Disclaimer: This is just your standard bullshit disclaimer that lets everyone know that I don't own these characters. Just the naughty things I've made them do. Seriously though, don't sue me. I'm just a poor penniless little girl. Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. Crossover series (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belong to their respective parties. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators/ copyright holders is intended.

Rating: There's a lot of sex and some drug use, and a lot of sex. So I've got to rate it R for most of it but there will be a lot of naughty thoughts and actions that will justify my secondary rating of NC-17 not to mention the sex. So no children allowed.

Author's Note: I just wanted to point out a few things that may be helpful in reading/reviewing this story.

1. (And I think this is the most important of all of them, hence the number one) I AM NOT A GUY! I have no idea what being a guy is like or guy on guy sex.

2. I am not British. I think I may have the basics of brit slang but being an American I just don't give a fuck if I use it correctly or at all. So if I say ass instead of arse it's because I hate the word arse (bad example) but I do love oi. I might use it a lot.

3. Spare me all of the, "gay and lesbians are disgusting" blah blah "immoral" blah "going to hell" blah blah "children's book you disgusting pervert" flames because I really do get enough of it in my head.

4. For some reason I've chucked myself into Malfoy's head so every time his brain is speaking like this: **blah, blah, blah** it's me and I have no idea why I did it, I just like it better that way. Gives Malfoy someone to talk to.

¤¤Draco's POV¤¤

Potions, it could be my most favorite class. I've always been adept at potions. Not that I'm amazing at it or anything it's just that I have a skill and a keen eye so I do well and it has everything to do with aptitude. It's just something I can get into, and having the teacher always on my side is a plus too. I could throw anything I wanted at Potty, the Weasel, and the Mud-blood in this class. I could call them by these horrible names and Snape would act as if I'd said nothing.

Potty, Weasel, and the Mud-blood. Gryffindor's dream team, well the dream team was broken up in potions. That's another plus to this class. The Mud-blood has to work with Neville today. Neville, that hapless oaf. He couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the directions were written on the heal.

That left Potty and the Weasel to work together. Saint Potter, hero of the wizarding world. I hate him so much. It had all started when he had turned down my friendship. My friendship is worth more than anyone else's because I am a Malfoy. A higher class of wizard. Better than Mud-bloods or a Weasley.

I'm staring again aren't I? I have been staring at the Weasel ever since we got back to Hogwarts. I don't know when exactly that little red haired vixen had bewitched me with his good looks but now I am completely enthralled. I had probably always thought he was attractive on some level. Some very hidden closeted level in my mind.

Gay. I'm gay. That's nothing new here though. This school should just be called Homowarts (or something that doesn't sound so much like an STD) School of Gays, Lesbians, and bisexuals for all of them they turn out. Out of a class of fifty half will be gay or bi. Even Crabbe and Goyle are gay.

I've never had sex with a man but I can't imagine it's any different than having sex with a girl, except maybe where you stick it. I've been having sex with girls since I was fourteen. Such things were expected of me and I complied. Not that it wasn't fun. I loved sleeping with girls, but eventually the wonderful feeling left me and it was just a routine I continued.

I would have continued this pattern probably forever if it hadn't been for, what was his name, Gustav, or something foreign like that. He was one of my father's friend's sons. He had brown hair that, when it caught the sun, glowed red and it had been erotic. Even Gustav, or whatever, had noticed how much it turned me on because one day I went up to my room and he was there. He kissed me and it lead to him giving me head and then I avoided him and he left three days later.

That was the summer before my fifth year of school. During the next year I had discovered that it wasn't all boys that made me crazy with lust. Some were just attractive, some weren't, and some were so hot that I couldn't keep my eyes, or hands, off of them. There was one, one which I hated myself for liking, that is so perfect I can't contain myself sometimes. One that I can never seem to get off of my mind, one that every time I close my eyes to pleasure myself it's him I see.

Weasley.

He has a sexy mouth, and deep blue eyes, and all of that rich red hair. I used to think that the Weasley family was like lint on my jacket, which I still do, but now I see something else too. So I've been secretly adoring, and despising, Weasley since last year. Wanting very much to kick him in the head as long as it doesn't permanently damage that beautiful face.

