It was going to be the same again. Him sitting too close at Potions. Leaning it too far. Brushing his hand as if by accident. Hissing something vaguely insulting when spoken to. Harry sighed. Draco Malfoy had some issues.

He said goodbye to Neville and left the common room. For some inexplicable reason, Slughorn decided to intervene in whatever animosity remained between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. They were both in a position of power once they finish school, Harry thought. Perhaps it was Slughorn's way of assuring himself even better connections, to earn their gratitude once, or if, they became friends.

Of course it was different now, after the war. The students were sparse in numbers. Not all of the professors had returned. The castle seemed quieter, bigger somehow; and it seemed like the barrier that was between him and the rest of the students had been lifted even higher.

He had his best friends, but they didn't speak of it. There was no need. They've said it all, and all they needed now was a sense of normalcy and continuation of their lives in order to heal.

He thought about Malfoy. How could he keep up the childish hate and bickering after all that has happened? He didn't care anymore. They'd been civil to each other. He'd tried, and it didn't work. He was just as unapproachable as ever, only quieter and sending mixed signals. Harry guessed he'd have to wait it out. He didn't know what was going on in that head of his, but maybe he could guess.

He met his friends at the door to the classroom, chatting. Hermione met him with a hug.

"Didn't sleep tonight too well, either?" He shrugged. She knew. Hermione put her hand on his forehead in the muggle, motherly way of telling if you were sick. Ron was looking at her, trying to figure it out.

"Have you been taking my potions?" she asked, face worried. "Why not?"

"I don't like taking potions, Hermione." he said.

She understood immediately. "You should take some time for yourself," she said softly. "You've never missed class this year. Slughorn will understand."

Ron was looking at him quietly. "Yeah, mate. Go fly a bit or something." Hermione nodded. "That's a really good idea, Ron."

Harry felt their love and warmth, and smiled a little. They've suggested this a few times, but he never went. He really needed it, today. Needed them, their caring. He hadn't slept a wink, instead spending the night looking at the map, reading a few books, looking at the ceiling, wanking a little. "Maybe I could go for a little walk," he said. Hermione offered a hug and he took it, happily.

His best friends tried so desperately to give him what he needed, and without their silent, yet constant support he would have a lot more trouble: starting to live again, looking forward to day-to-day things like dinner at the Hall. He'd just feel - lost.

But they couldn't give him everything. Spending time with them, bearing witness to their displays of affection for each other, he felt an aching need for intimacy only a lover provides. All he had experienced was kissing Cho Chang, so long ago that it felt like it happened in another life, to somebody else. He and Ginny had drifted apart, and she didn't return to Hogwarts after being offered a reserve position at the Holyhead Harpies - an offer no one could refuse. He hoped she was happy. The job was good, and even if she didn't get her preferred position, she was a good player.

He hadn't even realized when he had become so lost in thought everyone already went into the classroom, leaving him alone in the quiet corridor. He thought about taking that walk for a while, then turned on his heel and went back to the Gryffindor tower. He suddenly felt so sleepy he could hardly drag himself up the stairs, and the path to his dorm room seemed to go on forever.

When he finally got to his bed, he didn't bother with the shoes. It didn't take a minute until he drifted off to uneasy sleep.

He felt a gentle hand stroking his cheek. Harry opened his eyes, trying to sit up, looking for his glasses.

"Here they are, Harry. " Hermione put his glasses into his hand and he couldn't suppress a yawn. The room was bathing in warm afternoon light, and her hair was the colour of autumn leaves. He smiled.

"What time is it?"

"I think it's about … six in the evening. You've slept a while." He could tell by her voice and her smile that she was glad. "Ron's at quidditch practice." Harry started to get up. "No, no no. They're almost finished. You'll go tomorrow."

He slumped back into his pillow.

"Uhm, Harry." There was something else. "Harry, Slughorn insisted that your potions partner bring you today's notes and assignments. You know how he's been. And well, I don't think it's such a bad idea …"

Harry tried to sit up properly. Does that mean Malfoy came to his dorm room? Was he still here?

