A/N in General: For those of you who read my last chapter, and are now only reading it because of a hinted "flesh fest," well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Everything in this chapter is very tasteful. At least, I hope it is. This is the first time I've ever written anything like this. I tried, I really did.

Rating Rationale: R for language, but this chapter might be NC-17, just because it revolves around a very physical encounter. But I tried to do it politely, so I don't think the story's overall rating will change, because really, it's not that bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or Draco, but I do own a goldfish named Fluffers (short for Fluffy). I do own Aura, but we won't be seeing her again for a while. Oh, and the fixation with the Bohemian monkeys is mine too.

Warning: This story revolves around a SLASH RELATIONSHIP. As in Harry and Draco, together. If you do not like this kind of story, please do not read this! But you know what is sort of upsetting me? The fact that I need to make this a warning. I mean, you don't see huge bolded letters when a story contains a heterosexual relationship. Why should slash be a warning just because it's about two male characters? I'm all for it in to use as an incentive to get people to read, but it's ridiculous for it to be a warning. So, I change my mind. This is not a warning. It is an enticement.

A/N to Mandé: Okay, well, let's see how this goes. I really tried, I promise. Your review determines if this chapter stays up or not! No pressure. :)

A/N to Em: You're not supposed to know who is who yet, and you're welcome. Of course you may use Bohemian monkeys. Although I wouldn't mind a little reference about how I'm the owner of the obsession. **grins**

Sometimes I fear that I went mad long ago, but then I realized that all roads led to madness. Serenity and tranquility are all I ask for now, so I must take the one road that leads to death. It's a cruel journey though. The path is not lined with trees of gold and grass of silver. Silver! Silver and . green. Oh lover, why have you left me? An empty corpse are you. An empty corpse am I. Soon enough, anyway. But the path! The path . it's lined with . memories. All that I remember of you. That's all that I want to remember because any part of me worth its existence was you. I would vow you'd live in me forever, but that pledge is worthless. I could never be your soft skin, your silky hair, your eyes that I would loose myself in whenever I looked. Eyes are the window to the soul. Your eyes, your soul - so beautiful. The rest of you? Perfect. Our one night together - oh, that memory burns so clear and bright on my path. The bond we shared - I swear our hearts were beating in time, our souls pulsating together in an experience that could only be called - what did you call me? The name you had for me, let them burn that into my tombstone. I would rather it be the name you gave me then any other in the world, your name - your lips, your arms! You put them around me, and I was bound to you forever. You kissed me, and my lips would never speak another name. I was yours. You were mine. Now you're gone, and I own nothing and owe nothing. Except to you. I owe you my life, because you gave yours. I damn the day that your life became worth more than mine. Worth more, because I cannot die for you. I would die a thousand times if I could. But you left me with no choice. Instead, I die to be with you.

**

Harry looked into Draco's eyes and his breath caught in his chest. Never had a sight so beautiful been placed before him as Draco staring at him, desire so plainly stated and restrained with such difficulty in his eyes. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this. Well, he had imagined it of course, but dreams could not come close to this.

The two sat there for a while, expressing their love with their eyes. Finally Draco broke the gaze and instead turned towards Harry's lips. He slowly brought a finger up to them, running it gently along the lengths of pink flesh. On his face was a look of deep concentration, as if he were trying to memorize their every line and curve.

Harry lifted Draco's chin to look into his eyes again. "What have I done to deserve you?" he murmured, a smiling creeping up on his face. "It must have been something amazing."

"You came to life, to Hogwarts, and to me. That's amazing enough," responded Draco, covering Harry's lips with his own.

"Chocolate and fire," thought Draco.

"Strawberries and ice," thought Harry.

Chocolate covering strawberries. Sweet juices. Fire melting ice. Ice making the heat bearable. Images of all the elements coming together in utopia came into their minds as they made love with their mouths.

They had found the frequency to unlock the keys to each other's soul. They had found the way to link their fire and ice into a perfect blend of sensation as they held each other in their passionate embrace.

Kisses left lips and began travels down exposed necks, chests and stomachs. Moaning increased as clothing did the opposite. Breath quickened as the universe slowed down. Each second became a memory etched in time, to be preserved and cherished forever.

Sensing a breaking point would soon arrive if the next step was not taken, Harry laid Draco down on his stomach. Pushing aside his hesitations on hearing Draco's soft pleading he gently, so gently, entered his lover.

The whole universe then turned around. Images and feelings were rushing at the pair so fast that control was difficult to sustain. Every thrust brought something new with it. Wind tossed hair. Sweat and saliva. Chocolate covered strawberries.

Harry concluded with a final cry, thrust and shudder. He fell exhausted next to Draco. But soon enough, hot kisses brought him back to life, and the fated lovers continued fulfilling their prophecies until dawn spilled over the horizon on the first day of the Christmas holiday.

Sleepy and sated, the pair lay curled up next to each other, fitting snugly like puzzle pieces. They cuddled together and then slept, the other being for each of them more than enough of a Christmas present.

**

Yeah, I had a pretty good fucking time. Heh. Double innuendo. Want another? Little asshole. It was so wonderful when I could just touch him, and watch the skin bruise beneath my fingertips. The power I had over him, the power I still have over him. Watching him in his anguish turns me on way more than thinking about last night. Not to say that it wasn't a great fuck. I mean, I had a great time. But manipulating him into killing himself is way more arousing than the way I used him last night. Oh well. I suppose everyone does have a purpose, and he'll ultimately prove to be useful - useful if he's dead and out of the way. He's the only one strong enough to defeat me. It's funny, in a way. His strength is his passion, and it's that passion that has made him weak. It will bring about his ultimate downfall.