Chapter 4

Harry did not return to the hospital wing.

Instead he sat alone in his bed staring intently at his potions textbook, but everything about it seemed to only serve as a reminder of a certain fair-haired wanker.

Groaning he lay back on his bed.

Had Malfoy been meaning to kiss him? He wondered.

And if so, did he actually want him to?

He had very nearly let him.

Ron entered and collapsed on his bed.

You all right mate? He asked Harry who just nodded in return.

Hermione is all kinds of crazy, you know that? Three hours she had me working on that bloody essay, and then she says it isn't good enough!

Harry laughed. Knowing Ron, that was probably the longest he had every worked on a single assignment.

Women, Ron sighed. Speaking of, how's it going with you and Ginny? Ron asked, giving him a knowing look.

Harry looked uncertain. They didn't exactly have an established relationship. And he knew how protective Ron could get. Sure they had shared a few longing looks and kisses, but how was he to know whether it would lead anywhere?

I'm all for it, you should know. She's crushed on you since even before you two met.

Ron probably intended it to sound supportive, but it only served to magnify his confusion. How was he supposed to figure out what he wanted with people around him thinking they already knew?

Thanks, he said with a modicum of uncertainty. He smiled weakly. I'll keep that in mind.

Deciding to clear his mind, he took to strolling the grounds before supper.

The weather had turned sour, so he was confident he would be undisturbed.

With the wind biting his cheeks and the rain blurring his spectacles, he wandered aimlessly. Reaching Hagrid's cottage, he peered through the window but saw to his dismay that the lights were off. As he made his way back to the castle, the weather took a turn for the worse. The rain was coming down hard, dousing his cloak entirely. Reaching the grand oak doors, he entered and breathed with relief as the warmth enveloped him. Still soaked, he left a messy trail of rainwater and mud after himself.

Draco was frustrated.

He had finally been released from the hospital wing, after a particularly heated debate with Pomfrey.

She had dealt him a number of vials to take at different intervals for the next couple of days. It will probably scar, she said matter of factly.

Draco snorted, thinking she could learn a thing or two about proper bedside manner.

Pansy had brought him a change of clothes, no doubt hoping he would let her stay, as he got dressed. Not bloody likely, he thought and asked her in his sweetest tone to please go fetch him a mug of tea. Without pause she grinned and went to do his bidding. Too easy, he thought, rolling his eyes as he dressed in private and walked out.

He bit his lip at the memory of Potter.

He couldn't help himself; he flushed like a damned schoolgirl at the thought of him.

Funny how mingled, hate and lust is, he thought. He couldn't decide whether to kill him or snog him silly.

Turning a corner he was met with a pair of wide green eyes.

Potter was drenched top to bottom, carrying his robes under his arm, revealing his see through white shirt, clinging to his chest.

If only I had waited around the corner, I would have felt him flush against me. Potter had taken off his glasses revealing his radiant emerald eyes.

I'll snog him, then I'll kill him, he thought merrily.

Malfoy, Potter said in surprise, you're out then?

Master at stating the bloody obvious he thought, but refrained from saying anything of the sorts. Catch more bees with honey, yes?

They couldn't keep me in there forever, he replied donning a charming smile he knew made witches and wizards go weak at the knees. He noted with satisfaction that Potter's cheeks visibly reddened.

He couldn't rush this. If he wanted Potter, he would have to work slowly, seducing him into submission. The only way to get what he wanted was to make Potter think he was making his own decisions. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.

How's your bum? He continued.

Potter stared in disbelief. Excuse me?

He enjoyed watching Potter squirm. You took a rather nasty tumble, no?

Oh…

He almost saw the cogs fall into place in Potter's head.

Yeah I'm fine.

Can I kiss it better, he imagined himself saying. The thought of Potter spluttering was almost too good. The prospect of Potter giving into him however was even better.

So… what were you doing in the bathroom, anyway? Potter asked with some hesitance.

Draco cringed at the memory. Remembering his mission, his father's angry determination, and his mother's passivity. The mere idea of Potter being witness to his moment of weakness made him feel ill.

Before he could reply, Potter spoke again.

You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.

Draco stared in disbelief.

He must have emitted some horrid wounded dear expression for Potter to react like that. Adopting his signature smirk, he did his best to change the subject.

Did you take a dip in the lake? He asked confidently, giving Potter a once over. I would strongly advice to getting undressed prior to submerging yourself.

You would like that wouldn't you, he told himself, Potter all wet and glistening…

Potter smiled. Just decided to take a walk outside, not my brightest moment, I admit.

Draco suppressed the urge to snort. Speeding things up, he neared the drenched man.

You've got… Draco began and raised a hand towards Potter's wild mane.

He looked uneasy but allowed the proximity.

A leaf, he said triumphantly, drawing it out of his hair and presenting it to him.

Potter raised his hand and grasped it, their fingers brushing against one another. A ripple of warmth spread through him at their contact. He had never met anyone who affected him like this. It was sublime.

Instead of drawing his hand back, Potter kept it there, staring curiously at their hands. Like he was solving a puzzle.

Draco upped the game by stepping just a few inches closer. Potter didn't seem to mind. Instead he linked their fingers together. He wondered briefly if his fingers were directly linked to his cock, which twitched appreciatively at Potter's ministrations.

Their attraction was volatile, and completely indisputable.

What are you thinking, Draco asked as softly as he could muster.

Green eyes met his. And he burned.

I'm confused, he whispered.

About? He asked, feigning ignorance. He bit his bottom lip to look as innocent as possible. Potter gaze caressed his every movement.

You, he said simply.

Give in, Draco's mind screamed. If Potter could just muster up some of that Gryffindor courage, I could show him the true meaning of pleasure.

Potter had a scent of summer rain. He wanted to bathe in it.

Before he could have a change of heart Draco raised their joint hands to his mouth. Potter just stared.

Brushing his lips on his knuckles, he noted with joy that Potter struggled to breath properly.

That's right, Potty, he thought; imagine me doing that somewhere else, he thought as he planted a kiss on the back of his hand.

Something snapped in Potter and he raised his hand to grasp the back of Draco's head. That's it, he thought. Don't be shy.

Potter's strong hand held him, stroking the hairs at his neck making him sigh in contentment. Tracing the back of his hand with his tongue he heard Potter moan audibly.

Merlin, he thought. Wanting nothing more than to hear that lovely sound again.

Potter was so close now. His breathing erratic and mixing with his own, his scent invading his senses.

Until it wasn't. The warmth left his side, his hand snatched from Draco's grasp.

Potter mumbled something and walked off.

He stared in disbelief at the spot in front of him.

A pool of water in lieu of the man he had intended to shag senseless.

He was flushed, hard, and annoyed.

Turning he caught a last glimpse of Potter before he turned a corner.

You're an Idiot, Potter! He called out as he disappeared from view.

Glancing down he saw the tent pitched as a result of their proximity.

Potter was like an itch he could not scratch.