I totally have like.. NO EXCUSE! XDD

Just don't kill me.

iridescentcloud: It's supposed to be confusing, honey. :) Thank you for being my first reviewer! You get a candy! lol

anime-fushigi: Harry is ALWAYS full of angst! Haven't you seen Potter Puppet Pals?! Wizard angst! I think he needs a hug! haha I didn't want everything to be so forced, but I'm going to try to fix that! I promise! This Hermione isn't a bookworm. She basically a skank! lmao I hope you do like Draco, btw! And thanks for your compliment on my summary! C:

Also thanks to Miyako Suou, JayneyHunter, BiTe Me AnD ChOkE, Siralda, and Tuuna.

Oh yeah! And for all those people who asked if I'm going to finish Harry's poem, be satisfied! I have a plan for them!

Disclaimer: Me? Own Harry Potter? (falls over laughing)


Chapter 2

"Great," Harry moaned unenthusiastically.

He had gone almost a whole two weeks without an encounter with the demon named Malfoy. Until now, that is.

"I haven't been able to find you anywhere for a while," Malfoy purred as he neared Harry a bit more. However, before Harry could take a step back, Malfoy shoved Harry roughly against the black board. He winced as his back made contact with the steel plate sticking out for the chalk. That was going to bruise. "Where have been?"

"Wherever you haven't obviously," Harry hissed back. "It was so great until you wormed your way into my life again."

There was a school assembly today and pretty much everyone was out in the stadium. Harry had left his bag in his homeroom class and had come back to get it when he ran into the rich blonde. And what bastard wouldn't use this opportunity to harass unsuspecting black haired, green eyed boys?

Malfoy smirked. "Why, Potter, your words hurt me. So very much," he sneered before pushing his body against the Harry's.

Harry cringed as his back once again slammed into the protruding metal. He saw a flash of silver on Malfoy's neck and he made to grab his pendant, but Malfoy saw him and punched him in the stomach. Harry doubled over, coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

Harry felt Mafoy's arm wrap around him but the embrace was not comforting. It was harsh and hard and menacing and Harry didn't like it He tried to wriggle out of the blonde's grasp but Malfoy just squeezed harder .

"Touch me," Malfoy commanded.

"What?" Harry saked, appalled. He was only grasped harder.

He took a deep breath and moved his hand to travel south, but when he reached the edge of Malfoy's pants, it fell back.

"I can't!" Harry said, defeated.

Malfoy scoffed. He unwrapped one arm from around the boy and proceeded to unbutton Harry's pants, shoving his hand in them, fisting Harry with his smooth hands.

"Surrender?" Malfoy asked. Harry could only nod his head as he sucked in a shuddering breath. "Good."

He pumped Harry faster, running his thumb over the slit experimentally. Harry didn't even bother stifling his moans, knowing those attempts were futile. After all, what sort of dignity did he have when it came to Draco Malfoy? None.

A warmth… No, a boiling heat, began to gather in the pit of stomach, making his erection throb. High on pleasure for the moment, Harry dipped his hands inside Malfoy's pants and rubbed and pumped him frantically. He did things to Malfoy's cock that would make himself, Harry, shudder and tremble with pleasure.

The room was silent except for the heavy breathing, pants, and grunts of the two boys who were trying to out pleasure the other. Harry stifled his cry as he came into Malfoy's hand by burying his face into Malfoy's hard shoulder. He felt the blonde shudder as his warm wetness oozed into Harry's hand and then heard his shuddering breaths as his erection went limp in Harry's hand.

A glowing feeling over came Harry as he rode his first orgasm, but then he realized who had brought him to such climaxes. A deep shame washed over Harry, making him feel undoubtly dirty and like crap.

Harry slowly brought his hand out of the other boy's pants and took his head out of Malfoy's shoulder. Before he could say anything, however, Malfoy punched his already bruised abdomen again before mercilessly kissing Harry's mouth. Tired, and shamed, as he was, Harry refused to let Malfoy dominate him and kissed him back vigorously, bruising his lips. Lips were bitten, teach clashed, and tongues forced themselves into the other's mouth. Harry tasted blood in the kiss but when he felt no sting of a cut on his lips, he was momentarily prideful that he has bloodied Malfoy's lip.

Finally, they pulled away, not able to breath. The pain from being man handled so much came back to Harry full force as Malfoy untangled himself from Harry. He gasped and clutched his stomach while idly noticing that somehow, he had ended up sitting on McGonagall's desk. He looked up and saw Malfoy straightening his clothes. Again, that feeling of pride filled him as he say Malfoy's bruised and bloodied lip.

