I do not own Harry Potter. If I did I would be rich and, no, I'm most definitely not.

Malfoy was stunned. He was appalled. All the Griffindor had had to do was catch the snitch, his hair gleaming in the morning light, and Malfoy had got an erection.

Staying seated until his friends had left the stadium, having muttered something about 'strategies' and 'tactics' as an excuse, Malfoy finally stood up, wrapped his cloak around him despite the weather, and began to descend the stairs. Now alone, he allowed his thoughts to wander. The way Harry's long fingers had stretched out and curled around the fluttering ball. How his pink mouth had opened very slightly in concentration and anticipation.

Just as he was about to step out into the open, the back door of the changing rooms swung wide and out into the sunlight, it dancing across his wet muscular shoulders, stepped none other than Harry Potter.

Malfoy realised that Harry would be sheltered from the rest of the stadium, but here Malfoy was in the one spot where the back of the changing rooms were in full view. He flung himself into the space between the seats and the back of the stand and tried not to watch.

Malfoy was disgusted by how entranced he was by the sight of his enemy, gleaming in the sunshine, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Harry was rocking gently on his heels, allowing his shower fresh skin to dry in the light and warmth of the now midday sun. He shook his head, it seemed to Malfoy to be in slow motion, and the droplets of water spun around him in the air. His hair, now damp, sat untidily on his head looking tantalisingly sexy.

Tantalisingly sexy? Since when had Draco Malfoy, God of Slytherins everywhere, found that small, do-good, bespectacled freak 'sexy'? His thoughts were interrupted as Harry reached down and ran a finger along the line of skin where his towel touched his waist; his hips. To stop himself from crying out, Malfoy stuffed his fist in his mouth.

As Harry leant back to stretch his back and arms, the towel began to slide ever so slightly, to reveal several short dark hairs.

Malfoy choked and fell backwards into the wall. Harry spun round, hitched up his towel and stared across at the stadium.

Malfoy tried to stay as invisible as possible, until he realised Harry wasn't wearing his glasses and wouldn't be able to see him anyway.

Half-relieved, half-disappointed, Malfoy watched as Harry stalked back into the changing room and pulled the large door closed behind him.

Needless to say, Malfoy was not on his best form in the next Slytherin vs. Griffindor match.