Hey!

I believe it did not pass quite as long as last time... or did it? I have updated a different story in between these updates at least, so maybe that's why I feel like it. Either way, it is still a long time ago, and I apologise. Can't even begin to imagine the amount of readers I must have lost because of it. I know that I usually stop reading things with too long between updates. :/

Anyway, this chapter introduces some of the real story. Yay! That only took 10 chapters...^^;;

Well, read on, my dears. And send me lovely reviews when you are done:D

Chapter 10

As the blonde circled in on him, Harry felt a slight panic rise in his mind. That was it! Malfoy would pounce and do god-knew-what with him and all of his plans to turn into a normal boy would be spoiled because of the git!

"You look tense..." Malfoy whispered, his voice husky.

Harry tried to suppress a shiver. This was not good. Not good at all. He needed to do something to stop Malfoy's approach, and fast! But what would he do? And then it hit him.

"Stop Malfoy! You can't go after me just yet!"

The blonde simply raised a brown at that, pausing his movement. He wanted to ask why that was, but Harry ploughed on, carelessly ripping his shirt up, showing off his pale stomach.

"I'm still all ugly and maimed! You should be backing off in disgust!"

Malfoy stopped completely and then burst out laughing. Basically doubling over from laughter. Harry didn't really see the hilarity in that, but he saw an opportunity where it existed. Twisting the key the rest of the way, he quickly unlocked the door and slipped in, being careful to lock it behind him.

"Phew!"

He had escaped from him for now. Falling back on his bed, Harry felt the tension begining to melt away. At least it did until he heard a scraping on the door and the lock began to turn. Oh crap!, was the only thing Harry could think, Malfoy had a key to the room too.

So when the blonde turned down the handle and stepped into the room, Harry was halfway out of the window.

"Really, now, Potter," Malfoy tsk'ed, "we're on the third floor. Surely even you realise that you might hurt yourself, jumping from here? And then I would be forced to wait for yet another month 'till I can allow myself to ravage you." He followed it up with a dramatic sigh and shake of the head.

The brunette seriously considered throwing himself out, simply because it would win him freedom for a while longer. But then he calmed down. He really didn't feel like breaking a leg because of Malfoy, after all, he was supposed to make sure the blonde wouldn't matter to him any more, wasn't he? Nodding to himself, Harry sat back on his haunches, watching Malfoy watch him. Warily, he edged closer to the edge of the desk.

"I'm gonna get down now, Malfoy. But no sudden moves, al-right?"

He got a smirk and a nod in return and, figuring it was good enough, slid down. The blonde hadn't got any closer yet, and he took it as a good sign. Harry sat down in one of the chair, afraid that sitting on the bed might trigger the other's predatory instincts. It wasn't until then that Malfoy moved, throwing himself down on his bed. No inhibitions there, Harry noticed. Or he wanted Harry to throw himself at him. Looking at Malfoy's lecherous smirk, he thought he had hit jackpot with that guess.

Silence reigned for a long time in the room, then Malfoy spoke up.

"Really, Harry, you don't have to sit at full alert. I'm not going to attack you like a savage beast, you know. I have a bit more refinement than that."

"Oh, do you really?" Harry bit back, annoyed for some reason, "I hadn't noticed, being so busy avoiding you raping me."

"Now, now, rape is a bit of a harsh way to call it, isn't it. Some parts of you didn't seem all too against my advances."

And then he had the gall to wriggle his eyebrows at Harry, who exploded.

"Argh! You damn perverted snob!" He rose from his chair in anger, "If you have nothing of importance to tell, get the hell out of my room!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, really! Get the hell out!"

Malfoy only shrugged.

"Well, I suppose I could. But then again, this is my room too, is it not?" He eyed Harry with a cocky smirk on his lips. "And I remember that somebody promised that I could return to the room."

"Ah...!" Harry was at a loss of words for a moment, before he regained himself. "That invitation was revoked!"

"Yes, so I recall. But really, Harry dear, did you even expect that I would care for your invitation? When I see something I want I simply take it, or make sure it comes to me." And he leered at the brunette, who found himself recoiling.

"You're sick, Malfoy."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Tell me something I haven't heard before."

And then, to Harry's great suprise, the blonde turned over in the bed and told him to "bugger off, I'm going to take a nap."

It was eerie, Harry decided. He was staring at Malfoy's back as it moved from the man's heavy breathing. Malfoy was asleep. He was even snoring a little, something that Harry did absolutely not find endearing. Not one bit. But even more astonishing than the snores were the fact that he actually dared sleeping in front of Harry. He knew Harry detested him, so why could he sleep so calmly when he might get... well, Harry wasn't exactly sure what he would do, but... That wasn't the main issue. The main issue was how Malfoy could hold such trust in him.

