A/N: So here's the next chapter!! I hope you like it and don't forget to tell me what you think. Thanks to all those who have already reviewed… *tosses cookie at reviewers*. XD

Enjoy--

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"Draco," the name was like a whisper. He wouldn't have believed it existed if he hadn't felt the burn in his arm at the sound.

He straightened in the desk that sat in his room. He stared into the mirror on the back of the desk, waiting for the Dark Lord's face to appear.

He tried not to flinch when it did.

"Yes," he answered.

"You have news for me?"

Draco nodded.

"Yes, my Lord," he said, "Dumbledore has canceled the Hogsmeade trip this weekend."

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed.

"Do you think he knows?"

"No," Draco said, shaking his head, "I believe he just suspects. He can't possibly know our plan to attack Hogsmeade."

The Dark Lord was frowning slightly.

"Very well then," he said finally. "We'll just have to postpone. Is that all then, Draco?"

"Yes, my Lord."

The Dark Lord nodded, and then his face was gone.

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There was a noise coming from the Forbidden Forest. He felt his heart jump, and his eyes scanned the dark trees, but he did not see anything. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at his own jumpiness.

He continued walking until he reached the black late. Sitting down beside it, he stared out across the lake.

He didn't know how much time was passing. The darkness somehow calmed him, more so then being where he was supposed to be.

The stars were dull that night, but the air was warm. He leaned over the water, inhaling the sweet smell of the lake water. He eyes looked down and he caught a his reflection.

A reflection with jet black hair and shocking green eyes.

His eyes flew open. The lake was gone; it was just his room now. He rolled onto his stomach, straining to keep the dream from slipping out of his memory. He had been at the Black Lake, just like the dark figure he had been seeing the last few nights….

And he had been Potter.

He jumped out of bed, his mind reeling. He crossed quickly to the window, but nothing was there. There wasn't a shape moving across the grounds, or sitting by the lake. He hadn't really expected there to be either, he usually saw them earlier than now.

He could, though he doubted this, be imagining it all. He couldn't explain why he felt so sure that he wasn't.

He assumed the part of him that was sure was the same part of him that was now sure that the dark figure was Potter. Logically, his reason for this made no sense. It could be anyone, his dream didn't prove anything.

But he didn't want to think too much about the dream right then. The thought that he had dreamt of Potter at all was disturbing.

Sighing, he gave up at staring out the window and went back to bed.

He would get Potter to confess that morning.

It wasn't as hard as he had thought. He knew getting Potter to prove Draco's theory wouldn't be that hard, but there was no way that he could have guessed that it would be that easy. He usually wasn't overestimating Potter. It was a strange feeling.

He cornered him after potions. He waited until Weasley and Granger had gone and left Potter packing his potions things, something they were doing more and more of since they had started dating. Draco preferred not to think about this; the thought of the two of them reproducing made him want to throw up.

"Potter," he said, glancing quickly around them to make sure that no one was within listening distance.

Potter glanced up at him, but didn't say anything. Close up, Draco could see bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted.

"I know what you're doing."

Potter raised his eyebrows at him.

"Do you mean packing up my potions things," He said quietly, "because that one is a bit obvious."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"No, Potter," he said, "I don't. What I mean is, I know it's you that is sneaking onto the grounds at night."

Potter went white.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, avoiding Draco's eyes. He grabbed his book bag and shoved past Draco. Draco smirked after him.

"Oh, I'm sure you don't," he drawled. "You really are the world's worst liar, Potter."

He stopped walking, but didn't turn back around to face Draco. Draco stared at his back, waiting for him to fire back a retort, but after a few seconds, he only heard him sigh deeply and continue walking.

He smirked again, but a part of him was curious. Where was the rash Potter that would have at least punched him by now? Potter had no business being sullen and quiet when Draco wanted a fight with him.

He also found it strange that he wanted a fight at all. He had thought he had grown past this. Could it be that Potter was maturing and Draco wasn't?

He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Of course that wasn't true. The day that Potter was more mature than him would be the day Weasley became new savior of the Wizarding World.

He shook his head, still smiling to himself, and left the potions room.

Around the corner, leaning against the wall, was Potter. His head snapped up when Draco walked by, and Draco's mouth nearly fell open. Why would Potter by waiting for him; for that appeared to be what he was doing.

"Malfoy, wait." He said, pushing himself off of the wall and crossing over to him.

"What do you want, Potter?" He said. "I thought we had finished this?"

Potter continued as though Draco hadn't spoken at all.

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

Draco opened his mouth, ready to lie, but the look of desperation in Potter's eyes stopped him. He stood for a moment, transfixed by the emotion shown in that brilliant green, before snapping out of it.

"I saw you," he said simply, still watching Potter's eyes.

The desperation didn't disappear, but it did fade. Draco couldn't tell what it was replaced with.

"You won't tell anyone?"

Draco shook his head. It was better to have something to hold over Potter's head, he knew this.

A new emotion came, and this one Draco could name.

Relief.

Potter nodded and wordlessly walked away. Draco watched him go, feeling a strange emptiness at the loss of the sight of those eyes.

He wanted to see more of them, of what they could express. He had never seen eyes that clear.

The more he thought about it, the more attractive the idea became to him. He decided to do something about it; something that would give him what he wanted and possibly hurt Potter also in the process.

Draco was already curious about Potter. This definitely couldn't hurt.

What, after all, was a kiss?