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and after not getting a response from Harry, she said:. "Can I tell him to come in?"

He shrugged. He couldn't as well tell him to turn around and leave. Hermione got up to get him.

Malfoy came through the door, looking around. Of course, he's never been to the Gryffindor tower before. It must have been quite a difference from the water-immersed world of the dungeons. He almost looked out of place in all of the red brocade and gold accents. Or was it just because it was Malfoy?

Somehow he looked nervous. "I've brought you the … potions assignments." Then he glanced around. "Where's Granger?"

Harry sat on the edge of the bed. It was strange that he hadn't noticed Hermione had left.

Malfoy leaned on the dresser and stared at the floor, apparently unwilling to come closer. There was no trace of the sly accidental touches, lingering stares. Harry realized he hadn't said a word to him yet.

"Um, thanks. For the notes." Malfoy nodded and edged closer, touching the bed pillar. Harry made no effort to move from the bed and it was evidently making him jittery.

"Are you not feeling well?" Malfoy said. They both knew there was no point in asking him that, but he was glad for the effort.

"I'm fine. Just tired, and a bit …" He trailed off.

Malfoy glanced up. "What?"

"Oh, you know. Down, sometimes." He tried not to sound pathetic, but the blonde seemed to understand. "Yeah. Me too." He put a hand over his mouth suddenly, like a child that has said a bad word.

Harry pointed at the foot of the bed. "Sit down, won't you?"

It appeared that it was something he was dreading. He sat down, at the farthest end, clutching his notes. As if suddenly realizing why he was there, he handed Harry the notes, and he took them and put them on the nightstand. "I'll need those back."

Harry laughed a little at Malfoy's frown. "What's so funny?"

He fixed his glasses and smiled. "Nothing." At that moment, he'd decided. Malfoy was chicken shit. He was shaking, still dazed from his recent slumber, but hell, wasn't he a Gryffindor, or something?

He edged closer while Malfoy paled. "I should go."

Harry felt strangely amused, and as interested as he hadn't been in anything in awhile. "Go where?"

Malfoy mumbled something.

"What?"

"Dinner," he replied a bit more audibly and fidgeted with the end of his shirt with his pale fingers.

The sun was setting and almost suddenly, the room got darker. It was harder to make out the expression on his face, so he got even closer.

Malfoy got up abruptly and went to the door. Harry fell back on his elbows, almost as if he were expecting it. Like he knew nothing would come of it, and he was fine being left alone in his room again.

Perhaps something about his expression stirred him. Malfoy stared at him, hand on the door handle. Then, almost like he wasn't aware of his body, he moved. All of a sudden, he was here, he was close, and his mouth was on Harry's. Soft, wet, warm, clumsy, almost like neither of them had ever kissed anyone before. His mouth was shy, slow: his eyes wide open in terror of what he was doing. Harry kissed back, fiercely, as if he was expecting it. His hands were on his neck and his fine blonde hair, caressing the curve of his head, the sides of his face. When he touched his soft lips with his tongue and pressed them apart, Malfoy let out a moan, and returned the favor.

The blonde's hands stayed firmly in his own lap, perhaps out of sheer terror. Harry edged closer and took the liberty of removing Malfoy's hands and sitting in his lap, never breaking the kiss. They were both panting into each other's mouth in the hot, damp air of the room. It was almost completely dark now, the night taking on secrets. There was the usual commotion out in the common room as the students started coming back after dinner, but neither of them noticed.

Harry was kissing him, tongue swirling, mouth inviting and soft, holding the back of his head so he could kiss him better. His head was swimming. He felt nothing but the sensation on Malfoy's body under his, his silky lips, and the pain of his own aching cock. Hands trailed under shirts. Harry got rid of the damp shirt he slept in and continued the kiss, making it rougher, making it harder. Malfoy returned it, unrelenting. Neither of them spoke a word, afraid of breaking the spell.

Harry felt something he'd never felt before, this ache to touch this man, all over, again and again, to please him, to know him. He wondered whether he felt the same, but then Malfoy started kissing his neck and down his torso, and he couldn't think anymore.