Trust.

Malfoy couldn't possibly trust him, they had never spoke enough to get to know the other. Or maybe Harry was simply over-exaggerating the issue. While it was true that he had every right to fear sleeping in Malfoy's proximity, the blonde was not the one who risked getting attacked. No, from the start and on, it had only been Harry. So it was time to let the issue go. And to stop staring at him. Stop noticing the way his pants followed the line of his ass, and the muscle tone in the git's arms.

Harry turned away abruptly, cheeks burning. It was time to stop this madness once and for all! He just needed to come up with a good plan. There had to be some way to get Malfoy of his back. What did he despise most of all things?

Ugliness! Yes, that was it! Harry punched the air in a victorious gesture. He would simply have to mess himself up, and Malfoy would never try to touch him ever again. So what did he need? A knife, or something else that was sharp. His eye fell on the desk, where an innocent letter opener laid. It would do. Reaching out for the opener, Harry stopped.

"What the hell am I doing?"

That was no way to go about it. Why would he have to mutilate himself because of the blonde? Really, how had he even managed to come up with the thought to do it? Harry ran a hand through his dark hair. Desperation was truly a dangerous thing.

Malfoy shifted in his sleep, and Harry's attention got caught by how the shirt stretched against his stomach. He gulped. And ran out of the room. There could be no thinking going on in there.

As the door slammed shut, Draco lazily opened his eyes. He had awoken by Harry's sudden exclamation, and had marvelled over the fact that the brunette had not yet escaped the room. Could it have been progress? But then again, as he had rolled over, pretending to be asleep, in order to take a peek at what Potter was doing, Potter had left.

That had been disappointing. He had almost been expecting to find the brunette in his bed, gazing with adoring eyes at Draco. He had a tendency to be overly positive when newly awoken, at least when his dreams had been good. And they had been. Or they could be at least be not be called nightmares. But this one had been particular. Potter had been in it, Draco recalled, but he wasn't fucking him into the ground as in his usual dreams. The blonde couldn't remember any more particulars about it, but it left him with a feeling he couldn't determine.. Sappy was the closest he could come to describe it. A nasty feeling, truly. A Malfoy never had those kinds of emotions.

He shook his head. It was a stupid dream, nothing else. Potter was about to break and once he did, Draco would give him the best sex of his life and then ditch him, leaving the poor sob lusting for more. Oh, but it would be wonderful, finally getting Potter's stubborn ass in his hands. Draco loved the thrill of the chase, but spend too long on the same prey without any development would drive him crazy. He never slept with anyone but the prey until the chase was done. It was a policy of his, a rule set with the intention to make it all the more thrilling, and all the more satisfying.

But it seemed like his approach didn't work too well with Potter. As much as it disgusted him to do so, he could remember how the brunette had reacted to him in the car. They had actually been talking, and well, something in Harry's eyes had made him feel like he had got closer to achieving his goal than ever.

The only problem was that a change in his approach now would be hard. Potter had reacted with insane panic when he had just heard his voice, so Draco needed a way to calm him down before any talking could take place. The question was only, how was it to be made.

A distraction, perhaps, something that would be large enough to let Draco get close to him and talk, but not big enough to take all his attention... If the nouveau-riche had an accident? No. He shook his head and stood up, pacing in the room. It would never work. A distraction wasn't the right way to go ahead with things. What was needed was something more discrete. A commonly shared interest that would let his prey overcome his fear and sniffle closer, intrigued?

No, another head shake. It wasn't good enough. For all he knew Potter might not even have such an interest.

And then it hit him. It was so obvious that he felt like laughing. What they needed was a common enemy. It would take over all negative emotions, leaving Harry with nothing but positive toward Draco. And if Draco really felt like getting the man attached to him, he might even stage a nice little rescue. Oh, they all fell like flies for that one.

Settling down on the bed, Draco started planning.

If Harry had known about the plan, he would probably have laughed, for a long time, and called it idiotic. However, not at that particular moment. There isn't many who enjoy meeting a man that is quite a bit taller than them, and most likely stronger, that faces you with a bat in their hands, one that they carry in a menacing way.

"Are you Harry Potter?"

Harry nodded, out of reflex rather than free will, and regretted it the moment after as the bat flew through the air toward his head. Harry threw himself backwards, falling on his ass from the force of it.

"Bloody hell!"

Though he felt like saying so much more, the man had soon recovered his stance and attacked again, and Harry turned and scrambled away. He had no idea what was going on, but he was damn sure that that man was not the right person to ask.

Hehe... Cliffhanger. I realise I shouldn't be allowed since I'm a slow updater, but I just can't help myself.

Feel free to R&R to rant at me for doing this^^