Luckily every time he notices I'm looking at him I can pretend to be glowering at Potter. It fools them because I have trained my face to always look like I despise everything I'm looking at but my housemates see through it. They know the real reason I'm staring over at the Gryffindor table, although I think they think I like Potter. Sick. They also know that I'm gay, or they think I'm bi, those nosey fucking bastards. It's hard to keep a secret in Slytherin.

This year when Potty and the Weasel came back there was something different about them. They paid less attention to the Mud-blood and more to each other. It's not like it was obvious, you have to be paying an immense amount of attention to them last year to notice the change this year. At first I thought they had found out that the Mud-blood had been having wild passionate sex with Pansy Parkinson all last year. Pansy and The Mud-blood weren't even careful about it. The Mud-blood spent so much time in the Slytherin dorms she was given the password. They would go at it anywhere they wanted, the floor in front of the fireplace, the couches, chair, the stairwell, and any bed they could find. It was liberating everyone else to be so free as well. When they would start going at it any guy in the room who was straight or bi or got a thrill from watching two girls go at it would just whip it out and begin to work on themselves right there. Everyday walking through the common room was like walking through one big orgy.

It wouldn't be so bad, it would be perfect, if I didn't have this stupid schoolboy crush. I hate Weasley, but it's only a hate that will last as long as we aren't kissing. I decided that no matter what happened this year I was going to break Weasley's hold on me and I would no longer want him.

Did Potter just brush his hand over Weasley's?

Obviously, so far it's going terribly. I thought it would help once I figured out that what was different between Potty and the Weasel was sex but it didn't. It only made it worse because now I'm jealous and angry and mostly jealous. I hate that Potter gets to touch Weasley and kiss Weasley and make him scream. I hate Potter now more than I did before, if it's at all possible.

I'm still staring at him. Damn it just cut the liver wart. Cut, cut, cut. It's perfect, of course it is, I'm a wiz at potions. Goyle can just sit there and do nothing. That is, after all, what I told him to do. The big lunk would just mess everything up anyway. I moved all of the ingredients over to my side of the table, along with the cauldron. The last thing I want is for him to knock something into it or knock it over.

Weasley has nice thighs, quidditch is doing his body good. I'm really glad he took off his school robes. I bet I could reach over this table and touch his thigh. It would make the muscle jump under my hand, right before he punched me in the face.

Stop looking at Weasley! Damn it why doesn't Potter ask him to put the stuff in the middle of the table? Does he have to keep brushing against him like that? Weasley's all done with whatever the great and famous Harry Potter allowed him to do so now maybe they'll trade places so Potter can have proper access to the cauldron and the ingredients. No really just keep leaning all over him Potter, bloody poof.

Did Weasley just touch Potter's leg?! No way, not in class he wouldn't. Yes he did, he's rubbing on him right in the middle of class! Am I the only one who can see this?

I turn my head violently but no, no one sees this but me. Goyle would be the only other person who could if he weren't practically asleep.

Now he's undoing his pants! This must stop! Think what can I do? I can hurdle over this table and beat Potter into the floor. No. I can scream at Weasley to keep his hands out of Potter's pants. That would stop him from touching him but he'd also get thrown out of class. But he would do that sexy blush thing. Did Potter just thrust into Weasley's hand?! Jaw clamped, eyes as well, and Weasley's hand is moving, I can see the muscles flex through his shirt! Do something, anything.

"Professor Snape," I nearly scream at him.

Get yourself under control. He stopped! Yes and Potter is doing up his pants. No fun for Potter! Ha ha! That's what you get.

"Yes Mr. Malfoy," Snape asks me gliding over to my station.

What the hell does he want. Can you not see that I am gloating? I just stopped Potter from getting a hand job in your class. Oh wait, I called you didn't I? What can I say?

I look over the table quickly, my eyes landing on the nearly perfectly cut liver wart that I pushed over by Goyle when I called for Snape.