The blonde scooted him of his lap and onto his back. He then proceeded to take of his pants while kissing him wherever he could, panting. When he pulled down Harry's underwear, he felt his whole body tense under his touch. He stopped.

"What is it?" Malfoy said. He almost didn't recognize his voice. Then Harry could almost see his expression change in near total darkness. "You've never done this before."

Harry coughed, trembling. "No. I haven't."

Malfoy seemed almost perplexed. "Do you … do you want me to leave?"

He almost laughed. "No. Please don't. Just … tell me what to do. I'm not good with this stuff."

It was strange to see Harry so unraveled, so open and eager. Almost like he was giving Draco a gift, something fragile and precious.

The blonde climbed up to kiss him. "Lie down and enjoy it. If there's something you're not comfortable with, tell me. I can go slower, or stop. Up to you."

It felt bizarre that Malfoy - no, Draco - was finally here on his bed, telling him this, planting kisses on his jaw. He wanted to chuckle, but nodded instead. When he realized he probably couldn't see it, he answered. "Yeah. Alright."

He lay back as instructed, trying to relax, and felt a trail of Draco's soft hair tracing the path of his kisses and licks. He bit his nipple, and Harry yelped in surprise. The blonde stopped, but he pulled him closer. "No, do - do it again. Harder."

He could feel Draco smile against his skin, and grinned in return. He could feel the pressure of his whole body on his, skin on skin. His legs pressed against him. His slender arms caressing and touching anything they could reach. He became aware of Draco's cock digging into his leg through his trousers, and of his panting and ragged breathing. It was so intense Harry was gasping for air, and when his soft moistened lips finally enveloped his cock, he thought he might faint. Not heroic at all.

Draco suddenly seemed to remember something, and reached for his wand. Before Harry could react, he cast a silencing and locking spell on the door.

"But then my roommates can't come in," said Harry helplessly.

"That's the idea," Draco grinned and unceremoniously proceeded to suck his cock. It was so surprising and sudden he let out a low cry. The pleasure suddenly magnified, Draco working his tongue on the sides of his penis, then bobbing his head up and down, his tongue swirling, hands cupping his balls. He had never felt anything like it before, and he felt his orgasm already building.

"I - I …" He couldn't say it, because Draco took his whole length into his mouth. The warmth, the texture, the feeling - it was too much. Malfoy backed a little as he came, working him with his hands until he was completely spent.

Harry's mind was whirling. He felt Draco's hand gently stroke the side of his leg.

"Fuck," he said. "You - " He couldn't continue. Becoming aware of his semen all over his stomach, he reached for his wand and cleaned it up.

He didn't know what to do next, so he pulled his pants back on and tried to sit up next to Draco, who was watching him silently.

Harry touched his naked chest and kissed him, shyly, slowly. He was surprised at his own taste in Draco's mouth. The other boy tentatively kissed back, almost unsure of himself.

"Are you ok?" Harry finally asked, his voice breaking from his dry throat.

He felt the boy nod, staying still. Then he got closer, and started stroking his arm.

"Harry," was all he said.

"I don't want you to leave," Harry said. He meant it. To hell with the games.

Draco was evidently taken aback. "You want me to sleep here? With your roommates around?"

Harry hadn't quite thought that through. "Well, um - do you have a better idea?"

Draco seemed to regard it for a moment, then said almost inaudibly: "I've got a room to myself, if you want to come."

The prospect of that was almost too exciting to think about why he had his own room in the first place, but Harry made a mental note to ask him. "Yeah. Ok. Let's do that."

Draco was pale. "Now?"

"Yeah. Why not now?"

He motioned towards the door. Harry could hear muffled sounds of students in the common room, laughing at something, talking, someone looking for their cat. "Oh. Well… I guess we can …" He hesitated. "We can use my cloak."

Draco snapped to attention. "Cloak? What kind of cloak?" He seemed to know what he was about to hear, but couldn't quite believe it.

