See chapter one for disclaimer, warnings and whatnot

Yup, I've got more, and a third part hopefully coming soon too! The first chapter was much to short and terribly unsatisfying... it was just the beginning.

Thank you's go out to NaughtypastryChef and The. Dragonfly. Lover for beta!
~TK

Over the next two weeks, Harry studiously avoided any contact with Malfoy.

He secluded himself in the library, finding the darkest table that was the furthest from the others. The choice of seating intensified Hermione's displeasure and she moaned about the quality of the lighting. This just made it all the better for Ron; he could use this as an excuse for his homework being improperly done.

He sat as far away from Malfoy in any of their shared classes, though this really wasn't much of a change. Classes were at least able to distract him-but only just. Hallways were a different matter. Harry found himself taking different routes so as to not run into the blond.

At meal times, he sat with his back to the rest of the Hall, despite how uneasy it made him feel. He told himself that he only imagined being watched. Luckily though, the Hall was always filled with students and teachers during dinner and lunch. Breakfast however, was the trickiest. Harry had tried to eat later, running the risk of being late for class. However, nine times out of ten, Malfoy arrived just after or right as Harry reached the Hall.

Harry did not fancy himself as a morning person, but he found that waking up early was the only way out. This did come with some advantages though; it gave him more time for any abandoned homework and extra study. At least, that's what he told Hermione. In actuality, he often found himself wandering down to the pitch with his broom, running a few laps before releasing a practice Snitch.

Friday morning had him squinting in the morning sunlight as he flew through the hoops of the pitch, looking for any signs of the Snitch. Spotting it hovering in the middle near the grass, he dove, instinct driving him on. His toes dragged over the ground as he reached for the glittering ball, snatching it before it could escape.

Overbalancing, he rolled, clutching his broom to his chest as he impacted with the unyielding ground. His shoulder hit first, Quidditch armor digging into his bicep painfully and his glasses flew off.

Harry sat up, gasping for breath and shook his head in an attempt to clear it. The adrenaline he felt as he plummeted strummed through his nerves, and he cast about hurriedly for his glasses, sliding them back on when they were found.

He swore when he checked the time. There were five short minutes left to change and replace the Snitch and make it back to the castle for Potions. Snape would probably give him detention.

Stumbling to his feet, he dashed to the Quidditch shack to return the Snitch before changing back into his school robes. Once his hand made contact with the doorknob though, he found himself five feet away on his back, the breath knocked out of him.

He sat up with a slight groan of pain. What had just happened?

Any attempt to open the door resulted in the same effect. He tried unsuccessfully five times before calling it a lost cause and drawing his wand. His back burned where the armor had dug into it, and he was sure that there would be a permanent rash.

It took a few tries to take the curse off, and the door was very unhappy about that, more so than it was when it was touched. More than once Harry found himself struggling to get to his feet no less than twenty feet from the door.

Eventually though, Harry managed to bring the curse down and placed the Snitch in the chest with the rest of the balls before dashing back to the changing rooms. His armor was stained green from the continuous sliding on the grass, and looked more than a little worn. Harry, hot and sweaty, threw on his robes as he bemoaned the loss of a shower. He didn't want to push it with Snape.

He was out of breath as he drew level with the door, and paused just long enough to regain some semblance of control over his breathing. "Mr Potter. Thank you for deciding to come to class today." Snape sneered as Harry slid through the door. "Thirty points for tardiness. Go sit down."

Harry mumbled something that sounded vaguely like an apology before making his way towards the back of the room and his place beside Hermione. Snape's voice stopped him before he could take a second step.

"Yes, Professor?" He turned back to face Snape. He frowned when the class gasped. He hadn't said anything remotely insulting to Snape.

"May I ask what happened, Mr Potter?" Snape was looking at him oddly, his eyebrow in a kind of half quirk. Harry's frown deepened.

"I don't know what you mean, sir."

Snape eyed him before he responded. "Your back, Potter. Your robes are covered in blood."

Harry blinked at him. "Blood?" Now that it was brought to his attention, his back was smarting.

Snape glared at him as if Harry's question doubted his intelligence. "Granger, take Potter to the Hospital Wing and return here immediately. Doubtless you'll be able to do any work this class Potter, with the condition you're currently in." Harry stared at him, wondering what had happened to Snape to let Harry out of class. What was the catch? Hermione appeared at his elbow, gently tugging him towards the door.

