Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. No I don't wish I did either.

Author's Note: This fanfiction is going to be slash, and involves slashy stuff between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, so if it's not your style, don't read it, for goodness' sakes! May or may not involve, sadism, masochism, sado-masochism, drugs, sex, cutting, torture, blood, violence, etc. Merry reading!

Pamela: errr..thanks? Thanks for the review!

Princess-Anime; lol, ok, I'm sending this one over asap, hope you like it, thanks for the review!

Pyrefly: Thanks for telling me that! Quick spoiler; it's a kiss!! Thanks for the review!

Mistress Joy; Thank for the thoughtful review!

CydCharisse: thanks for a scary review..

BebopsEdward24:thanks for your nice review! But hey, it was supposed to be a cliffhanger, not a completion!! Lol, thanks!

L-sama: umm..yes..that was a bit paradoxical, but I agree.. thanks for the review!

Nickie: thanks for your flattering review, but I never thought of waiting as torture, lol.

Milly the Smutz0r: MUAHAHAHAHAHA I can end chapter like that because I am sadistical..lol. But I don't think a bit of suspense counts as torture or sadistical behavior, really I don't. I agree with mmmm..blood and mmmm..Draco. Thanks for the review!

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

As Harry's head cleared from the shock of the mind-numbing impact, Draco's hands slid from Harry's shoulders, sweeping past his neck to cup his face, from the end of his jawbone to his ear, and gave him a soft, almost chaste, kiss on his lips.

Harry froze.

His mind's erratic crashing rendered him unable to react in a proper manner, and he felt Draco's canines slide softly across his bottom lip, and his mind was suddenly focused. The teeth were sharp, unnaturally sharp, and he could taste the metallic flavor of his blood.

He pushed Draco away from him with a vigorous heave, sending the other boy far enough away for what comfort there was to be found, after what Harry felt was a horrible violation.

Draco regained balance elegantly; making what would have been embarrassing fall quite graceful. He tipped his head to one side as if curious, gave an infuriatingly overconfident smirk, and raised himself up, to walk briskly toward the corner.

"Merry Christmas," Draco flung over his shoulder, still walking with a derisively casual manner.

Meanwhile, Harry quickly assembled a string of curses, accusations and insults to yell at Draco, but he was already gone, departed around the corner, around an elaborate pillar. Harry followed angrily but when he turned the corner to face a long corridor, Draco was not to be seen.

He turned back, defeated, and noticed where he had been standing only moments before, hung a string of rich mistletoe, and he was speechless.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

As Christmas bolted away in a boiling anger, Harry's fury piled up and up, and he resolved to emit his anger on someone. Namely a teenage blonde from Slytherin that had caused him to fall in a deadly rage to begin with.

Christmas Dinner was a feast of no bounds, there was everything there, from sugar quills to butter beer to a lively Christmas pudding that danced a spirited jig on the table.

A chorus of ghosts drifted by every now and then, and the leafy bearings of the Christmas tree was truly enchanting. Everything was warm and sprightly, and the Christmas cheer was one of such liberal proportions that even Harry, in his mire of seething vehemence couldn't help a smile or two.

Professor Dumbledore gave a heartwarming speech, noting not to 'brood in the dungeons brewing veritaserum' with a twinkle in his eye. He never glanced at Professor Snape when he said that, but everybody knew of whom he had been alluding to.

The Christmas Dinner ended quite a while later, as dinners have an obligation to do, and Harry briskly followed Draco the moment he stepped out the door to give him a good yell.

He slammed the door behind him and narrowed his eyes at the retreating shadow of Draco, who was meandering along the hall in front of him.

"Draco." He said, all too quietly. The lull before the storm.

The other boy turned with a slow arrogance, and regarded him for a steady moment before replying.

"Has the famous Potter deemed it fit to address me so casually then? Perhaps because he believes he saved me from a little blood loss?" he asked with an eyebrow raised in an intoxicating gesture of egotism. Harry decided to ignore this and plowed on.

"What was that, yesterday???" he yelled, at the top of his lungs, finally releasing all that pent-up anger, frustration, and revulsion.

"What exactly was what?" Draco threw back coolly, eyebrow still arched infuriatingly.

"You - you kissed me! You put your lips on mine and did that. Were you out of your mind???"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"How can you deny it? Right there, yesterday, under that string of mistletoe! After dinner!" He pointed to the mistletoe that was hung as decoratively as ever, the way it was yesterday.

"After dinner? I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that it must have been a Polyjuice potion or something. I wouldn't."

"Fine then. Prove it. Where were you last night after dinner, then? And don't expect me to think one of the first years did - that."

"Last night? I was - after dinner, right? I was," Draco began to loose his cool and his brow furrowed slightly and his eyes glazed over as he tried to concentrate. He shook his head violently after a moment, as Harry examined his confused countenance with an equal confusion and suspicion of his own.