Harry got up from the bed and reached under it, searching for a minute and then pulling out a long cloak, made of material that seeped like water. He could hear Draco gasp.

"You - this is unlike anything I've ever seen before. Where did you get this?"

Harry looked up. "It was my dad's."

Draco was at a loss. "I'm sorry." His apology seemed to echo into their history, into what happened - how could he apologize for everything? - into the eyes of the people dead, until Harry's ears were ringing.

"Harry?"

He forced himself to snap out of it. It was the second time he had called him by his name. Draco sat there on the bed, his gaze fixed on the carpet. "I should probably just go."

Harry sat next to him. There was something of which he was certain: he wasn't letting this go. Tomorrow, Draco might turn away instead of facing him. He might pretend this had never happened, and let fear guide him away from something good. So he kissed him, hard. He felt him giving in, and they would have forgotten about the cloak completely, if it weren't for a knock on the door, and someone saying something in a voice muffled by the door.

"Harry?" It was Ron. "Can I come in, mate? It's locked …"

Taken aback, Draco stood up, unsure of what to do. Harry was the first to come to his senses, and started gathering Draco's clothes and pushed them into his hands. He then put the cloak over him quickly, feeling him shake a little. He wasn't in the mood for explaining. Putting on his own clothes, he reached for his wand and after a quick scan around the room undid the spells. "Sorry, mate. I didn't want anyone to wake me up."

Ron came in, broom in hand. Harry became aware of the smell of sex in the room, and hoped his best friend wouldn't notice. The room often smelled of teenage boys, wanking as soon as they got a moment to themselves.

"Have you been to dinner yet? It's apple pie," Ron said. He knew it was his favourite, and Harry felt a wave of gratitude and love for his friends.

"Yeah? Is dinner over yet?"

"You might catch the last bites if you hurry," said Ron, sitting on his bed and stretching.

"I'm gonna do that," said Harry. "Catch you later." He hoped Draco would pick up the cue and started walking toward the door, feeling a swish of the cloak a moment before he closed it behind him.

The common room was crowded, and it took some luck for both of them to get through the portrait without anyone noticing. Harry almost prayed Draco was still with him, and as soon as they were on a deserted hallway, he said into thin air: "Are you here?"

He heard him say, "I'm here."

Harry sighed a breath of relief.

"We should switch now," said Draco. Careful about being seen, Harry put the cloak on and Draco tried to smooth out his shirt as they made their way to the dungeons. The Slytherin common room was completely empty. They got to his room without a problem and Draco locked it immediately, then leaned on the door, apparently exhausted.

Harry looked around. It wasn't spacious, and the furniture held the usual Hogwarts decoration, only this time in silver and green. It had his own small private bathroom and a window, currently of the darkest black.

He sat down on his chair and looked at Draco helplessly. "I forgot to take my toothbrush."

Draco started laughing, sliding to the floor. His roar of laughter made Harry giggle and relax. "You can use mine, git."

He looked good like this. Sitting on the floor, his clothes disheveled, eyes closed in silent laughter. Harry decided it was best to crawl toward him, climb his hands up his body and kiss that grin.

Draco accepted it immediately and creeped his hands under Harry's shirt while biting his lip. Breathing heavily, they started tearing each other's clothes off. Harry needed to feel his skin against his again, to feel him more completely, to kiss him whole. Stumbling, Draco pushed him toward the bed and took of his pants. Harry stared at his cock, standing to attention, long, but slightly bent to the right. He noticed the fine blonde curly hair at the base and how huge it seemed.

Draco waited, assessing the situation. He knew full well why Harry was suddenly stiff and overwhelmed.

"There's nothing you have to do, Harry. We can do whatever you want." Harry nodded, but didn't seem to relax. "I've never … Have you been with many guys before?"

That surprised Draco. "Not so many. About three." Harry nodded again. "Can I … Can I ask, who? I mean, you don't have to answer - "

"No, it's fine," he said and sat next to him on the bed. "One, you don't know. Then there was Blaise, but you've probably figured that one out already. And Roger from Ravenclaw."

