Authors Note: Okay, here's chapter three (: There really isn't much to say, except thank you anyone and everyone who reviewed, I seriously had an attack of joy when I saw them. I could get used to this praise thing ;D! Just kidding, anyways, if you notice anything wrong, let me know and I'll try and fix it! Thanks again everyone!

Disclaimer: Really? I don't Harry Potter, only a poster, and the books, and maybe a lock of Snapes hair… (Just kidding… maybe.)

Also, thanks Kateycat, for making me H&B enough to continue to write this story. ;D

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Chapter Three

Harry awoke the next morning in a right foul mood. Everything seemed to irritate the boy, from the sun streaming in through the tower window, to Neville's incessant whistling.

After snapping at his fellow roommate, and receiving several confused looks, Harry made his way down to the common room, book satchel in hand. He slumped down into the first armchair he came across and looked into the embers of the fire that were still barely burning from the chilly night before.

I should have known better than to start anything with Malfoy last night, Harry thought, a growl contained by his lips. With my luck, this was all planned, and he's going to end up telling everyone all about 'The Boy Who Lived to Get Down On His Knees!' Ugh, what was I thinking?!

A tap on his shoulder startled him out of his own thoughts, and he snapped his head to the right. It was Ron.

"Oi, you okay, mate?" He asked, his voice full of genuine concern towards his friend.

Harry let out a heavy sigh, and cracked his neck back the other way. "Yeah Ron, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

Ron gave him a look he couldn't quite find a word for, and shrugged. He grabbed his own bookbag and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Alright, if you say so. Hermione and I are going down to breakfast now, are you coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second." Harry replied, not sure he really even wanted to go, but knew that if he didn't people would question him about his absence.

Ron bid him farewell, and he and Hermione, and a gaggle of other students filed out of the large room, leaving only a few stray students in younger years who were scurrying to finish up an assignment.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, and shook his head, standing up. He brushed off his robes, and figured that he might as well get going. No matter how angry he was, he didn't want to have to sit through double Potions on an empty stomach.

***

Making a quiet entrance into the Great Hall, Draco looked around for Potter's unruly head of hair between the know-it-all mudblood and her redheaded weasel, but didn't see him.

He quickly took his seat among the rest of his Slytherin cronies and piled his plate with biscuits and gravy, not taking his eyes off the doorway.

"Shit, Drake, watch what you're doing!" A voice rang out next to him, forcing Draco to turn his gaze away from the door.

"Oh fuck. I'm sorry Blaise." The blonde exclaimed, looking at his friends now gravy covered robes. "I wasn't paying attention." He explained, trying to help soak up the mess with his napkin.

"Well no shit, mate. I can see that." Came the snorted reply, "You're staring at the door like you're waiting for the Dark Lord himself to come waltzing in. What's the matter with you?"

Draco sighed, and dropped the soiled cloth on the tabletop. He could always count on Blaise to know when something was wrong.

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that you came into the dorm room well after curfew, swearing and muttering about 'that damn Potter'?"

Bingo. He hit that one right on the nail. Blaise was way too perceptive for his liking, Draco thought to himself.

"Blaise, when the hell did you get so damn observant?" He muttered, trying not to look the other boy in the eye.

"Draco, we've been best mates since first year, and you think you can get one past me?" Blaise chortled, used his wand to clear away the rest of the mess from the bench and table.

Draco let a small grin creep up his face, "I should have known better. What was I thinking?" He joked, spearing his biscuit with his fork, before bringing it to his mouth.

"Stop stalling, Draco Malfoy. Out with it." Blaise spoke, taking a sip of his own goblet of pumpkin juice. Draco winced at the use of his full name, it's presence reminding him an awful lot of his father.

"Alright, alright already. Yes, it does have something to do with that Scarheaded git." Draco replied, taking another bite.

Blaise waited, impatiently, for the blonde to continue. After wiping his mouth, he dropped his voice to a whisper.

"You know how, for the last few months, I've been having those… dreams?" Draco said, his cheeks reddening slightly.

His companions eyes widened, but nodded nonetheless, as he dropped his own fork, ignoring his breakfast.

"Well, last night, I was finishing my rounds, when I ran into no other than The Boy Who Lived. I told him, very politely," Draco ignored the eyeroll from Blaise, "that it was past curfew, and he should probably get back to his own common room." He paused for a drink, "and of course, the prat had the audacity to start a fight with me."

"Did you kick his bloody arse, mate?" Blaise interrupted with a slight elbow to Draco's side. Draco's only reply was an eyebrow raise, and a shake of the head.

"Are you going to let me finish, or should I just go tell Pansy instead, Zabini?" He replied, with the hint of a joke in his voice.

Blaise laughed, "Mate, you tell Pansy, and I'm pretty sure I'll hear it anyways, only whatever it is, will have Hippogriffs and Nargles involved."

"She's not that loon, Lovegood, Blaise." He snickered, even though he knew perfectly well that it was true. Pansy did like to exaggerate things. "Anyways, so we're in the middle of our wand waving as usual, and then it got physical, ugh, Blaise no, not like that," Not until later at least… He thought to himself. "Then of course, bleeding Snape came walking down the hallway, and we ended up shoved into the smallest broom cupboard in all of England."

Blaise let out a bark of a laugh, causing some of the other Slytherins to turn and look at him. He shot them all a glare, and they immediately went back to their own conversations and food. "That's the funniest thing I've ever heard," Blaise said, a smile still on his lips.

"Oh, no, it gets worse."

Another laugh escaped Blaise's mouth, but stopped seeing the scowl on Draco's face. "Sorry mate, continue."

"Oh, gee, thanks Blaise." He muttered, sarcastically. "So we're trapped in this closet, and don't even start with the 'coming-out-of' jokes, Zabini, or I will personally Crucio you right now. Anyways, dark closet, trapped in the middle of the night, and the best part, is neither one of us have our wands."

Blaise looked at Draco with wide eyes, "What do you mean you didn't have your wands?"

"Just what I said, are you following this at all?" Draco retorted, growing impatient and also slightly embarrassed as he recounted the tale.

"Well then what happened?"

"I'm getting there, Blaise," The boy said, pushing a lock of his blonde hair out from in front of his eyes. "So of course, we both start arguing again, because Potter never knows when to shut himself up. And he says," He paused.

"Draco, stop holding out on me and spit it out already!" The dark skinned Slytherin exclaimed.

"Potter gave me the best fucking blow job, I've ever had in my whole life, in that dark, piece of shit broom cupboard. Okay? Is that enough information for you?" Draco blurted out, luckily in his still hushed tones.

Blaise was left speechless for the first time since the discussion had begun, which please Draco even in his embarrassment.

"He did what?!"

***

A/N: This one is a little shorter, isn't it? I was gonna continue it, but this seemed like a better place to end it, with a short cliffhanger ;D!

Reviews are loved! (: