AN: I'm so sorry! I honestly didn't mean to leave it this long! Please don't throw rotten tomatoes at me, simply because you don't deserve to get rotten tomatoes on your lovely hands! So this is the new chapter – I've also sent a note to Jenny8 who offered to beta, so if she says anything should be changed, I'll edit it. Also, this chapter is dedicated to Mog, who is in Iceland at the moment, because she introduced me to the wonderful world of slash! Lots of love…Petitesorciere xxx

Harry stared at the trifle in front of him, the peaks of cream standing stiffly and had to clap a hand to his forehead, trying to stop the thoughts running through his mind: it simply wasn't appropriate when he was sitting at dinner with his friends. He picked up his spoon, cut into the dessert and lifted it to his lips, only to find that his eyes shot straight to the Slytherin table, looking for the hateful, smirking face that plagued his dreams.

''You alright mate?'' Ron looked at him curiously.

''Fine. Why wouldn't I be?'' Harry swallowed, and smiled weakly at Ron.

''You do look a little flushed Harry.'' Hermione reached over and touched his forehead. ''Well, you don't have a temperature. Maybe you just need some air?''

''That sounds great.'' Harry jumped to his feet, his spoon clattering onto his plate and fled the hall. Ron and Hermione frowned at each other and looked after him, wondering whether to follow him or not.

Harry slumped down on the shores of the lake and looked out at its moonlit waters. Nothing could clear his mind, nothing could make him become the person that he had been before this entire series of events. He couldn't avoid Draco, because he knew that Draco would come and find him. He couldn't approach Draco because he would just play into those long, elegant hands. He couldn't play Draco at his own game because Draco played it too damn well. What was he meant to do? Spend the rest of his life ignoring every flirtatious glance that he got from everyone else simply because he could only ever see Draco in their eyes? Was he meant to lie in bed every night, tangled in his hot bedclothes and his thoughts of Draco?

''I saw you leave the hall.'' The low voice came out of nowhere and Harry jumped and turned around – his acid green eyes wide in his startled face.

''Hi.''

''You've seemed really distracted lately, are you ok?''

''I'm fine.'' Harry moved to one side and let Ginny sit down next to him. ''Just got a lot of things on my mind.''

''Want to talk about them?'' Ginny looked at him, her brown eyes sympathetic.

''Not really.'' Harry looked back out across the water, willing himself not to look at her because all he could see was the fiery hair bleaching to palest blonde and the soft brown of her eyes turning to a wolf-grey. ''I'd rather forget about it to be honest.''

''Maybe I can help.'' Ginny's hand was on his arm and Harry looked at it, puzzled at the warmth that he could feel – this was something that he could appreciate. And then her lips were on his, and for all Harry wanted to enjoy it, the kiss was too gentle. It had none of the bruising passion of Draco's kisses, none of the desperation that made him never want to let go. And yet…this was something he could deal with, something that wouldn't keep him lying awake night after night…his mind whirled, unable to comprehend exactly what he should do.

Draco stood in the castle grounds, watching the redhead push her fingers through Harry's hair, and felt an unreasonable surge of hatred flood through his veins. How dare she touch his property? And how dare Potter let her? He stepped forward and coughed irritably. ''Get a room Potter and take the slut with you.''

Harry broke apart from Ginny, and felt his eyes widen against his will. Draco was shining in the moonlight, looking like a particularly malevolent angel. Ginny was still clinging to his arm and Harry felt the urge to get rid of her, to have Draco to himself.

''Get lost Malfoy,'' Ginny spat, and Harry wanted to slap a hand over her mouth – get rid of Draco? No!

''Er, Ginny? Go inside. I'll deal with this.'' He prayed that she would listen to him. Her eyes lit up, and he realised that she must have thought that he was going to fight to protect her honour.

''Ok…meet me inside when you're done here?''

''Sure,'' he muttered, just wishing that she would go. She eventually did, glaring at Draco all the way.

Harry pulled himself to his feet, his mouth dry and his heart pounding. ''Leave Ginny out of this.''

''Potter, that is simply too oedipal. Or are you just wanting to belong to a family?''

''Shut up.'' Harry spat – hating him for what he was saying, hating him for talking when he could be kissing.

