Draco Malfoy and his Unknown Fate:

Author's Notes: Yet another chapter is out. The Parseltongue spoken in this chapter isn't noticed by anyone else, mostly because I don't think the hissing of a snake is very audible. It would probably sound like the wind or rustling fabric and with a class full of students from two houses a bit of hissing would definitely go unnoticed. Just in case you were curious. And once more, there is smut. Though not Harry/Draco smut. More like Draco/Draco smut. But we're getting there!

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Masturbation? Or would that be auto-fellatio? Anyway, just read.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This will be slash (eventually). Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

The Slytherin team trampled Hufflepuff into the ground, managing to give their Keeper a concussion with a well placed bludger and one of their beaters a dislocated shoulder thanks to a nasty cobbing incident. Hufflepuff games were always so boring Greg and Vince took to playing whack the Hufflepouf, which often led to amusing injuries and many called fouls. Pucey allowed it since the penalty shots the other team got for it didn't even come close to closing the lead between them and it was really the only way to make the game even vaguely interesting.

Draco caught the snitch only eight minutes into the game, which was a record for him. The little golden ball had been fluttering behind the Slytherin goal post farthest to the right and the other Seeker Ernie MacMillian, who had been on the other side of the pitch, didn't even have a chance of catching it. Winning was wonderful of course, but once the Hufflepuff game was over and done with, all he had left to concentrate on was the upcoming Ball and how he wanted straddle Potter's lap and snog him senseless.

It got so bad that he completely phased out during their shared Defense Against the Dark Arts class. If Lupin noticed Draco's blatant staring or glazed expression he was kind enough not to mention it in front of the class. Sitting next to Pansy, (who had drawn the short straw and was taking notes for everyone to copy later) he rested his elbow on the desk and cradled his chin in his hand, going off into a daze of fantasies involving the use of Gryffindor ties as bondage aids.

Lupin was rambling on about the natural habitat of giants (boring) and everyone was pretty much zoning out on the lecture, except for Granger of course, whose quill was moving faster than the speed of light. The Weasel had fallen asleep from what Draco could tell and Potter, who was sitting in the aisle seat, had rested his head on his arms. Draco had a direct line of sight to the Gryffindor who was sitting one seat up and across the aisle from him. His glasses were crooked and his head was tilted forward so the back of his neck was exposed. It looked so vulnerable like that, with a few dark wisps of hair coming to a point on the nape of his neck. Draco wanted to pet him there, ever so softly, and blow against his neck just to see him shiver.

The Slytherin shifted in his seat and arranged his robes so his erection was less noticeable, tossing his seatmate a warning glance when she snickered knowingly at him. He returning back to his Potter-ponderings, wondering if Lupin was so caught up in his lecture that he wouldn't notice a certain Slytherin sneaking out of his seat and across the floor to slip under Potter's desk and between the sprawl of his legs. In reality, Potter would probably knee him in the face and scream bloody murder, but then again he might just settle down in his seat and let Draco suck him off.

Of course, with Draco's luck Weasley would wake up and do enough screaming for all three of them.

Free blow jobs here, two for one special even! He thought at Potter as hard as he could. Aww, come on. No teeth guarantee. I'll even swallow, promise. Potter stirred in his seat and gave a lazy glance around the classroom, his eyes catching on Draco who made sure he wasn't caught staring. Oh shit, did he hear me? Potter yawned before resting his head in his arms once more.

Draco tentatively thought at him again. Hey Potter? Hello? He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed when Potter didn't move again. Of course he knew for a fact the Boy Who Lived wasn't psychic or he'd have charged Draco for sexual harassment a long time ago, but Draco had learned the hard way not to underestimate the Gryffindor and magic was a very strange, often times unpredictable, thing.

