Hello all! I am happy to say that I got three reviews on the last chapter, so the story SHALL continue! This chapter will be a bit longer than the last, I'm happy to say, and the chapters will more than likely get longer as we go.

Warnings: boyxboy sex, though I suck at writing lemons, so it won't be especially descriptive

Disclaimer: This will be the last one I include, so this will encompass the rest of the story. I do not own the characters of the story (though the deviations from their original personality belong to me :D). Nor to I own the original plotline (but again, I own the deviations, yay me!).


Draco was sitting at his desk, mentally attempting to dissect and analyze the scene in the dungeons, when there was a sharp rap at the door.

Draco sat up and schooled his turbulent expression to its usual calm, calling, "Come in."

The door opened and his mother entered, asking, "Did you punish the servant?"

Draco was momentarily startled—though you couldn't tell from his expression. What punishment? he thought in confusion, then finally remembered, Uh, oops.

"Yes, I did," he lied smoothly, "Quite thoroughly. He does not seem to be getting the message so I thought a little extra this time would not be amiss."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed suspiciously, she hadn't missed that brief pause, though she had no idea what it meant, but reframed from commenting on it, instead replying, "Good. That boy needs to learn not to cross us. He pushes our generosity too far. If that is all, then, I shall be in the library if you need me. Please go and release Potter so he can begin making dinner."

Draco nodded and Narcissa turned and left, leaving her son at the mercy of his chaotic thoughts.

Briefly, Draco debated whether to go and release Harry then or wait until later, quickly deciding to wait leave it until he'd gotten his thoughts in order.

He dissected and cross-analyzed every word and action during his conversation with Harry, taking around an hour, and finally came to the conclusion that it had all been a fluke.

After all, why would he ever be attracted to a lowly servant like the idiotic Potter? It simply wasn't possible!

Satisfied with the conclusion, he made his way back down to the dungeons, where Harry had been drawing his own not-so-logical conclusions.


When Draco reached Harry's cell, he was unsurprised to be greeted by a Zen smile. Though, unlike usual, the smile didn't quite reach Harry's eyes, which were burning with something quite unlike Zen calm.

Not that Draco noticed any of this. He was too busy trying to ignore the longing to have Harry's tongue in his mouth again. Or maybe, trailing kisses down his neck and chest to his nipples. Or even farther down to…he stopped his thoughts right there, not liking where they were going one bit.

No need to be having dirty thoughts about the help when there are tons of people just begging to fall into bed with you, he reminded himself, Maybe tonight I'll go out and find a man; it's been awhile, so that's probably why I'm feeling this towards the idiot Potter. Yes, that should help.

Satisfied with this solution, he refocused his attention on Harry, who was still in Zen-master mode.

"I have come to release you to make dinner," Draco announced haughtily, advancing into the cell to unlock Harry's wrist and ankle manacles.

"Okay," Harry replied, "Anything else, Master Draco?"

Draco stepped back quickly and Harry stood, gingerly rubbing his raw wrists.

Draco gave a curt shake of his head, "No."

You should be leaving now, the still-functioning part of his brain told him, but the part that controlled his motor skills had long since shut down. He was overwhelmed by the sheer nearness of Harry, his hands itching to reach out and touch the bit of flat stomach showing through the rip in the ratty shirt he was wearing.

Draco stared, transfixed, until Harry asked, with a bit of amusement in his voice as if he knew exactly what Draco was doing, "Master Draco, are you alright?"

Draco snapped out of his haze of sensual daydreams and quickly turned and made for the door, anxious to put as much distance between himself and Harry as possible.

"Yes," he bit out, "And if I were you, I would get started on dinner soon."

"Yes, Master Draco," replied Harry, giving a brief bow.

Draco ignored him and continued out of the dungeons. All he wanted was to get back to his room where he could brood about his puzzling reactions to Harry in peace.


Harry was also brooding over Draco's reactions to him, but for completely different reasons.

He had been working for the Malfoys ever since they had bought him at the tender age of ten.

His aunt and uncle had sold him off to pay off their debts, and the Malfoys had been the ones to buy him. He had already had all the skills necessary to successfully run the household with no help from them, so it had been perfect, for they only wanted one slave at a time.

The first day in the house, Lucius had introduced him to Draco—who'd been a much snottier version of ten than Harry—and instantly he'd fallen in love.

Harry knew it was stupid, futile, and completely pointless—he'd told himself so many times over the years—but he just couldn't bring himself to hate the youngest Malfoy, no matter how terribly he treated him.

Harry couldn't help but love his arrogance, and his haughty grace, and his habit of dominating every room he entered. Harry knew full-well that Draco was rather naïve about some things—especially where his parents were concerned—but only found this to be part of his charm.