Snape's voice followed them out the classroom. "And you'll be returning here at eight o'clock tonight to complete the assigned potion, Potter. Don't forget." There it was.

"What happened?" Hermione asked when the door had snapped shut. Her eyes were wide in concern and she kept her hand firmly on his elbow as if he were about to collapse. "Was it Malfoy?"

Harry frowned, thinking back. No, Harry had not seen Malfoy, he was sure of that. But the door… he could have cursed the door. "The door to the Quidditch shack was cursed." He explained about the door and the unforgiving quality of Quidditch armor.

"Do you think Malfoy cursed it?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, and winced at the pain that shot through his back. How could he not have noticed? "I suppose it's possible. What's with all the questions about Malfoy?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "He arrived a little later to class than usual. Thought it was a bit suspicious, that's all."

Harry smirked at her. "Memorizing his schedule, Hermione?"

Her cheeks darkened and she sputtered. "Of course not! Why on earth would I want to? But if he did do this to you…" she trailed off darkly, muttering under her breath. Harry grinned.

"Even if he did curse the door, I wouldn't know. I've been trying to avoid him lately."

"Why?" Hermione asked, quirking her brow at him as they ascended the marble staircase.

Harry flushed. "Well, after that… rather informative conversation on Malfoy's sexuality –not to mention the fact that there was a very descriptive lesson on what goes on with two men following that- I find it rather difficult to have any contact with him." But that was only half of it. He had been flooded with mental images at the time, mostly of Malfoy doing obscene acts which inevitably lead to the following disaster. Harry had no intention of telling anyone about what had happened after he had left.

Hermione frowned. "You did leave quite abruptly. I didn't think that you'd have that kind of reaction. But hold on…" Hermione looked at him quizzically, and Harry felt a sense of dread. "Ron said you weren't in you room when he went to bed shortly afterwards. Where did you go?"

"Late night fly," he muttered. Hermione pursed her lips, but said nothing more on the subject.

Madam Pomfrey was angry with him when he arrived. "You should have come straight to me! With all that walking around, you have probably made it worse!"

"I didn't realize what had happened!" Harry fruitlessly tried to defend himself. Pomfrey tutted and pushed him face down into the nearest bed. The top portions of his blood soaked clothes were vanished off so she could examine the damage.

"Quidditch," she muttered darkly, "is ten per cent fun and ninety per cent pain." She grabbed a nearby container and rubbed a cooling salve over the torn skin of his back. Harry hissed at the contact; healing salve or not, it felt as though it was burning though his skin as it began the slow process of kitting his back together.

"It had nothing to do with Quidditch," Harry defended. He conveniently left anything out about the armor. It was there to protect the player, anyways.

Pomfrey fussed above him, still muttering under her breath and Harry chose to ignore her. He glanced up at Hermione who was hovering beside the bed. "Shouldn't you return to class, Hermione?"

"Ron will want to know how you're doing. Besides," she said with a smile. "Snape can't complain or anything; I've already finished the potion, so there's really nothing for me to do."

"Other than help Ron of course."

Hermione chuckled. "That too, I guess."

Pomfrey slapped a square of gauze that covered the entirety of his back with a bit more force than was necessary, Harry thought with a grimace. "Now you need to rest, Potter," She told him sharply.

"Do I have to stay here? Or can I go back to my dorm?" Harry asked as he raised himself onto his elbows to look at her beseechingly.

Her lips pursed and Harry was sure that she would say no before she sighed. "I suppose it's not entirely necessary. I trust you're sick of being in the Hospital Wing. Goodness knows it's not normal for one person to land themselves in here as often as you do."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey." He sat up gingerly, tugging on the clean shirt that had appeared next to his beside, and decided to forego the fresh robes.

Hermione parted ways with him as she headed back down to the dungeons and Harry headed for the seventh floor. He decided that he didn't particularly feel like sleeping in his dormitory, and changed course for the Room of Requirement.

He opened the door to find a large and doubtlessly comfortable four poster bed against one wall, and a couple of chairs surrounding a merrily crackling fireplace.