And then he had a thought that made him smirk mischievously. He turned his head so he was looking at Pansy's Slytherin badge and concentrated on the embroidered snake. After all, now was as good a time as any to find out if Blaise's ring worked. This is so boring. He hissed quietly, startled at the sibilant sounds he made. Ha! This was great! Pansy glanced over at him before shaking her head and returning to her notes, obviously having dismissed the sounds she heard as something else. The hissing was so quiet it was almost sub vocal and as long as no one caught his mouth moving he'd be okay.

Potter sat bolt upright in his seat, head twisting about as he searched urgently for the speaker. "Hermione. Did you hear that?" He whispered to his friend.

"Hear what? Pay attention, Harry. This is important."

"Are you sure? I could have sworn-"

"Is there a problem, Harry? And that's three points from Gryffindor for talking in class. " Lupin said calmly, strolling down the aisle to give Potter a chiding look. Potter blushed and a few snickers filled the room.

"Er, no. No problem at all. Sorry, Professor."

"Right, then. As I was saying, they live in family groups of five or more…" And the lecture droned on once more. Potter sat back in his seat, looking puzzled. Don't think too hard about it. I wouldn't want your brain to explode. Draco hissed again, this time looking at his ring so Pansy didn't get the idea he was ogling her breasts, though considering his preferences that was unlikely.

Who are you? Potter hissed back suspiciously, sinking in his seat so he was less noticeable. The sound of Potter speaking in parseltongue made the hairs on the back of Draco's neck prickle. It was so hot, in a creepy sort of way, just like he remembered from second year.

Oh, this was fun, though yanking Potter's chain always was. The ghost of Ulric the Oddball. And I'm here to torment you. Heehee. The equivalent of a serpentine giggle slipped out and Draco clamped his lips shut to prevent it from escaping again.

Potter's messy head of hair was craning about every which way and when he looked towards Draco the Slytherin raised one eyebrow and gave him a look that clearly stated he believed the other boy was insane. Blushing, Potter turned back around and ducked his head down. Ulric the Oddball, my arse. Hissed the Gryffindor golden boy.

Your arse, indeed. And what a very nice arse it is. It took a Herculean amount of effort not to burst into laughter at the look that flashed across Potter's face at hearing this. Draco hadn't thought it was possible for someone's eyes to get quite that big.

Who are you? And where are you? Are you a snake? Then as an afterthought he hissed vehemently. And leave my arse out of this!

Draco couldn't help it, hearing that scandalized tone in Parseltongue made him burst into giggles. Actual giggles! It was bad enough he had to laugh, but sounding like a third year Hufflepuff girl wasn't exactly helping matters. Pansy was looking at him incredulously. "Mr. Malfoy, is there something you find amusing about giants slaughtering helpless villages?" Potter was eyeing him suspiciously with narrowed eyes. Damn it.

"Uh, no Professor. I apologize. I was just remembering a joke someone told me. I didn't mean to disturb your class." He smiled up angelically at the werewolf, ignoring Pansy's snort of derision at his attempt to appear innocent.

Lupin gave him a warning look, but continued on. "Five points from Slytherin. Just don't do it again, Mr. Malfoy. As I was saying, there were three hundred and seventy five casualties that day. Now, if you remember the Goblin-Giant wars covered in History of Magic…"

Malfoy? Potter hissed questioningly once things had settled down again.

Yes, he has a nice arse too. What about it? He made sure his head was turned towards Pansy as he spoke Parseltongue and he pinched his own thigh hard to prevent the laughter that bubbled up inside him from escaping.

Apparently, Potter wasn't going to touch that one. Is that you Malfoy? Draco decided not to answer. He'd flirted long enough with the Boy Who Had No Clue. That, and he knew it would drive Potter absolutely insane.

Potter questioned him several more times, but Draco kept silent, far too busy enjoying the Gryffindor's frustration to spoil his own fun. Eventually, Potter settled down for a sulk and Draco went back to his familiar habit of discretely staring at him and wishing he was naked.