"Let me see you more often," Malfoy insisted as he came closer. He leaned over Harry, putting a hand on either side of his thighs.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," Harry retorted.

"No, Potter," Malfoy drawled. "Fuck you."

He smirked before stepping away from Harry again and then leaving the room.


"Mommy! Mommy! Guess what?"

Harry, at the age of four, hopped out of his father's lap and ran towards his mother, who was coming in through the front door. Lily Potter giggled slightly as she hung up her deep red coat on the hanger and picked up her little boy. Harry kissed her rosy cheeks and Lily pecked Harry's before putting him down.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked warmly. Lily walked into the living room, Harry trailing behind her, and hugged her husband, James. Sitting down next to him, she looked over to her excited boy.

"It's a secret!" Harry whispered dramatically. Lily and James chuckled at the serious expression on the child's face. "You need to come closer!"

Lily laughed before bending down, placing her ear right in front of Harry's mouth. Harry kissed her cheek once more before whispering in that loud whisper.

"I love you!"

Harry's eyes shot open. Back aching in pain, he straightened out on his chair and cracked it. Against his will, tears began to gather at the corner of his eyes. He hastily rubbed them away before looking down at his half completed homework.

The phone rang and the piecing sound filled his small apartment. Harry hastily stood up from the kitchen table and went over to the hallway. On the way, he glanced at the clock. Seven thirty.

"Hello?" Harry answered when he picked up the phone.

"Harry?" the sharp voice of his aunt came from the other side. Harry should have expected it to be her. It was around that time of the month.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia?" he asked formally.

"How are your funds?"

"Fine."

"And how are you on food?"

"Fine, Aunt Petunia."

"Good."

Harry heard the click, telling him his aunt had hung up. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he too hung up the phone. That was so like her, keeping interaction at a minimum. Short and to the point. Even when he lived with her and her family, she didn't interact much with him, unless it was to order him around, or tell him how it was his fault Lily died.

He still remembered the day it became too much.

Fourteen year old Harry was coming down stairs from his room to do his nightly chore of washing the dishes. His cousin, Dudley, was out with friends doing who knows what tonight, so Harry didn't have to keep glancing over his shoulder to make sure the fat oaf wasn't there, ready to push him down. He didn't want his aunt mad at him for having blood on the carpet.

The thin raven haired boy was about to open the kitchen door when he heard the voices of his aunt and uncle in there. Aunt Petunia sounded near hysterics and, by the sounds of it, Uncle Vernon was trying to calm her down.

"I can't stand having him here anymore, Vernon!" his aunt was sobbing. "I can't! Every time I see him, I see her eyes and… and… I won't have my sister's and parents' murderer in my house anymore, do you hear me! No more! Eight years… Eight years!"

Harry felt his throat clogging up. Even though he had been told for the past eight years that it was his fault that his parents and grandparents died, he never got used to it. Especially since it was his fault…

"It's okay, Petunia," his uncle was saying. Harry could picture him holding his gangly wife in his beefy arms, stroking her hair while she cried into his shoulder. "We'll fix this, I promise."

Harry didn't have to do dishes that night.

His aunt and uncle came to him the next day and told him that he was to be moving out of their home. His Uncle Vernon had made all the calls and deals necessary to give Harry his own apartment. It wasn't much, with one bathroom, one room, and a small living room and kitchen, but it was enough. His uncle had set him up a bank account that they would constantly be checking over and filling with money. Not a lot, but enough to buy his essentials. They would still be Harry's legal guardians and so, any paperwork from the school or anything would be mailed to them, but Harry rarely ever saw them. And for that, he was glad.

His aunt still called him about once a week or once every two weeks, but Harry knew that the only reason she did, was because she felt obligated to do so, being Lily's sister. His aunt had also taken it upon herself to fill his fridge with food. She never appeared when Harry was around, so he figured she came while he was at school.

He was perfectly okay with the very little interaction with the last of his family. He'd rather look at old photos of his beautiful mother and handsome father than look at the beefy face of his uncle and his horse-like aunt. He'd much rather stare at old walls then be ridiculed at by his whale of a cousin.

Even if the pictures seemed to haunt, and the walls seemed to taunt, he was okay with it.

Really. He was.