Harry had been serving Draco faithfully all these years—choking back his volatile temper many-a-time—in hopes of inspiring at least a little affection in him.

The kiss Harry had initiated in the dungeon on pure impulse—a result of lusting after Draco all these years with no fulfillment and suddenly being in such close proximity to him—and he had been elated when Draco had responded so enthusiastically.

He can't possibly feel the way I do, Harry thought, idly stirring the soup that was to be the appetizer at dinner that night, But after his reaction to me in the dungeon today, he will probably want at least a sexual relationship with me. That would be better than nothing, though it more than likely won't last long. Harry gave a bitter smile; Still, I would rather have at least a little bit of him than nothing at all. As Shakespeare said, 'It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.'

Of course, Harry purposefully ignored the feeling of absolute desolation that would completely consume him when Draco, inevitably, broke it off, (not to mention the excruciating pain he would feel every time he looked at Draco, only to be ignored or sneered at as if he were the scum of the earth) but he couldn't afford to acknowledge it.

He wanted a relationship with Draco so bad, and had for so long, that he was willing to risk his future mental health.

Such is the power of love.


Or the refusal to love, at least on Draco's part.

While Harry was busy in the kitchen, Draco was busy in his room, primping for a night out.

He had decided that his earlier solution for his unwanted attraction to Harry had been the correct one; going out and finding someone to work the sexual tension out with—preferably a man—was what he would do.

His parents wouldn't care that he went out, and would've even been surprised that had he stayed in that night.

Draco had dressed to kill in low-slung jeans and a charcoal button-up shirt that only had the middle button fastened, revealing a pale, flat stomach. He had tennis shoes on his feet and a jacket that was present only to create a bigger impact when it was removed.

He had purposefully accentuated his slim, almost girlish figure, in hopes of better attracting a man. Not that this meant he would be willing to bottom, he just thought it would make it easier.

When he arrived at the club, an exclusive place that was very selective about who they let in, he discarded his coat and went to join the throng on the dance floor.

He danced like he usually did, very provocatively so he soon had people practically drooling on him, and he soon attracted a thin, dark man with an air of danger about him.

They didn't dance for very long after that, they were too aroused by each other, so they made their way to a hotel room the guy was staying in.

Apparently he was on vacation from the capital, Guilder (1), and had gone out that night looking for some fun.

He'd found it, alright.

Unfortunately, to Draco's irritation and the guy's disgust, Draco found himself aroused by the man, because he rather reminded him of Harry, but found that having sex with the man did nothing to ease this arousal.

He found himself subconsciously comparing Harry and the man many times, until, after the man had been well sated as an apology, Draco left, frustrated and humiliated. He quickly banished thoughts of trying again that night—it was nearly one in the morning—instead resolving to try again the next, at a different club.

The next day Draco spent his time avoiding Harry at all costs—not really a hard thing to do—and when night finally rolled around, was sure that he would get to exercise out the building sexual tension within him.

To his consternation, that night went much the same as the last, only with a girl this time, and Draco was again left with a bruised ego and a hard-on. He resolved to try again the next night, but that too was unsuccessful.

Draco's nights out continued in much the same way for about two weeks, gradually worsening until his partners couldn't get any sort of response out of him, unless he was thinking about a certain green-eyed servant.

He, however, refused to have sex with someone while thinking of someone else. It struck him as being just plain wrong that his full attention was not focused on his actual partner but instead on someone he'd kissed once.

One night, about two weeks after Harry and Draco's kiss, after another unsuccessful night out at the clubs, Draco slammed into his room, uncaring whether or not his parents heard him, and flopped angrily on his bed.

He lay there brooding darkly about his lack of a response to a particularly handsome man earlier that night when a soft tap came at the door.

"What?" he snapped irritably, thinking it was one of his parents.

The door opened and, to his surprise, Harry stepped through, giving him a lovely Zen smile. "Ah, Master Draco, I noticed that you have not been eating very well lately so I decided to bring you up some beef and vegetable soup. I hope that was alright."

Harry's slightly raspy voice affected Draco like a sensual caress, sending shivers of sensation over his body and straight to his groin.

"Master Draco?" asked Harry with a frown, stepping closer. He'd seen the shivers rack Draco's body and was concerned that the other might be catching a cold or something. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," Draco gasped out around the new sensations plaguing him, "Just please stop talking."

Harry obediently fell silent while Draco tried to gather his thoughts. Suddenly, watching Harry shift nervously from foot to foot, everything fell into place.

"That's it!" Draco gasped, staggering to his feet. He realized that the reason he had not been able to react properly o anyone he'd picked up at the clubs was that his overwhelming desire for Harry had been screwing (pardon the pun) with his libido.

So, he concluded, striding purposefully over to a startled Harry, Once I've had my fill of him in my bed, I'll be fine!