Harry pulled off his trousers and gingerly slipped out of the shirt, collapsing onto the bed before him with a groan. The early mornings caught up with him, and he was asleep within seconds.

*~O~*~O~*

Harry awoke comfortable and pleasantly warm. He moaned, burying his head into the pillow and attempting to sink further into the mattress by wriggling his hips. He froze at the noise in his ear. That- No, surely, Harry imagined that hitch of breath.

But how to explain that tingle on his skin?

Where was all the heat coming from if he was lying on top of the blankets?

And where the hell did his pants go?

Panicking slightly, Harry attempted to sit up. A pressure on his shoulder prevented this action, and breath was coming in great gusts of air now.

"Didn't Pomfrey tell you to relax?" Harry forced himself to calm down when he heard the voice, his heartbeat erratic.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?"

Malfoy nuzzled into Harry's neck and inhaled. "Helping you out; you looked dreadful in Potions, so I came to check on you."

"How is this helping me exactly? And how do you know that's what Pomfrey said?" Harry renewed his efforts to escape from underneath Malfoy. The realization that Malfoy was naked as well when he placed his full weight on Harry to prevent him from escaping almost drowned out Malfoy's response.

"It's Pomfrey, Potter. If she wasn't keeping you in the Hospital Wing, than her instructions to you would have been to 'be careful and take it easy.' That's just common sense for most people."

"Again, how is this helping me to relax? We're both naked!"

"Hmm, yes, we are, aren't we?" Malfoy muttered as he licked a slow line from Harry's neck to his ear. Harry froze.

"Malfoy…" he whispered in a strangled voice.

"You've been avoiding me, Potter." Malfoy whispered in his ear. "Malfoy's don't like being ignored. Especially me. And certainly not by you."

"Is that why you cursed the door?" Harry asked, trying to ignore the nibbling on his earlobe.

"What cursed door?" There was genuine confusion in his voice, despite it being slightly muffled. Harry refused to buy into it.

"The door to the Quidditch shack, of course. Hermione said you were later for class than usual."

Malfoy paused in his ministrations to Harry's ear. "It's true that I was late for class, and I was at the pitch at the time. But I didn't curse any doors. I was only there to watch you fly."

Harry pulled as far away from Malfoy as he could and turned his head to look at him. Grey eyes were disturbingly close to his own and Harry could make out small flecks of blue in the iron. "What?"

Malfoy just looked at him. "As I said, you were avoiding me. I planned to confront you after you had finished, but each time I went down to talk you were otherwise engaged, and I didn't want to disturb you. You're quite a sight on a broomstick, Potter." He grinned demurely.

Harry gaped at him. "You've been watching me?" The notion that he was being watched was inconceivable, and by Malfoy no less. How had he not known? True, he was a bit dim at times, but he should have seen Malfoy at some point. "How long?"

Malfoy shrugged, the movement pulling at the gauze on Harry's back but not causing any painful twinges. Apparently Pomfrey's salve had worked wonders. "Once you stopped coming for breakfast, I wanted to know where you went off every morning. I figured Quidditch was a better shot than the library."

Harry looked at him, shocked speechless. "And what- what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked haltingly. If only he could move.

"Why have you been avoiding me, Potter?" Malfoy swiftly sidestepped the question with his own. "Surely what happened here two weeks ago wouldn't have made you take such drastic measures. You've been acting as though you're terrified of me." Malfoy frowned. "I don't like it."

Harry looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "Malfoy, look at our history. There hasn't been a single friendly confrontation in the years we've known each other."

"I'm certain you can think of one exception."

Harry hesitated. His neck was beginning to ache in the awkward position. "True, but that… that was different."

Malfoy broke eye contact as he nuzzled into Harry's shoulder. He ran a hand through the dark locks and began to absently massage his scalp. Harry bit back a moan of pleasure, waiting for Malfoy to respond.

"It was better than any of our other confrontations, you have to admit. And I often find myself wishing for a repeat." He pushed down with his hips slightly, making Harry aware of the desire that filled him as Malfoy's erection pressed into his arse.

Harry was panting. The hardening of his own cock pressed into the mattress that had once seemed so comfortable, but now teased him with its soft half-caresses. "Why though? Why me?"