"Goyle is cutting the liver wart wrong. I need a new partner," I lie, if he looked at it he'd see it's perfect but he doesn't and I nearly scream at him that Weasley doesn't have anything to do while his eyes flash around the room.

"Weasley," Snape says and I nearly cheer out loud.

"Yes professor," he says in a tiny voice.

"Change partners with Malfoy," Snape barks.

My smile falls away and I look questioningly at Snape. He's giving me Potter? I wanted Weasley and he's sending Potter! Any other day I would be happy to torture Potter but I want Weasley. I look over at Goyle but he's still confused about the liver wart incident. I see Weasley look over at Potter from the corner of my eye and I think my head may actually catch fire. At this point I don't care if Potter does have to come and sit by me. At least he'll be away from Weasley.

"Goyle and Weasley change seats," Snape says with a large sigh then turns and walks back to his desk.

I nearly cheer again. A good hearty guffaw, but I've trained my face to hold a smirk and I go about straightening the desk. I have no idea why other than the thought that Weasley thinks I'm messy is a horrible one. I hear a snicker from Weasley and look up to see Goyle trading stools with him. That complete moron.

Snape's face turns red and he yells at Goyle. "Goyle get out! Leave my class at once! Go and sit out in the hall!" Snape bellows from behind his desk, "if you can't even follow a simple instruction like change your seat the there is no way you can accomplish such a difficult potion as this is."

Goyle snatches up his things and tears out into the hallway. Not many people would know this but Goyle is a lot like a cat. He's resilient and defiant, not to me, but one embarrassment and he'll run and hide. He might even cry. He hates to look like an imbecile, which is odd because that's what he is.

"Weasley grab that stool and take a seat next to Malfoy," Snape yells while reseating himself behind his desk.

Weasley takes the stool and his throws his things down angrily on the table. I know he's unhappy about being moved over to me but I don't care. He's by me now and not Potter. He's sitting as far away as he can with out sitting in the isle but it's at my table now, not Potter's. I'm smirking, I know I am but inside I'm screaming in joy. Weasley is muttering. I can't make out what exactly it is but it doesn't matter because he's by me now.

"You should finish cutting up the liver wart," I instruct him, my voice not revealing in the least how excited I am.

He just glares at me for a moment before complying. He has to or else I'll tell Snape and he'll get in trouble. Potter, that bastard, keeps peeking over his shoulder at Weasley. Too bad now, Potter, he's mine for the next thirty minutes. Weasley looks up at Potter. Don't look at him, damn it, I'm a Malfoy. You're supposed to look at me.

Why the hell am I willing to throw myself at Weasley if I am such a 'Malfoy'?

Stop this! Work! I begin to measure out the dragon's bane trying desperately to ignore the red haired god sitting next to me. He looked at me! I saw him, and it wasn't in an 'I hate you Malfoy you stupid git' way. It was quizzical. Why did he look at me like that?

Harry is looking back again. Doesn't that boy ever get tired of staring at Weasley? Why would he? You don't. Damn it if Weasley smiles at him...

"Are you almost done with that Weasley, or do you need to wait until the potion boils away?" I ask angrily.

No more flirting with Potter! No more... what the fuck did he do to my perfect liver wart? He's hopeless at potions, it's almost adorable. But he's completely ruining it. I hope he stops before he does completely ruin it. Time for the belladonna, I've already done the dragon's bane and... don't push that at me. You ruined it you put it in. Now belladonna, you put in exactly.

What?! What are you... Weasley is touching me. He's right in front of me, two inches from my face. His perfect little ear is right in front of my mouth. I could just flick out my tongue and touch it. Am I panting? He's so close I could just touch, I could grab him and kiss him, I could run my hands through that thick red hair, I could pull him into my lap and... He's moving back over to his seat. He's upset? Why? I'm the one being tortured. He's pouting, oh for the love of, does he have to be sexy all of the time? Can't just once he go back to being annoying or something like that? His lower lip just hanging out like that just makes me want to grab it, with my teeth. I could just pull him over to me. I have got to stop this. I have got to work. I have got to...

"Is that all you needed? Cause then I'll go back to my seat now," he asks angrily.

