A/N: I didn't really expect to start these so soon, but I figured it would be good to start something up again as JoM is ending soon. I plan to write at least ten ficlets, all set in Harry and Draco's sixth year, exploring the strain the war had on their relationship and some parts of the war in general. They may or may not be out of order, but they're fairly self-explanatory (I hope) and so it should probably make sense anyway. Cheers!


Draco skulked through the dark Hogwarts corridors, jerking nervously at every sound he heard. The shifting and creaking of the suits of armor echoed louder in his mind than front row at a Weird Sisters concert, and the snoring of the portraits was sending shooting, nervous pains through his chest.

He turned a corner when he reached the floor just above the dungeons. It was colder down here, and the walls were dingier, darker, and unpleasantly tinged with green.

Draco was about to stow his wand when he heard someone breathing about three feet from his face. His hands began to tremble.

"L-lumos," he hissed, pulling it out again. But no one was illuminated in the pool of light spilling from ten inches of hawthorn.

"Oh, go bugger yourself, Potter," Draco said, dropping his wand hand to his side.

A laughing Harry pulled the Invisibility cloak off of himself, rumpling his black hair further. "How'd you know it was me?"

"How many frequently invisible people do you know?" Draco shot back. "What are you doing, lurking around the castle in the middle of the night?" he added, fingering his prefect badge.

"I could ask you the same," Harry said, tilting his head and grinning.

"Don't," Draco said, but the corners of his lips curved upward slightly.

Harry's eyes drifted toward Draco's left wrist and he looked distant for a moment. "Actually, I was looking for you." He fingered a piece of parchment that was sticking out of his pocket slightly. Draco's eyebrows lifted.

"You, er, were talking to Slughorn the other day?"

"And?" Draco replied, shifting his weight to his right foot and studying Harry critically.

"Anything in particular?" Harry said, fiddling with the string of his pajama bottoms.

"Potter, I'm on your side, you know," Draco snapped. "There's no need to interrogate me."

"I'm not," Harry replied hastily. "It's just that Dumbledore wants me to, ah... Never mind. I was just wondering if it was anything important. Clearly not."

Draco watched as several states of agitation worked across Harry's face. He began to smirk. "Looking for me in the middle of the night... you're not horny, are you?"

"No," Harry said. "Although..."

"Although," Draco repeated, tapping his wand briefly against his bottom lip and watching Harry's eyes widen.

Harry let the Invisibility cloak slip from his shoulders and advanced on Draco, sliding his Quidditch-roughened hands over Draco's shoulders and meeting his eyes. "That might have had a bit to do with it."

"Nox," Draco said quietly, slipping his wand back into his sleeve. It rubbed slightly against the fresh Dark Mark and he winced internally.

Harry leaned in, accidentally biting Draco's bottom lip with eagerness, working his tongue against every open plane like a cheerful dog.

Draco closed his eyes, his mind elsewhere, on the Vanishing Cabinent in the Room of Requirement and Dumbledore's words:

Do what you must.

"Can we go back to your room?" Harry whispered in Draco's ear as Draco tugged at the crotch of the pajama bottoms, struck by a sudden need to grasp Harry's cock.

"Blaise has insomnia," Draco replied, sliding pale fingers across Harry's base. Harry moaned something unintelligible that had r's and m's in it and clutched Draco's shoulders tighter.

"So?" Harry replied, stamping his foot a little as if to say more, please and no, stop at the same time.

"What about your..."

"No, Dean's a light sleeper," Harry said immediately. "Merlin, yes, right under there..."

"Maybe you should go back to bed then," Draco said, drawing away from Harry slightly.

Harry grabbed his wrist. "No," he said, not bothering to conceal the urgency in his voice. "Isn't there... the Room of Requirement or something?"

Draco's stomach lurched unpleasantly. "What, you want to do it in the--"

"It's just a room," Harry said reasonably. "Preferably with a bed."

"Maybe we should both go to bed," Draco said, pulling away from Harry further.

Harry laughed self-consciously. "Isn't that sort of what I was getting at?"

"No, I mean," Draco said, "I have... class."

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Harry said, his voice tightening in the darkness.

"I'll see you around, Potter," Draco said lightly, brushing past Harry. "I'm going to bed."

When Draco was gone, Harry pulled the Maruader's map out of his pocket and watched as the dot labeled Draco Malfoy headed not for the dungeons below them, but straight for the Room of Requirement.