''No, have you thought about this? Are you honestly so desperate to be part of a family that you'll get with that?'' The emphasis on 'that' told Harry all he needed to know about Draco's thoughts on the matter. A wave of corrosive hatred engulfed him – Draco was stopping him acting normally, stopping him appreciating all that was good in his life, all that he should be enjoying him. He lunged forward and hit Draco as hard as he could, knocking him onto his back.

Draco looked up at Harry standing over him with clenched fists. He raised a hand to his cheek, knowing that the tender skin would already be bruising. He pulled himself back up to his feet and lashed out again, his signet ring cutting a gash into Harry's cheek. Harry wiped the blood off his cheek and hurtled forward again, hating Draco for what he was doing but hating himself even more for giving in to it. He relished every hit as some kind of penance, hoping that there would be a punch that would drive all the confused lust out of him, and let him go back to the way he had been.

Finally, they pulled apart, both bruised and bleeding.

''Why are we doing this?'' Harry looked at Draco, his eyebrows furrowed. ''I hate you! Why can't I just do that?''

''Because we need to do more than that.''

''Why?''

''Let me guess Potter. You haven't been able to concentrate on anything. No girl looks the same, hell, no guy looks the same. You lie in bed every night thinking about me.''

''No,'' Harry lied.

''You are a pathetic liar Potter. And I know that you've been feeling like that because I have as well, and I hate myself for it. Almost as much as I hate you. Fortunately, I know how to deal with this, whereas you most certainly don't.''

''You know how to deal with this?'' Harry stared at Draco, daring to hope that this ordeal might be at an end, but dreading the thought at the same time.

''Yes and it isn't by punching them you idiot.''

''It seemed like the right thing to do.''

''You've got a wand Potter, why didn't you use that?'' Draco looked at Harry struggling to come up with an answer. ''I'll tell you why. Because you want the contact. You need it.''

''Shut up Malfoy. You said you knew how to deal with this – do it!''

''I said I knew how to deal with this, for me. I want you, so I'm going to have you.'' Harry gulped at the gleam in Draco's eyes. ''I don't care how you deal with your ideas but you had better come up with something quickly. I want you, but I hate you, so this is not going to be easy for you.''

''I won't let you have me.'' Harry shook his head distractedly.

''You don't have a choice in the matter.'' Draco stepped forward and Harry's hormones took over – freezing his muscles, not letting him flee. ''Come here.''

And Harry stepped forward woodenly, moving towards the blonde boy who exerted such a peculiar hold over him. Draco took him in his arms almost tenderly. Harry looked at him in confusion, only to understand when Draco's arms straightened, sending Harry reeling backwards. He had one moment when he thought he was going to regain balance but it was gone too quickly and he was splashing back into the freezing waters of the lake.

He sat there, looking up at Draco who was smirking down at him. Pulling out his wand quickly, he shot a jet at Draco, unbalancing him and sending him toppling in as well. The pair stared furiously at each other, drenched hair sticking to their foreheads, and before they could analyse anything, their mouths were together, cold water shared between them as their wet bodies clung to each other. Tearing at the sodden clothes they staggered out of the lake, stumbling onto the grass and falling to the ground together as their cold, bare skin connected. Harry tipped his head back in ecstasy as Draco nibbled at his neck, running his hands along his back, feeling each bump of the spine. Their bodies melded in a way that was becoming alarmingly familiar, yet there were still new parts to be explored, new places to make the other moan in ecstasy and they fell to their exploration with an unprecedented eagerness, deciding that if this was the only way to play it, it was going to be competitive.

Ginny looked out of the window of Gryffindor Tower, speaking to Hermione as she did so. ''It was so romantic Mione. He sent me in here, he was obviously going to fight Malfoy for attacking me. But he ought to be back by now.''

Hermione joined her at the window. ''Where did you last see him?''

''Down by the lake.''

Harry pushed Draco's hair, dark blonde now because of the water, out of his eyes and stared into the swirling grey pool that kept him awake at night. ''This is so wrong.''

''But you have to admit Potter, it doesn't feel wrong.''

Hermione peered into the gloom. ''I think I can see someone…oh!''

Ginny looked where she was looking. ''But…is that him? Oh Merlin…Hermione, he's with someone!''

All that could be seen in the darkness were the pale bodies moving against each other – one with black hair and one with blonde hair that, when out of its regimented style, looked notably different. Ginny turned to Hermione. ''I'm going to kill that blonde girl.''