Gently, Draco removed the tray with the seaming soup on it from Harry's hands and set it on a nearby table.

Then, slowly, he reached up and pulled Harry's mouth down to his for a slow, sensual kiss.

At first, Harry was frozen in shock—he'd expected at least another week before Draco got it through his thick skull that it was Harry he wanted and not someone else—then he came alive, arms snaking around Draco's waist to meld them together from thigh to chest.

The ferocity with which Harry returned his kiss made Draco gasp in surprise, which Harry took as an invitation into his mouth.

Lifting him off his feet, giving him better access to the side of his neck and ear, Harry carried Draco to the huge bed dominating the room and they fell together in a tangle of arms and limbs, hungrily devouring each other.

At first, Draco tried to fight for dominance with every searing kiss in every mind-blowing place, but gradually, he let Harry have control, content to sit back let Harry melt his mind into a great big puddle of goo.

He, however, had never bottomed before, so, when Harry, having already gotten rid of all that pesky clothing, got ready to enter him, he panicked.

"Wait!" he cried, though the need to have Harry inside of him, possessing him completely, was on the verge of robbing him of all conscious thought.

Harry paused, seeing the distress on Draco's face.

"What is it, love?" he purred throatily, sending shivers down Draco's spine, reminding him of something more…interesting that mouth could be doing. Something having to do with Harry's tongue wrapping around and sucking Draco's…Draco gasped as Harry bent to nibble the side of his neck, a definite sweet spot.

"Uh, well, it's just that I've never bottomed before," Draco choked out, biting back another gasp as Harry began to trail fiery kisses down his chest.

Harry looked up at Draco, a hint of devilment in his eyes, "Oh, is that all? And here I thought it was something serious. Good thing I'm prepared."

Leaning off the bed, Harry snatched up his ragged jeans and dug in the pockets, pulling out a bottle of lube he'd purchased the day before.

When he'd bought it, it had been an impulse buy, he wasn't even sure he'd get to use it it on the person he really wanted to, but now he was glad he did.

Draco's eyes widened when he saw the bottle; he hadn't thought Harry would be the kind of guy that would carry something like that around with him, but, hey, to each his own.

Which gave birth to a new, more startling question: how much sexual experience did Harry actually have?

Judging on the way he had conducted himself so far, Draco assumed that it had to be almost as much as he had, which is to say, a lot. For some reason, Draco found this conclusion rather disturbing, but he was quickly distracted from it by the sensation of Harry slowing sliding into him.

Draco gasped in pain, and then pleasure and Harry was blown away by the feeling of being inside of Draco, possessing him completely.

He figured that Draco would never belong to him in the way that he wanted, but at least for this moment in time, Draco belonged completely to him and only to him. Even if Draco completely shattered his heart he would always cherish these moments.

It wasn't long after that that Draco was screaming out his climax, calling Harry's name over and over as Harry hit his sweet spot with each powerful thrust.

Harry's own climax came hard on the heels of Draco's, and he came with a hoarse shout, calling Draco's name, collapsing wearily on top of Draco, who was equally tired.

Tiredly, he reached out and grabbed a stray napkin from Draco's long-forgotten dinner tray, using it to wipe up the seed—Draco's—that was covering both of their chests.

That done, he discarded the napkin and snuggled with the half-asleep Draco under the covers, un-caring of all the chores, duties, and sure separation from is love awaiting him in the morning.

He was with his love right then, and they'd just finished having the most mind-blowing sex of his life (that's right, he was very experienced, but only through imaging his lover as Draco—he hadn't the qualms about that kind of thing Draco did). He couldn't care less about anything, or anyone else.

With a satisfied sigh, he buried his face in the sleeping Draco's hair and promptly fell asleep.

Both completely unaware of the events they had just set in motion…


(1) Just paying a tribute to the master-William Goldman (or S. Morgenstern, at least according to Mr. Goldman)

Well then, another chapter, finished! I apologize for the vagueness of that little Lemon scene at the end, but I can't write Lemons for the life of me. Maybe I'll work on it and put in another, better one, later.

Remember, same rules apply to this chapter as the last two, I want reviews! PLEASE! *cries*

Anyway, random trivia question, if you fell like trying to guess, even though there wasn't much description:

Who was the guy that Draco hooked up with that first night at that club?

Remember, thin, dark one with the air of danger? He is frequently paired with Neville Longbottom (who will be in this fic, feel free to guess who he'll be playing!) or Draco. I'll reveal the answer next chapter but feel free to guess if you like. Oh, and who do you guys think would make the best Inigo Montoya and Vizzini?

I already have the people picked out, even written up to that part, but I'm curious to know what you guys think.

Something to think about while you wait for the next chapter.

Ciao,

Waffles