I can't look at him, I can't talk to him. All I want to do is jump him. All I can do is push the wolf's bane and a breaker at him. I hope he can't tell how turned on I am. Damn it, just measure out this fucking, what the hell am I holding?

He' standing by me again, working over me. Only this time his arm is pushed up against my chest. I can still see that bitable ear but now I can see his neck too. It's flesh, Weasley's flesh, Ron's, and it's displayed out in front of me. I want to touch it. I want to kiss it, lick it, bite it, mark him as mine. He's done pouring, I'm sure of it, but he hasn't moved. He's still leaning over me, arm across my chest, my breath on his neck and, oh no, I'm getting hard. This cannot be happening. But it is, he's still sprawled across me.

That's it, I'm just going to kiss his neck and be done with it. I begin to lower my head to his neck when he pulls back. He's looking at Harry again. That must have been what he was doing for so long, blocking my view so he could tell Potter he loves him or something. Potter's not looking at him but he just keeps staring.

That's it, just grab a vile. Who gives a shit what it is, if it's liquid just pour it and it will take his mind off of Potter and they'll be no more flirting.

I dump the vile over Weasley's leg before I realize what was in the vile. I set it swiftly on the table in front of Weasley hoping it won't singe off anything I like. I've heard of Hecate's inferno before and from what I'd heard it isn't something I want to happen to me. I can't believe I just dumped that on him.

Should I say something to him before it soaks through his pants? I don't want to hurt him, I just want him to stop looking at Potter. Tell him, tell him, tell him.

Uh oh, it's soaked through. He's jumped off of his stool and if fell behind him with a loud thud and he's working like a maniac to unbuckle his belt. He's not really going to take off his pants, right? I mean that is just my imagination thinking he's going to take off his pants.

The entire class is crowding around us as he finally gets his fingers to work and undoes his pants and strips them from his toned body and throws them away like a muggle stripper. He looks around and blushes, everyone is staring at him. His legs are more toned than I anticipated and even more sexy. I want to reach out and touch them but there is a large bright blue spot covering his right thigh. He really looks like he's in pain. I could reach out and kiss him, I could do other things to make him forget all about the pain.

Snape is talking. When did he get there? What is he saying? Pay a-bloody-ttention.

"... it will wear off of course but it will hurt one hell of a lot until then. Go down to the infirmary, you're of no further use in this class." Snape is saying to Weasley.

It will wear off, see, no permanent damage and I'm really sorry, Ron.

Did I just apologize? Even in my head I know it's wrong, Malfoys do not apologize.

Weasley tries to walk but the look of utter pain that lashes his beautiful face makes me cringe inwardly. I hurt him. I caused him this much pain. He is a beautiful red hair god sent down to walk amongst the mortals and I have abused him. How could I have been...

He's looking at Potter again. Damn it don't they ever get tired of looking lovingly into each other's eyes?

"Professor," Weasley says through clenched teeth.

He sounds so hurt. I've damaged him. What if he never gets better? No, don't be stupid, Snape said that it would wear off.

"Yes, Weasley," Snape asks in a bored voice.

'Yes Weasley'?! He's in pain you enormous asshole. Help him! I'm going to make this up to you Weasley I promise.

"I don't think he can walk sir," Potter says holding his arm out in Weasley's direction.

Oh shut up Potter! He's a big boy, I'm sure he doesn't need you to talk for him like he's an invalid. Although he does look like he's in lots of pain. Oh Weasley, you're driving me insane! I can't take this much longer. I have to have you. No, I need to stay away from him. I'm hopeless.

"Didn't even dilute the solution? Yes, I suppose it's even worse than I described. The pain that is." Snape looks at Weasley for a moment as if weighing his options, "Goyle," He says finally, "take Weasley here to the infirmary."

No! No! I'll take him there! I'll make sure he gets there safe and sound and I'll make sure he feels better. Don't let Goyle do it. He might hurt my phoenix haired beauty. Merlin's beard, I'm two steps from the loony bin.

Goyle thunders in and picks Weasley up like a small child and storms out of the room with him. The Slytherin half of the class erupts into laughter and it's time to go to the next class.