"You've always been an anomaly." Harry jerked as Malfoy's wandering fingers traced over a ticklish spot on his side. He could feel the grin that seeped across the blonds' face as he began to kiss his way up Harry's neck. "You've fascinated me from the beginning. You have no idea the kind of rumors that circulate around you, Potter, even before school started. It's only gotten more interesting as the years go by." Drawing level with Harry's lips he continued in a barely audible whisper. "I don't want to listen to rumors anymore; I want to hear the truth."

Interlacing their fingers, he skated his lips over Harry's in a demure kiss, gently asking for permission as he increased the pressure. Harry acquiesced with a moan, his lips sliding open and Malfoy slipped his tongue inside, stroking softly as he explored. He nibbled on Harry's lower lip as he drew slowly away to gaze into the bottle-green depths.

Try as Harry might, he could detect no nefarious plots in Malfoy's gaze. Malfoy had had the opportunity to use what he could against Harry, and the fact that he didn't assured Harry that Malfoy was not rotten to the core. In fact, the longer he looked at him, he could feel a stirring in his chest that would not be ignored. Memories from their previous encounter flooded through his mind, and Harry echoed Malfoy's desire for more.

"The truth's easier to get than you think," He panted, "so long as you're willing to ask."

Malfoy's lips curved into a gentle smile. "Hmm, and you'll be willing to clarify a few things for me later?" He chuckled at Harry's nod, his eyes sparkling. "But in the meantime…"

"What are you suggesting we do?" At Malfoy's quirked eyebrow, he continued. "I find I occasionally rather like the suggestions you make." With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he lifted his hips off of the bed, arching backwards into Draco.

Draco gasped at the motion and pressed a quick kiss to Harry's temple. "I think you're the one with the suggestion here, and I quite agree with it." He ground his hips down, sliding his cock further in between Harry's arse cheeks. Harry rocked back into him, feeling his own erection drag across the fabric below him.

Draco shifted back onto his knees, pulling Harry's hips up with him as he went. Harry pressed his face into the pillow that his hands clutched and moaned as a pale arm curled around his midsection to grasp his cock.

Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on his lower back, rising steadily to his neck as Draco encircled Harry's body with his own. The rhythm of his hand on Harry was matched with the motion of his hips as he slid over Harry's entrance, eliciting a long whimper. Harry shuddered with the desire that arched through him, collecting in his groin.

With renewed vigor, he thrust backwards, matching the thrusts as Draco enticingly sliding over his entrance again and again. Smooth hands caressed his cock, smearing the precome that gathered at the tip and tracing the sensitive underside. Harry gasped at the tightening of his balls and a white hot fire shot through his body, beginning at his toes and continuing to the tips of his fingers. "Oh Merlinnngh- Mal-Draco!" He choked, coming spectacularly over Draco's hand as he milked him, drawing out his orgasm.

Draco jerked his hips faster, the tip of his cock probing at Harry, the generous amounts of precome making his movements slicker. Draco latched onto Harry's shoulder as he came, his come dribbling down Harry to collect between his knees on the sheets.

Draco collapsed and rolled to the side, pulling Harry against his chest. His breathing was ragged in Harry's ear, causing shivers to course through them both. The suspicion had long since deserted him, leaving only a feeling of rightness and overbearing comfort.

Shifting in Draco's arms to face him, Harry slid a hand into the gossamer strands of his hair and pulled him into a searing kiss. He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Draco's mouth as he pulled away, and continued upwards, tracing the pointed features with his lips.

"I'd like to keep you for myself for a while, if you don't mind." Draco gasped, hand gripping Harry's waist.

"Fine by me," Harry responded, snuggling into the embrace. "What time is it?" His eyes slid shut as he hooked a leg over Draco's hip, pulling him closer. "I'm supposed to be at Snape's at eight to complete that stupid potion."

"Eight?" Draco asked softly.

"Yes," Harry looked at him, and seeing the apprehensive expression on Draco's face, sat up slowly. "What's the matter?"

Draco's brow furrowed. "Nothing, except that when I got here, it was quarter to."

Darting for his wand at the end of the bed, Harry cast a quick Tempus charm and groaned when the red glowing numbers appeared before him: 8:17pm.

Snape was so not going to be happy.

~TBC