Title: The Return

Disclaimer: I'm so not J.K…

Rating: R

Pairing: H/D

Warnings: Slash (if that needs to be stated…), 8th-year fic (aka EWE), uncontrollable erections.

Summary: It's 8th Year and Harry's discovered his libido for the first time. Draco Malfoy wants to get to know Harry, but he gets more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, there are people in the world who were not happy with the way the war ended.

Chapter 1: To Hogwarts

"Hurry up or you'll miss the train, dears." Molly Weasley had had her fill of Ron and Harry acting up this summer.

When Harry wasn't dealing with the fame and the press, he and Ron had spent their time goofing off, pulling pranks, and making up for the childish behavior in which they hadn't been able to indulge after the return of Voldemort. But with the constant evil of the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters gone, they finally had their chance. What did Harry or Ron care that they were 18 now?

Despite her weariness, Molly couldn't help but smile when Ron gave Harry's trolley a giant shove and ran through the barrier onto Platform 9 3/4, followed closely by a giggling Harry and an amused Hermione. Ginny followed along more sedately, musing over Harry's behavior.

He'd become drastically more carefree since ending the war and she was happy for him. But she was coming to realize that what had originally attracted her to the boy with no sense of style was his brooding nature. Maybe she just preferred the dramatic boys. She'd have to give it some thought.

Harry looked around the platform at all of the returning students. Was it just him or were the boys of Hogwarts more attractive than they used to be?

Harry had been subject to his first ever erotic dream over the summer. He'd dreamed that Charlie Weasley had walked in on Harry in the shower, yanked the shower curtain aside and ravished him up against the cool tiles of the bathroom. When he'd awoken, he had been supremely embarrassed to find his midsection was sticky and rapidly cooling. With a furtive glance over at Ron's snoring form, Harry pulled his wand out from under his pillow and cast a Drying Charm.

The wet dreams continued throughout the following weeks, featuring a multitude of different partners whom had had their way with Harry's body. He'd realized after just three nights that his subconscious seemed fixated on men. Hot, sweaty, naked men. After spending two days in denial he'd given up and admitted to himself that he was gay. And he'd apparently located his previously absent libido.

A shout of "HARRY!" from next to him brought him out of his thoughts. He looked left and met Hermione's scrutinizing gaze. She seemed about to speak when Seamus ran up and interrupted.

"There you guys are," the Irishman said. He pulled Harry to him and dug his knuckles into Harry's scalp, but the raven-haired boy hardly noticed. He was more focused on the warmth he felt on his cheek where it was squished to Seamus' toned chest. He fought his urge to blush and shoved his friend off of him.

"Hey, Seamus," Harry muttered, surreptitiously taking in the body of the boy – strike that! – man in front of him. Seamus had filled out quite nicely in the last few months and Harry barely managed to stop his chin from dropping to the ground. "You're looking… tan," he finished lamely.

Seamus winked and, much to Harry's horror, he lost control of his blush and felt his cheeks heat up. He also noticed that his nether regions had taken notice.

Luckily, no one noticed as Seamus had gone around hugging everyone present. Harry just wanted to get on the Hogwarts Express and sit down before he embarrassed himself.

"Ron, we shouldn't neglect our duties just because you didn't get enough breakfast," Hermione sighed in resignation while she watched Ron dump half a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans into his mouth.

"I'm not going out there until I know for sure that Malfoy is done patrolling the corridors," Ron managed through his overstuffed mouth.

"You're impossible, Ron," Hermione huffed. "Someday you're going to have to get over this childish rivalry with him. He came out on the good side of the war in the end."

"I still can't believe McGonagall is letting him back into school. He's such a…"

Harry was only half listening to the argument, which was similar to the petty squabbles he'd been subjected to every day over the summer. With Ron and Hermione getting closer to admitting their attraction to each other, their bickering had become almost unbearable. But he didn't dare to call them out on fighting like a married couple. No, no, no. He'd learned his lesson. Last time Harry had done that, Hermione had hexed him with a very painful rash between his arse cheeks that had persisted for days.

Before long, Harry drifted off to sleep, accompanied by the sound of his best friends arguing and Ginny's humming.

"Oh yeah, Seamus! Right there!" Harry moaned into the wall he was pushed up against.

"You like that, do you?" Seamus grunted out, thrusting back into Harry's tight hole.

Harry turned his head to look behind him into Seamus' eyes before smashing their lips together in a searing kiss. All the while, Seamus was pumping in and out of Harry's arse, setting a furious pace. Suddenly, Harry felt his orgasm building, racing through his veins. He released his hold on Seamus' lips before shouting.