Potter's brow was knit with concentration and he paused to take off his glasses and rub his eyes before polishing his spectacles on his robes. Draco had noticed those ugly glasses were almost always smudged or held together with spellotape of some sort, though all thoughts fled his mind once Potter had taken them off. Their removal left his brilliant green eyes open and unshielded for a few moments, which managed to rivet Draco's attention. Potter's hands were calloused and tan, working skillfully to wipe off the lens of his glasses as he squinted at them critically. The Gryffindor put them back on and slumped in his seat, obviously stumped at the situation.

Not that Draco cared because he was too busy undressing Potter with his eyes.

He let his gaze linger on the curve of Potter's cheek and the swell of his broad shoulder, dragging his eyes down to the outline of one thigh under the obscuring robes. Wizarding society was so modest that even the sight of Potter's bare throat revealed by his undone tie was immensely erotic. And the memory of those tight Quidditch trousers was enough to make Draco drool.

Unfortunately, the myriad of images managed to revive his erection again and he spent the rest of the class fidgeting in his chair and making sure his hands were on his desk at all times lest he start rubbing at his crotch subconsciously. The last time he'd done that had been during a Quidditch match he'd been watching during his fifth year (A Gryffindor-Ravenclaw one now that he thought about it, damn Potter's flying skills anyway) and Pansy had spent the rest of the month teasing him mercilessly for it. But oh, the boy knew how to fill out a pair of trousers.

By the time class ended he could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and he knew there was a damp spot on his trousers. Thankfully, robes were not only concealing, but thick and dark enough so that any moisture produced wouldn't show up. "See you in Care of Magical Creatures." He muttered hurriedly to Pansy and dashed out of the room as quickly as possible. He walked swiftly through the hallway, making a left and hurrying down a moving staircase before it shifted so that he ended up in an empty corridor. Draco strode towards a likely looking classroom, slipping inside and looking about.

Thankfully enough it was empty and abandoned, the perfect place to get rid of his problem. He shrugged off his robes and took a seat on the teacher's desk, a huge walnut monstrosity he probably could have laid down on if he'd wished to. Sitting would do the job though, so he didn't bother with anything else. Draco patted his pockets down for his wand, finding it and casting the spell he had in mind quickly. It was a harmless spell, if a rather obscure one, mostly used by contortionists that made bones pliable.

Draco unzipped his pants with a sigh of relief, taking his hard and leaking cock out of his pants. Then, with the charm doing what it was supposed to, he bent in half and took his erection into his mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of his mouth being filled so perfectly and hummed, pleased at the vibrations it caused. Sucking cock was one of his favorite pastimes, though to be honest he'd only practiced on his own. It was one situation in which he'd attempted to find out if practice did indeed make perfect. Though, really who could blame him?

The Slytherin used his tongue liberally, prodding at the sensitive slit and swirling it around the head of his cock. With all the talking he did he hadn't been very surprised with how skillfully he could use it. Draco controlled his breathing carefully and took his erection in all the way, deep-throating it easily and swallowing around the hard length in his throat. The rhythm he set was steady, but fast and he made sure to tongue the sensitive head of his cock every time he pulled up. One of his hands had slipped into his trousers to play with his balls while the other steadied him on the desk as he worked his mouth quickly on his own erection. It was surprising how hard it was to balance when one was busy practicing fellatio on themselves.

He managed to make his moans relatively quiet, though the wet sounds his mouth made couldn't quite be helped. The dry finger he pressed inside himself carefully was what put him over the edge and he swallowed his own come, shuddering and breathing unevenly. He pulled off with a last slurp and tucked him cock away. Draco licked his lips carefully, savoring the salty taste as he put his robe back on and tidied himself up. A swish and flick of his wand followed by "Finite Incantatum." rendered his bones normal once more. He set off towards Hagrid's cabin with a smile on his face. Ten minutes to get off, with five left to reach his destination before he was late.

And if his lips were a little swollen when he arrived to class, who was going to notice?

To be Continued

Comments and constructive criticism are more than welcome.