"Roger? As in Roger Davies, the quidditch captain?" He seemed shocked.

"The very one." He grinned a little at the memory.

"But I didn't - I had no idea." Harry was looking beside himself.

"What's wrong?"

"I've never noticed, I mean - I never knew these things were happening. Like, Roger always had a girlfriend. He even got Fleur Delacour as his date at the ball back then."

"Has it ever occurred to you that he might be interested in both, hm?" Draco leaned back in all of his naked glory and raised an eyebrow. Harry blushed.

"Not really," he admitted. "I've just never thought about it at all."

He noticed Draco staring at his partly unzipped pants, listening but distracted. Harry gathered up his courage and slid his pants down, exposing his cock, filling up again.

Before Draco could move, Harry climbed onto him and stuck his tongue in his mouth, accidentally pushing their newly erect cocks together, and he whimpered. Draco seemed to take it all in stride and started grinding against him in a delicious, erratic motion. Harry has never felt anything quite like this. His body was making him go mad. Overcome with lust, Draco was completely different: not afraid, thoroughly in control of himself.

Finally, he slid his hand down and gripped Draco's cock. Draco hissed and started kissing him more fiercely, his cock moving in Harry's clumsy palm. His hand travelled to his arse and Draco squeezed it, making them both groan. Harry was suddenly aware of his body, not hidden in the night anymore, seeing Draco move against him, letting him do what he wanted.

He felt Draco move away.

"Lie on your stomach," he instructed him. "You'll like this."

Harry blushed and did as he was told. His bravado was quickly waning. He felt Draco kissing his back slowly, building anticipation. Excruciatingly slowly, he licked down to the curve of his arse. Harry looked at him anxiously.

Draco smiled under his breath. "What's bothering you? Is it the arse?"

Harry nodded yes, unable to speak, red like a tomato.

"You know, if you're really worried, which you shouldn't be, there's a spell for that. Would you like me to perform it on you?"

He couldn't answer, but Draco could see his effort to relax. "Does it hurt?"

He felt Draco plant soft kisses on the back of his legs. "No Harry, it doesn't."

Him saying his name relaxed him more than anything. "Ok."

"Alright. Relax. Trust me."

He felt him spread his arse cheeks apart, then felt the cold tip of Draco's wand against his opening. He muttered a spell, and it was cold. He shivered.

"That's it. Wasn't so bad, was it?" Harry tried not to yelp when he felt his breath on his opening, and then he licked, and it was a sensation so incredible he never wanted it to stop. Draco licked around his hole, then left to right, all the while caressing his arse, his thighs, his back. Harry was moaning blindly, not even being aware of the volume. His wet tongue was magic; lapping and the nerve endings and making him shake with pleasure. Suddenly, he felt him spreading his legs for better access and then his tongue was inside him. It hurt a tiny bit, and then not at all, as he unknowingly pushed himself against Draco's tongue again and again.

"I want you to fuck me," moaned Harry. "I want you."

Draco stopped and looked at him, deliberately. "I thought … we might wait a little. For you to get used to it." Harry turned around to face him. "I trust you. I want it. I've thought about it for a long time now. Please."

Draco was taken aback. "I didn't even think you'd want that, honestly. I've always imagined you on top."

Harry grinned. "Always, huh?"

Now it was Draco that started to flush. "Awhile."

"We'll get back to that," said Harry with a sly grin. "Anyway, I want this. I want you inside me."

When he said that, he saw the grey eyes filled with such lust he barely registered anything before his vision was obscured by blonde hair, Draco kissing him fiercely, only stopping to bite on his lip, to grope whatever part of him he could reach with his hands. They rolled around the bed, naked, kissing, until they got breathless. Then Draco got up to get his wand, dimming the lights as he went to relax Harry further.

"You can stop me anytime," he said. "Spread your legs."