"Oh Merlin, I'm gunna—"

"CUMMM!" Harry awoke with a shout, feeling himself explode and coat the inside of his trousers. He was brought out of his daze when he heard Ginny's embarrassed gasp beside him. Harry froze, looking through wide eyes at the redheaded girl next to him. He vaguely noticed that Ron and Hermione were no longer there and assumed that they were on patrol. Thank Merlin!

Ginny stared back, wishing she could reverse time and not witness Harry having a wet dream. She'd heard him murmuring in his sleep and had at first thought he was having a nightmare, perhaps a flashback to the Final Battle. But then she heard him moan something that sounded suspiciously like 'Seamus' and realized what was actually happening. From then on she couldn't force herself to turn away or flee the compartment.

"Um…" Ginny started to say.

Harry dropped his head into his hands, thinking 'why, me?' and trying to come up with an explanation quickly. When he finally looked up, he noticed that Ginny's expression had changed from horrified to mischievous.

"Nice dream, then?" she said innocently, though the smirk she sported ruined any attempt at that image.

Harry groaned pathetically. "You witnessed that, did you." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, you are sitting right next to me," Ginny replied. Then her smirk turned wicked as she continued. "Did you know that you talk in your sleep?"

Harry's head jerked towards her.

"Um…what?" he squeaked.

"Oh yes," she said, all embarrassment replaced by amusement in her eyes. "Sounded like you were having a good time with your dream-version of a certain Irish 8th year."

Harry dropped his head back into his hands and wished the seat he sat in would swallow him up. No one knew he'd come to fancy boys, and he had hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible.

"You won't—you won't tell anyone, will you? I haven't even told Ron or Hermione."

Ginny saw the abject terror and pleading in his emerald eyes and felt her amusement dim. She decided not to torture him too much.

"Well I don't know…" she drawled. "Harry Potter, The Savior, GAY?! This could be some juicy gossip for the whole school."

At this, Harry's jaw dropped. Ginny had just sounded positively Slytherin.

"B-b-but," Harry tried desperately to speak. Ginny relented.

"Okay, Mr. Hero. I promise not to tell anyone," she said while pulling her pseudo-brother to her to plant a kiss on his temple. "But, I want to know details. Every dirty thing!"

Harry grinned up at her. He'd just found himself a confidante.

Harry joined his friends on the carriage ride to the castle, sitting next to a smug looking Ginny. When Ron had asked her why she looked so self-satisfied, she'd simply told him to shove off. Harry had breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Looking around the Great Hall, Harry found himself gawking at the pristine condition. He knew that wizards and witches from all over the British Isles and even the continent had come to help in the repair of Hogwarts, but he had not expected it to look like there had never been a battle. The only difference that even hinted at the war was the banner behind the staff table. Instead of the usual Hogwarts banner, there was a sign done up in all of the House colors that proclaimed, "FALLEN, BUT NOT FORGOTTEN."

Once he'd taken in the room, Harry turned his attention to his Housemates. His gaze wandered over those at his table and he couldn't stop the thoughts in his head, though he tried not to show any outward sign that his libido was rising. 'Since when did Dean grow so tall, and when had Neville's jawline developed into such a masculine look?' He skipped over Seamus—because he was certain the boy had a clue as to his earlier reaction—and Ron, because Ron was his brother in all but blood.

Looking away from the Gryffindors, Harry took in some of the other boys Hogwarts had to offer. He noticed Michael Corner of Ravenclaw had grown out of his acne and into his ears and, ignoring the snooty look on his face, he looked rather handsome. At the Hufflepuff table, Ernie Macmillan was looking very cute, though he looked younger than the rest of the 8th years; perhaps he would age better than the rest…

Harry was brought out of his contemplation when Ron leaned into him too quickly, knocking their heads together.

"Bloody Hell, Ron!" Harry growled. "Watch where you put that big head of yours." This sent Hermione into giggles, and caused Ron's face to heat up.

"Sorry, mate," Ron responded, rubbing his forehead. "I was just trying to get a better view of which Slytherins came back to complete their N.E.W.T.S."

Harry craned his neck but couldn't get a very good view of the Slytherin table across the hall. There were too many heads in the way for that. It hardly mattered because at that moment, Headmistress McGonagall stood and cleared her throat. The Great Hall fell silent, though not as quickly as it had for Dumbledore, Harry noticed. He was strangely absent any pangs of sadness. But it had been a year, and seeing the man in the 'other world'—as he had dubbed the place where he'd gone when he'd died—had helped him to lay his anger and sadness aside. It was for this very reason that Harry had been able to move on so quickly after the Final Battle; he knew that those who'd passed on had ended up in a peaceful place, away from the effects of war.