Draco groaned as he finally made it into his huge room. His parents had decided to have another party in their mansion again, and, as practiced, Draco was to attend and let those stupid, rich people ask him questions far too personal, tell him that he could never live up to him, and hear them worship their "Lord." It was really annoying. He really questioned why he ever attended those stupid parties.

Loosening his navy tie, he fell back onto his huge bed. Grabbing a pillow and throwing it over his eyes, he let his thoughts drift over random things. In other words, he was thinking of Potter. As he was thinking of him, he let his fingers find and play with the pendant he had stolen from the scrawny green eyed wonder. He couldn't help but scoff as he remembered all his feeble attempts at trying to hold back the blissful feelings that Draco made him feel. Draco wasn't known as a sex god for nothing.

Draco stilled remembered the day that he finally gave into his urges and touched the boy. He still remembered the feelings that coursed through him, and the disgust that was in Potter's eyes. He still remembered the relief that he felt when his tongue ran over Potter's sweaty, translucent skin. He even remembered the disgust that he felt himself.

Almost as soon as he felt that relief, he pulled away, he remembered. He was so shocked and angry and, dare he say it, embarrassed at what he done. However, he had tasted part of Potter and, even as he ran away from the empty basketball court, leaving Potter on the floor, he knew that he would have to taste it again.

And so he did.

Although at first, he did everything in his power to avoid Potter, he couldn't help but be drawn back to him. Draco found him leaving school late one evening, and he pounced. Since he came out of a side exit, there was no one to watch Draco press Potter against the cold brick wall of their school. They had a small scuffle at first, but after the blonde had slapped Potter hard enough to also hit his head on the wall, he had gave in to his demands. Of course, the fact that he probably had a concussion and was too dazed to get his thoughts straight might have had something to do with it.

Thinking back on it, a part of his mind wondered if Potter ever had his head checked. He quickly brushed it away though. What did it matter? It was a long time ago and it was also his fault for being so freaking weak.

'It's not that he's weak,' a voice said in his head, 'but the fact that you force yourself on him.'

Draco shook his head vigorously. He was not going to start listening to voices that were not in his head. He was probably just tired. He had been sleeping late for the past few weeks after all.

He decided to take a quick shower so that he didn't have to wake up even earlier the next morning to take one. Not liking the silence in his room, he turned on his computer and opened his music player. He turned the speakers on to a reasonable volume and jumped into the bathroom. There was a pair of speakers from his computer in the top corner near the bathroom door, so he could listen to his music while he showered.

His bathroom was fairly big. It was roughly half the size of his room. It was bright compared to it as well. The walls were a deep cream color with a tint of gold. When he turned the lights on, everything looked gold and warm. Half of one wall was taken up by a huge mirror and a sink. The other half by a toilet and a rack of towels. His bathroom had a big, Jacuzzi type tub as well as fairly large shower stall.

Draco turned the water on in the shower stall so that it could heat up before taking off his clothes and then finally jumping in.

Take me to a place where doors are open, a lovely little place where no one's broken. (1)

'Everyone does seem broken here,' Draco thought as he washed himself. 'Parents who can't even think for themselves, stiffs who are just like them. Not to mention everyone at school!' He got the shampoo bottle.

Welcome to the world that no one's livin'. Just wanna break out and escape this prison.

Draco rinsed his hair. 'To be able to leave and not look back. To be able to be free. Gosh, my life is so much like a prison!'

He stayed under the caressing spray of the warm water for a while longer, sitting under the spay and listening to his music. Different songs playee, and he really took his time to listen to the lyrics.

Bring me to life, breathe air into me. Take me from the darkness that I feel 'cause I just wanna be free…

I am my own affliction. I am my own disease…(2)

I keep it caged but I can't control it. So stay away from me, the beast is ugly… (3)

I see the hurt within your eyes. I know your pain is for a reason. You need to feel just to know that you're alive... (4)

'I think…,' Draco thought as he turned off the water and stepped out of the stall. He shivered as cold air hit his wet, naked body but quickly got a towel to fix that problem. He turned to the bathroom's mirror, but it was clouded with his shower's steam. Draco reached over and rubbed it away so that he could see himself.

'I think I use Potter to make myself feel…'



1: Bring Me To Life - Thousand Foot Krutch

2: Mess IF Me - Switchfoot

3: Monster - Skillet

4: To Know That You're Alive - Kutless

So?? How was it? Up to your standards or no? If it's not, then PISS OFF! lol jk. Give me critisism baby!

And in case you were wondering, it actually IS possible to have speakers like that in your bathroom. My friend has them.