The coarseness of that command sent blood straight to Harry's dick. He did it, flushed, and heard Draco take something from his nightstand. There were cold, slick fingers at his opening, and after massaging his arse for a little while, he started inserting a digit into his opening. Harry groaned. This was not pleasant, but he was so aroused he couldn't care less. Draco knew what he was doing, evidently, and he was taking his sweet time. Caressing him, leaning in to kiss him on the lips, all the while pressing in and out, until one finger started feeling more comfortable and he noticed Harry push against him. He added another one, and after Harry didn't protest, continued to fuck him slowly with his fingers, until he was loose, relaxed and moaning. It took a while, because he took it very slow in order to make the first experience as pleasurable as he could for him.

When he stopped, Harry tensed again, staring at the size of his lubed up cock. Draco smiled and kissed him again to distract him. Harry felt his cock against his hole; he didn't expect it to feel so huge. But he needed this, he wanted this. It'd been fine so far. He felt him enter, slowly, and it hurt like hell. Draco stayed still for a moment while Harry groaned.

"Fuck. It hurts."

"I know. It will for a little bit. We can stop if you want."

Harry shook his head. "Just … go slow."

Draco could barely contain himself. He was rock hard and he ached to move. Slowly, he started pushing even further in while paying attention to Harry, who was swearing under his breath.

"Relax, Harry." He tried to make his voice as soothing as possible.

He felt him relax a bit around his cock and he started moving, very slowly. After a while, his opening got looser, and his groans turned into moans.

"Shit. That feels good, actually. Fuck, Draco."

Draco smiled in response, breathlessly, trying to compose himself. He lowered his head to lick under Harry's ear, and stopped moving, still inside him. He felt him shift.

"No, don't stop - " he said, opening his eyes.

"What do you want me to do?" Draco whispered against his ear. Harry shivered, and swallowed thickly. This was not the Draco he knew, and it was hypnotising.

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, Draco. Fuck me now." His voice was hoarse with need, breathing ragged. Draco pressed his nose into his neck and inhaled the smell of his sweat.

"You're so fucking hot, Harry. You feel so good. It makes me so hard when you beg me to fuck you." His low voice sent shivers down Harry's spine.

He started to move again, and after a while he hit the spot, and Harry yelled out. All of it was new, and it felt so good, sending a jolt to his own cock every time. Slowly, Draco reached his lubed up hand for Harry's cock, and started stroking with the rhythm as much as he could. Harry couldn't take it anymore, the sensations were too much. He felt his arse stretch with every thrust, felt every inch of his cock as he pushed inside him, heard the wet sound of flesh against flesh. He started coming, moaning loudly, toes curling. Draco lasted longer, and he rode his arse until he couldn't hold himself back anymore, filling him with hot cum, shuddering against him.

Harry yelped a little when Draco pulled it out slowly. Cum started spilling out of his opening, his eyes were closed and breathing uneven.

"Harry? Are you ok?" Draco seemed to be concerned.

Harry laughed a little, turning his head towards him and opening his eyes.

"Yeah. I'm good." He buried his face back into the pillow, seemingly falling asleep.

"Maybe I should help you clean up, before you fall asleep with my cum in your arse?" Draco sounded amused.

He heard a muffled reply. Sweaty, he planted a kiss on Harry's back and went to fetch a towel. When he came out of the bathroom, Harry was looking at him.

"You look so good, Draco." Him saying his name sent a thrill through his whole body again.

"You too, Harry. Especially like this." Fucked well. Harry smiled as if he knew exactly what he was saying.

Draco handed him the towel and watched him blush as he cleaned himself, then trying to stand up and wince.

"You should feel a little pain tomorrow. But nothing too bad. I wasn't very hard on you," said Draco. Harry didn't want to imagine what hard must look like. His arse was aching and stretched and his cock spent. "I should take a shower," he said. Draco showed him around, giving him everything he needed. They stood at the sink, looking anywhere but at each other.

Then, Harry leaned in to kiss him, almost shyly. It was easy and sweet, and when he pulled back, he leaned on his shoulder. Just like that, calm and trusting. "I liked it," he said.

Draco didn't know what to say to that, so he just stroked his cheek. After taking a shower they lay onto his tiny bed, arms around each other, drifting off to sleep.

"I'm glad you're here, Harry," he said.