"My dear students," McGonagall began. "I cannot tell you how it warms my heart to see so many of you back to continue your education." At this, she broke off with her emotions catching in her throat. Professor Flitwick handed her his handkerchief which she used to dab at her eyes. Harry and Ginny shared a grin at Hermione's similarly teary eyes.

"This is the beginning of a new era in our world, a time of rebuilding lost connections, reacquainting with friends and of course, a new school year," she continued. At this, some of the students groaned, not looking forward to having to do homework again. After all, they'd spent the whole summer in celebrations for Harry and those that fought alongside him. They'd toasted Voldemort's death, for the first time using his name instead of avoiding it out of fear. The only reading to be done had been what the press was writing about Harry and Rita Skeeter's daily articles delving into the life of Tom Riddle, mistreated youth-turned Dark Lord.

"Now, now," McGonagall chided. "Let us not complain that we are able to go back to the mundane life of school and homework. It is a gift to be back, and I hope you each feel as lucky as I to be back." At this, Harry stood and cheered, followed swiftly by most of the other students in the Great Hall. Again, Harry couldn't see past the other students to see the Slytherins. Oh, the joys of being full head shorter than all of his classmates. He couldn't see a thing.

Minerva waited for the cheering to die down before continuing, "We have officially stricken the previous school year from the record. Everything that took place, prefects chosen, exams passed or failed, and anything else that occurred has been nullified." She waited a few seconds for the murmurs to die down. Once they had, she smiled broadly, clearly pleased with the coming announcement.

"And because of the unusual summer spent rebuilding our beloved castle, we were unable to send out the usual notices in this year's school letters. Because of this it is my pleasure to announce who our Head Boy and Girl will be." At this, all of Hermione's restlessness returned full force. And to think she'd been doing such a good job of keeping still. After a year on the run, she'd found it hard to remain in one place for long, always pacing about or running miles to stay fit. In fact, the only stillness she usually found was when reading.

"Due to the return of our 8th year students, we have two sets of students to choose from. After much careful thought and discussion between myself and the staff, we have decided to choose a Head Boy and Girl from both the 7th and 8th year classes," McGonagall finished.

At this pronouncement, the Great Hall exploded in excited whispering. Harry looked at Hermione and chuckled to himself. She had gone completely white. Ron laughed out loud before finally speaking.

"Look at you, Hermione," he said, leaning over Harry to speak with the brunette. "I haven't seen you look this nervous since before we took the O. ."

Hermione's cheeks reddened in embarrassment as she began to speak. "Just because you don't care about your own success doesn't mean I have to be just as apathetic, Ronald. I happen to care about my future, now that Voldemort is gone and I know I'll be able to live safely and actually find a career. Being Head Girl would open up more opportunities for me!"

By the time she had finished, Hermione was dragging angry breaths in and exhaling in a huff. Ron looked like he was facing the Dark Lord himself, and Harry couldn't help laughing at both of them, though on the inside. He had no death wish.

"When I announce you name, please come to the front to collect your badge," the Headmistress said before pulling out a small scroll that, Harry assumed, had the four names of the students to become all-powerful, in a strictly non-crazy-dark-lord way of course.

"First, from 7th year—Genevra Weasley!" The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers. Ginny, face redder than her fiery hair, slowly stood and walked to the staff table where McGonagall waited. She was grinning from ear to ear from excitement, pride, and a large amount of embarrassment. Harry couldn't stop the grin that came in his excitement for his friend and confidante. Once Ginny had made it to the front, McGonnagall continued.

"Kevin Entwhistle!" she announced. The Ravenclaw table was the one to explode in noise this time. Harry watched as a boy he'd never seen before walked forward. He was almost as cute as Seamus, in Harry's opinion, but didn't have quite the same sex appeal.

After a moment, the students had settled again, allowing for the normally stern Headmistress to continue.

"Now, from the 8th year—Hermione Granger!" Gryffindor erupted again into cheers and Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair, though she didn't move from her seat. "Miss Granger, if you'll please join us up front," McGonagall said, a spark of amusement appearing in her eyes. The brunette finally rose from her seat and practically ran to the front.

"Finally, our 8th year Head Boy will be…" Minerva paused for dramatic effect. After all, someone had to keep Albus' mischievousness alive.

