Harry spent the night on the floor in Malfoy's dorm room. The bedroom rule might not apply to Parkinson as it never applied to Hermione for his room, and Harry wasn't taking any chances. His neck was stiff from sleeping sitting up leaning against Malfoy's trunk. It was the most uncomfortable way to sleep, but one word from her and Harry's cover was blown.

Parkinson stayed out of the boy's room that morning, but was waiting for Malfoy in their common room to escort him to breakfast. When they reached the first floor, she pulled on his arm and forced him to walk slower. They let the others pass and Harry pointed his wand at her. He had all night to think of which spell he'd use and he still hadn't decided on the proper one. Planning was never his strong suit. An idea would come to him when he needed it. They always did.

'About last night–' He could make her trip, but it would only delay the conversation.

Draco yanked his arm away from her. 'Shut your mouth.' He looked around the hall to ensure they were alone, before he continued. 'We agreed to never discuss it outside of the room.'

They must have agreed on that before their intended meeting. Harry would have exhaled in relief, if he wasn't close enough for them to hear it.

She glared at Malfoy, but nodded. 'Nothing happened', she said in obvious confusion.

That was it, the next thing she'd say was I'm sorry, I didn't show or I stood you up?

'Right', Malfoy said. 'Nothing happened.'

Huffing she crossed her arms, and continued down the hall ranting about how all Slytherin men were worthless and self involved and what happened to treating women like princesses? Malfoy rolled his eyes at her whining about looking in other houses and then followed her down the last set of stairs as she continued on about how her parents could live with her betrothed to a Ravenclaw.

After the third time Harry walked past where he was sure the room was the night before, he leant against the wall in defeat. Did the school have two Rooms of Requirement? He brought his head back against—the wood? The door appeared where a solid stone wall stood before.

He slipped into the room pleased to see he beat Malfoy there, then flicked his wand to light the candles. Within five minutes Malfoy showed up and startled at Harry's presence. After he recovered from his surprise, he strutted over to the couch in the same manner that he moved everywhere else.

'What was it you wanted to talk to me about earlier today?'

Harry should have thought about this. 'I wanted to apologize for… running out so quickly last night.'

Malfoy nodded, relaxed then sat next to him. 'Why did you?'

'I don't know.' Harry shrugged. 'Nothing like that has ever happened to me.' True and plausible for both situations. He hoped it was true for Parkinson.

'You still want to––' Malfoy gestured back and forth between them. 'I mean… you don't have to do this. I could find someone else—'

'No!' Harry disliked the idea of Malfoy finding someone else to use his body for his own sexual pleasure, especially since he never used it for that. He had plenty of opportunity, but––

Malfoy shifted closer to Harry, took his left hand, traced the tips of Harry's fingers, then brought them to his mouth.

But he was busy with the war and school and Quidditch and his friends. He never could trust the girls who fancied him. With their poems, and their cards, and Valentine's Day chocolates filled with potions.

And none of that mattered because he needed to find out what Malfoy was planning. Harry jerked his hand away from Malfoy's mouth. Malfoy was behind what happened to both Ron and Katie, he had the Dark Mark—even though Harry hadn't seen it—and it all tied back to what he was doing in the Room of Requirement.

Malfoy looked amused for some reason. 'Does this body feel much different?'

Harry wasn't sure how it felt to be in a girl's body, but he was sure it would feel quite different. He shrugged. 'I'm a girl.'

Malfoy barked out laughter, shook his head and kissed him. 'I know that. I meant from the one you were in yesterday.'

It took Harry a second to get what Malfoy meant. Yesterday he was himself as he was then.

'I got enough of each person for one transformation', Malfoy said.

Harry's pulse speed up and waited for Malfoy to hex him. He knew. It was only supposed to be him the first night. Then she was supposed to show up as someone else. That was why he looked surprised earlier when Harry entered. He willed himself to run. Or explain. Or something.

Malfoy leaned in and kissed him, then Harry pushed him back to search his face.

Malfoy furrowed his eyebrows. 'What?'

'I'm a different person each time?'

'I thought I told you that.' Malfoy shrugged and kissed him again.

Harry accepted it, but broke it second later. 'Why are they all black?'

Malfoy stared wide-eyed at Harry.

'I mean the hair not––'

'So you couldn't tell them apart.' It sounded reasonable, but Harry knew it was a lie. Malfoy had mentioned that Pansy was "too curious for her own good", so he pressed further.

