolute nemesis, wanted to....touch him? Kiss him? Even hold him?

No. This was an outrage. Draco was not gay. He shook his head, and stamped his feet.

This seemed to rouse Potter, and he moaned in his sleep, and his lips parted. Draco growled with want. This was not happening. Seriously. Draco glanced to the left, and his eyes thinned. He sighed.

Potter might as well have a sign on his back, saying, "Please fuck me. Right now."

Before he decided he woul seriously regret this, Malfoy took one hesitant step forward. He was closer to Harry - and his loins were already on fire.