At this, the entire Great Hall focused their stares on Harry, assuming that it was a lock that The Saviour would be chosen. Harry shrunk down further in his seat, trying to avoid as many of those stares as possible. People started murmuring to those around them before turning and looking expectantly at the Headmistress.

"Draco Malfoy."

All sound stopped and the room took a collective breath as if trying to understand what McGonagall had actually said. Surely she wouldn't choose a Slytherin as Head Boy…

Harry watched as Draco stood, seeing him for the first time. The boy who had been his greatest rival at school had grown into a man, his body filling out the sharp angles he used to sport. He now looked muscular, strong, and not at all the pale, pointy boy he had been. His jaw had grown more chiseled, and his eyes had gone from gray to the most spectacular silver.

Those eyes turned and immediately landed on Harry. The moment they did, Harry felt his breath leave him in one giant rush, leaving him gaping at this beautiful specimen of man. He noticed that Malfoy's pale face tinged pink under his scrutiny. He finally turned away and walked to the front of the room, joining the others. Harry continued to stare, noticing that Malfoy walked with purpose and confidence. Lost was the arrogant strut of the spoiled prat he had once been. In his place was Draco Malfoy, inheritor of the wizarding world's largest fortune, and surely the most handsome man on Earth.

Harry could feel his body responding to the sight. 'Oh no,' he thought. 'This is going to be a difficult year.'

Draco walked back to his seat in a daze. When he'd stood up, his eyes had automatically turned to seek out Potter. He hadn't meant to, it'd just happened. He'd always been drawn to the git. And then when he found the messy boy their eyes locked. Draco briefly noticed that the boy was no longer as unkempt as he had once been. For one, his hair was no longer a raven's nest. Potter had grown his wavy black hair out, just passed his ears. The longest strands curled up just a bit, giving him a look of innocence. Also, he'd ditched his glasses and had, Draco assumed, gotten a magical cure.

Other than the physical changes, Draco had noticed the better clothing Potter wore under his robes. Instead of the worn out, too-large rags he'd shown up wearing previous years, Potter now wore newer, well-tailored clothing that suited his slight frame perfectly. His jumper was green, highlighting the boy's emerald eyes and Draco had to force himself to look away lest he become hopelessly captivated.

As he sat back down in his seat, he looked up and subconsciously sought out Potter again. 'Blast,' he thought. 'Of course he's too damn short to see across the room.'

Ah well, he'd have to content himself with fingering his new Head Boy badge. Shocking that, to come back to Hogwarts to be made Head Boy. Many had protested his return to the school. Indeed, many had even lobbied that he should have been sent to Azkaban along with the rest of his family.

Thanks to superior legal representation from the Malfoy family's personal solicitor, and none other than Potter's testimony of his and his mother's actions, they'd been spared the fate of a life rotting away in a prison. Granted, his parents were now under a semi-permanent house arrest, allowed out for approved Ministry events and nothing else. But, Draco was just happy that he was able to keep them in his life.

Draco had been made head of the Malfoy family and fortunes, unbeknownst to most of the world, and had then been charged a hefty fine for his family's war crimes. Despite the fact that the sentence had drained an entire vault of the Malfoy wealth, Draco was hardly worried. They had hundreds just like it, not to mention properties all over Europe. No, the Malfoy family would be fine, and Draco was free to do his best to change the reputation his father had cultivated.

He glanced around, seeing if anyone had noticed his attention wandering. Of course, no one had. Only two of his actual friends, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, had returned to complete their schooling. The others were either in jail or dead. Draco preferred not to think about it. He turned his attention back to his two best friends sitting across from him and joined in their argument, all thoughts of his reaction to Potter forgotten for the time being.

Harry sat down heavily in his favorite chair by the fire. Of all the rewards and special attention he'd received for defeating Voldemort, Harry liked this one the best. Out of respect, this chair, which all of his Housemates knew to be his preferred seat, was left empty.

He stared into the fire and ignored the bickering of Ron and Hermione, wishing they'd just shag and be done with it. Though the fired burned bright and orange, all Harry could see was molten silver. He'd been unable to get rid of the feelings he'd had when staring into those eyes. Eyes that belonged to his former rival. Eyes that belonged on the man he'd once thought was evil and capable of murder.

He'd heard the real reasons why Malfoy had concocted all of his stupid schemes in 6th year. He'd been threatened with the death of his family if he didn't kill Dumbledore, and what 16 year old wizard wouldn't have cracked and bowed to the pressure? Harry knew that if his own parents had been alive, he'd have done much the same thing to save him, so he could hardly hold a grudge for the boy's actions.