'Are any of them….' He drew a blank on anyone else that even had black hair. 'Potter?' he asked in what he hoped was a neutral tone.
Malfoy paled.

'He has black hair.'

Malfoy took a deep breath.'I hadn't noticed', he said. 'No, they aren't.'

The reaction confirmed that Harry's identity remained secret and Malfoy tried to fool Pansy into thinking it was multiple people to––well, he was unsure why Malfoy wanted her to think she was transforming into different people. Maybe so she'd be less tempted to look.

Harry kissed him and his mind wandered knowing that he couldn't be the only person he knew with black hair. Many pureblooded wizards had black hair, but he never bothered to learn their names. Many different nationalities had black hair, but he doubted his compared to theirs. Plus the skin colour would be off. Malfoy lucked out when she ditched him, because anyone could have figured out his secret after a few days.

Snape was the only male professor with black hair at any length, but it was much longer than Harry's. Though they had the more similar skin colour than any of the others with black hair at their school. The thought made him laugh.

'What about Snape?'

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. 'Maybe.' Then he leaned against Harry. 'Maybe you are him right now.'

Harry's eyes widen and Malfoy crawled into his lap. No way was Malfoy playing along with that. He was the youngest teacher at Hogwarts, but still the same age as their parents. Plus, it was Snape. Who hated and enjoyed tormenting everyone. Well, perhaps not Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins.

Malfoy studied him again with a pensive look on his face, so Harry asked, 'What are you thinking?'

He shook his head and looked away. 'Nothing.'

'No', Harry said. 'You're thinking something. Tell me.' What could be a bigger secret for him than fancying blokes? 'You can trust me, Draco.' It sounded weird to say it. Parkinson never called him by his last name.

Malfoy opened his mouth as though to answer, but nothing came out.

'You know, it's not that weird to have a crush on a professor. I'm not going to tell anyone.' Harry caught his eye and said, 'I promise.'

Malfoy nodded, moved off of Harry's lap, and and rested his head to stare at the ceiling. 'I was thinking about everything I want to say to him.' That could be bad, but Harry was also too curious for his own good. Anything that got Malfoy around to talking might help Harry find a way to bring up the Room of Requirement.

'Well.' Harry smiled. 'He is right here. You can tell him.'

Malfoy laughed. 'Yeah, I suppose he is.' He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then looked up at Harry again, and threaded his fingers through his hair.

'You are so beautiful.'

Harry stopped breathing. Not what he expected. Though attraction was required for a crush. Why him? Anyone made more sense than Harry.

'I love your eyes.' Malfoy's thumb ran across his cheek. 'Even when you are glaring at me.' He smirked. 'Especially, when you're glaring at me.' He looked back at the ceiling and laughed again. 'Because, then you notice me.'

Harry took a breath and Malfoy fell quiet. If Malfoy allowed himself to be honest, it would give away Harry's identity of that he was certain. The only thing he and Snape had in common was they saw Malfoy everyday. If he spoke of any particular encounter then Parkinson would know who she was polyjucing into.
'You must think I'm crazy', Malfoy said.

He was unsure if that was directed at him, Harry, or at Parkinson listening to Malfoy talk about Snape. Either way, Harry agreed, it was a little crazy. Malfoy looked back at him, and they watched each other in silence for a moment before Malfoy leaned forward and kissed him. When he pulled away his eyes were closed and he pressed their foreheads together.

Harry watched him.

Malfoy took an unsteady breath and said, 'I think… I'm in love with you.'

It was before eight o'clock, when he headed off to "bed". Ginny said she had studying to do for Monday. She always waited until the last minute, but if she waited until the next day, Sunday, she might not finish. Hermione forced Ron to study even though he'd finished he assignments for Monday. He groaned and hid a Quidditch magazine in the book he was reading when Harry distracted her saying goodnight.

Though he was glad his escape was easy, it occurred to him how little time they spent together since his Malfoy theory took so much of his time. They thought he gave up on the idea.

In their room, he walked by Neville unnoticed, sat on his bed, and debated what to do. Ginny seemed completely unbothered by his lack of involvement in their relationship, and after two days he had official snogged Malfoy more than her. They hadn't even been together for two weeks and he cheated on her. Cheated. She was better off with Dean. When he was with Malfoy she never even crossed his mind. What would he say? Not that he cheated on her.

Tomorrow. He'd break up with her tomorrow, before he meet with Malfoy on Monday evening.

That settled he had only one question left to ponder until long after his dorm mates made their way to bed and slept.

Why him?