Draco really didn't seem to know what he had been doing after dinner that night. Harry felt a chill. Perhaps someone had put a charm on him and had actually pretended to be Draco? The side of him that hated Draco kicked in and asked what if Draco did do it, and put a memory charm on himself to pretend he didn't? Why in the world would either of those predicaments actually occur anyway to begin with?

Draco shook his head wildly, as if to clear a ghost from his head, and answered vehemently, "It doesn't matter what I was doing, it is none of your business. I would never do something so utterly repulsive. And if you have no more wild accusations, I will escort myself away."

He did just that.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

Harry decided to drop the matter. After a few days, Draco had not appeared. It was as if the merest memory of him had been erased by the maze of the school. Every night was dark and stormy, the moon always shadowed by voluminous, gloomy clouds that brooded away their time with episodes of thunderstorms.

Harry took to writing lengthy letters to his friends and speaking to Hedwig, or simply staring out at the cascades of rain over the frosted-over windows. The days where dark and sullen, and an endless misery seemed to settle down upon the school.

The first years, usually full of bright chatter, faded away to mere ghosts of their former selves, taking to murmuring away in the corners with depressed expressions, or the muggle-borns sketching pictures of the weather.

Of Draco Malfoy, there was naught to be seen.

Days passed, and the weather improved, if only slightly, to a light drizzle and occasional sun, overcast only by drab clouds that drifted along the sky in a wayward manner.

For the first time in many days, Draco was at breakfast, and Harry surveyed him for a few moments as he stepped inside the room, and realised that there was definitely a change.

His hair. It did not look as if it had been washed, or styled, in fact, the opposite could be said. It was soft and looked like it must look naturally, no sleek hair plastered to his head, just long, fine, downy hair that steeped past his pallid neck to caress his shoulders.

As he sat down, he wondered how Draco managed to miss his meals. He wondered if he merely didn't eat, or something similar, and then cast away that foolish notion. Perhaps he stole food from the all-too-willing house- elves.

Seated, Harry began to chew his food slowly, with thoughtful deliberation, and he glanced at Draco for a while. He noticed the other boy was looking at him, and was curious enough to forget himself, until he caught himself staring.

Draco had seemed to come to a similar conclusion and lowered his head, blushing slightly, staring hard at his dish, as did Harry, but not before he saw Draco do it, and begin to formulate some wild conclusions with his now disordered mind, in which Draco was inextricably woven.

He hastily completed his meal, and hurried through the silent corridors, mind preoccupied. He knew that he had denied himself the only reasonable answer to his musings, as that single answer was completely inane within itself.

Were Peeves to come and drop a dung bomb, Harry would not have noticed. His preoccupation extended right until the point where he did not notice the pair in front of him until they where right there - in front of him. They had obviously not noticed either, being likewise occupied with other, more pressing matters.

Harry stopped less then a metre short of them, and his head flew upwards to survey the pair, mouths gliding, sliding, and bodies clinging as if for salvation in the other. Robes in a tangled disarray, and hair falling gently on the other's face.

Her arms crept around his neck, and his mouth fastened itself about her neck with a mixture of licking, sucking, and biting, none of which looked pleasant to Harry, the onlooker, in the least.

She moaned as he went about his business, eyes closed as he traced intricate patterns in her hair, and later again when he fastened his mouth on her smallest finger, and began to suck gently on it, teeth lightly grazing the sides.

Harry thought that it must obviously feel better than it looked, when he wondered why in hell he was watching a live performance of something that seemed to be verging on and leading to pornography.

The first year girl made an insistent, whining noise, and Harry saw that the boy had stopped, and was watching Harry intently, a predatory gaze. Harry's eyes widened, and he fled. Fled from what he had seen, and a feeling of growing illness in his stomach that portended a long, sick night.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

Draco Malfoy extracted himself from the tight embrace of the first year, and tilted his head, uncomprehendingly. Fixing his clothing lightly, and gathering her discarded raiment from the floor, he swiftly handed them too her as she stood, puzzled at his sudden change. A dawning awareness greeted her as he walked off, in the direction that Harry Potter had left, and hatred began to seep into her mind, like a slow poison.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

Harry emptied the contents of his last meal into the basin and splashed icy cold water on his face, before surveying his ashen reflection. He watched as the first stirrings of anger rose yet again in his countenance, and was amazed that he had not burst a vein.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

The first year, slumped against the wall, now with full comprehension, spat on the floor and vowed bittersweet revenge.

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

Draco walked into the door of the toilets, and watched as Harry caught a glimpse of him and turned around. A voice laughed, and it was his own. Not a particularly pleasant one, to be sure, either. Harry spun around, full-blown hostility on his face, to be read so easily, as a book would be. How quaint. Still not ready to face the music?

~~~~~~'~~, ~~~@

A/N: what do you think? Please, somebody give ideas on how to slowly get them together!!!