Furthermore, it appeared as if the boy who'd been at Hogwarts had died, replaced with a new, more mature Malfoy. One who looked like he was ready to be a man, get his education and make something of himself. How Harry knew all of this from a single, albeit intense, look he didn't know. But his intuition told him that was the case, and he'd learned to trust his intuition. It had saved his life multiple times.

Harry was pulled from his contemplation when a pillow, thrown by Hermione of all people, sailed passed her intended target of Ron and hit him squarely in the face.

He blinked in shock and then took in Hermione's guilty face. Glancing at Ron, he saw that the redhead boy looked more shocked than Harry felt.

All of a sudden, another pillow flew by Harry's head, coming from somewhere behind him to hit Ron in the face.

"That," Ginny said smugly, putting her wand away from where she'd used it to direct the pillow's trajectory, "is how to properly throw a pillow."

Hermione's face lit up in glee even as she tried to conceal her giggles. Harry didn't even attempt to hold back his laughter. Ron's face was priceless; he sputtered for a moment before glaring at Ginny, and then glancing between Harry and Ron.

"Is that any way for our joint-Head Girls to act?" Ron said with well-cultivated mock-insult.

At this, both Hermione and Ginny lost their composure and began laughing, almost a cackle to Harry's ears.

"They're going to be dangerous this year," he said to Ron through his laughter.

After a few more moments of laughter, they settled down and Ginny dragged her chair over to join the trio. When she caught Harry's eye, she winked, causing him to blush. Of course, since they were sitting by the fire, no one should notice. Harry never saw Hermione's speculative look.

"Where are we supposed to sleep?" Ron asked out of the blue. "I mean, it's not like we can keep our dorm, since the new 7th years will be moving in there tonight."

"Oh, didn't you read the reverse side of the welcome letter?" Hermione asked him. "It said that all 8th years would be staying in the East Tower together. We'll also share all of our classes together since there are so few of us."

Harry, having neglected the last page just like Ron, opened his eyes in surprise.

"You mean we'll be sharing dorms with Malfoy?" he choked. "And the other boys as well, I suppose," he added hastily in an attempt to cover his interest in Malfoy. It didn't work, and he could tell Ginny had noticed the blush creeping up his neck, if the way she raised her eyebrow was anything to go by. Hermione also noticed his reaction, though she was confused as to what it meant.

"No, Harry," she said in amusement. "We each get private rooms. We have to share bathrooms of course. But that's hardly anything to fuss about."

Hermione looked at the clock on the wall.

"Oh! Look at the time!" she yelled jumping up. "It's thirty minutes until curfew and we need to get settled into our new rooms."

And with that, she took off for the door like she was being chased. Harry and Ron waved goodbye to Ginny before also leaving the Gryffindor common room.

The East Tower common room seemed cozy. The color scheme was clearly meant to not favor any house, with its purples accented by a lovely cream color that Harry found he rather liked. There were two fireplaces, in opposite corners of the room, and the furniture was more modern than what Harry was used to in the Gryffindor common room. It looked comfortable though. The stairways to the dorms were located in the two corners not taken up with fireplaces. Harry and Ron went up the stairs labeled "Wizards" and looked for empty rooms.

Being the last two to arrive and select a room, there were only two left. Ron claimed the one next in between Neville and Blaise, and Harry located the last room without a name on it. It was at the end of the rather short hallway that ran between all of the boy's rooms, next to the bathroom. He opened the door and walked in.

As soon as Harry entered the room, all of his things magically appeared, as did a House Elf. Harry felt a brief pang of sadness at the loss of the world's bravest House Elf, Dobby. But after a moment, he realized the elf had been talking the whole time.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked quietly.

"Is Master Harry wanting his room changed to Gryffindor colors?" he squeaked. "Ridi can change them if this is being Master Harry's wish, sir."

Harry crouched down until he was nearly eye to eye with the small elf and smiled.

"That would be wonderful, Ridi. Thank you," Harry responded, bowing his head just slightly. "And please, just call me Harry."

"Oh, yes sir!" squeaked the visibly excited elf as he bounced while bowing. "Reedy is doing whatever Master—Ridi means Harry is wanting."

And with that, the elf snapped his fingers and the room changed from the purple and cream into scarlet and gold, though more tasteful than in the actual Gryffindor tower. The duvet was a deep red, almost black, set with bright scarlet and gold embroidering. The curtains were the same dark color, and instead of carpet, the floor was a polished stone.

Harry slipped his shoes off and was delighted to discover the Warming Charm beneath his feet. He opened his trunk to get his toiletries and then proceeded to walk out from his room.

And right into Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was not prepared for when someone ran right into him. They fell to the ground together, Draco landing roughly on his back and the other boy on top of him.

"What the fuck?!" Draco shouted, lowering his gaze to see who his attacker was. He was shocked to find Potter staring up at him with bright, round, and frightened eyes.

"I'm s-s-sorry, Malfoy!" Potter sputtered, trying to hastily remove himself from Draco's person. Potter's face had gone as scarlet as the hand towel he carried, and Draco could feal the pulses of fear radiating from him like a heartbeat.

"It's fine, Potter," he said, breaking eye contact to pick himself up off of the floor. "Just watch where you're going. You survived the Dark Lord's wrath, so I'd hate to have to kill you out of sheer annoyance."

Potter just gaped back at him, clearly not knowing how to respond to a Malfoy who joked around. Draco smirked and then sauntered into the bathroom, fighting the urge to look back and see if Potter was still staring. He knew his arse looked good in his silk sleeping pants.

Harry stood, transfixed on the spot Malfoy had just left. He'd made a fool out of himself by running right into the very person he'd been thinking about the whole evening. Not only had he run into him, but he'd sent them crashing to the floor, landing with his face on Malfoy's muscular chest.

Harry had barely been able to squeak out an apology, he was so embarrassed. It didn't help that Malfoy's gaze, combined with the feel of his body, had made Harry immediately hard. He stood, carefully concealing his bulge behind his towel.

And then Malfoy had made a joke and Harry had been incapable of thought. The man's face was gorgeous, now that it didn't feature a permanent sneer. While Harry just stood there frozen, covering his physical rection, Malfoy smirked and then walked into the bathroom, swaying his hips back and forth. Harry's eyes had glued themselves to the firm, rounded cheeks of Malfoy's bum which looked incredible in the thin material of his sleeping pants. He was pretty sure that the boy was wearing no underwear.

Once the blonde was through the door and out of sight, Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, willed his erection down and followed him into the bathroom. He tried his best not to look at Malfoy as he stepped up to brush his teeth at the sink next to the reformed Death Eater. He stared at his own reflection and counted his brush strokes, all part of his simple plan to keep his attention from straying to the model of a man next to him.

It almost worked too.

Malfoy reached with his left hand for the glass of water on the back of the sink, and Harry couldn't help but look at the exposed, pale flesh. There was no Dark Mark.

"You don't—" Harry began to say without thinking, toothbrush still in his mouth. He clamped his jaw shut to stop himself from finishing his question.

The blonde turned and looked Harry directly in the eye, a half-hearted sneer on his face. Malfoy appeared visibly upset at the question he knew Harry had almost asked.

"What, Potter?" he asked sharply. "I don't have the Mark? That's what you were going to ask wasn't it?"

Harry had the grace to look ashamed. He had told himself and he had believed that Malfoy had never truly been a Death Eater. He'd been coerced to do Voldemort's bidding. Having an evil madman threatening your mother's life left you with few options at the age of sixteen. Harry had said he was going to give Malfoy a chance, perhaps strike up a long overdue friendship, but he may have just shot himself in the proverbial foot.

"Shit, Malfoy," Harry said, looking down at the sink in front of him. "I'm sorry about that. I know your reasons for the things you did. I shouldn't have blurted that out."

When Harry looked back up, Malfoy was still staring at him intently but the sneer was gone.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm a bit touchy about the subject." And with that, Malfoy gathered his things left the room.

Harry groaned at himself in the mirror. He had spoken without thought, his brain-to-mouth filter unsurprisingly absent, and made an arse of himself. 'Well, that went well. I wonder how long I'll go tomorrow before I insult him,' he thought acerbically. The black-haired wizard had changed a lot over the last two years, but one thing that had not changed was his uncanny ability to stick his own foot in his mouth.

He spit out the toothpaste and rinsed his mouth out before leaving the bathroom and turning immediately and entering his own room. He was still unaware that the blonde his thoughts focused on lay in a bed separated only by a stone wall.

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End Chapter One
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A/N: Hey guys, it's been a very long time since I have written any fanfic, so this is my first venture. When I began writing it, it was supposed to be a bit of fluff. However, there's this plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone, so I gave in and started writing what will probably be a novel-length story. Oops. Let me know what you think!