A/N: Wow, the response for the first chapter was incredible, and it's really encouraged me to continue with this story. Thanks all of you!!

*****

BLOODLUST

Chapter 2

Harry watched Snape run in a kind of helpless neutrality, his body and mind too shocked and frightened to be coherent. When the sound of the man running finally faded, and the echoes were left to the history of Hogwarts, he sank down onto the floor, blindly leaning against the wall.

Had Snape really tried to kill him?

Harry knew that the Potions Master hated him, but he had always assumed that hatred had stemmed from a dislike of his father, and so was nothing more than a very strong bias. But Snape had just appeared to prove that completely wrong. He had attacked him, with wild eyes and flailing limbs, attacked him, attacked to kill.

Harry shuddered as he remembered Snape's face, twisted and angry, red eyed. He had seemed … Harry did not like to believe in religion, but he had seemed possessed. He had never seen Snape like that. Nor, he was sure, had any of the other students.

Ah, but there was that time in the Shrieking Shack …

Harry pushed the thought down sharply. Snape had just been incredibly angry then, surely. Harry did not remember the same searing terror he had felt a few minutes ago, and he did not remember the redness of Snape's eyes. He was still afraid now, afraid to move in case Snape changed his mind and returned, afraid that he had not gone at all, but was waiting for Harry to turn his back.

Then he shook himself and looked down at the Marauder's Map. There was no one near him. Snape was still in a corner of his room, presumably having fallen asleep before he had reached his bed. Or was he really asleep?

Harry remembered the suddenness with which the Professor had been jerked out of his madness, the haunted, self-loathing expression in his eyes when he looked at Harry, the utter shame with which he had asked quietly for forgiveness. Surely he would not be able to sleep.

The horror of Snape's realisation certainly fitted with the idea that he had been possessed. And Snape … or a demon … had seen through the Cloak, which he had never been able to do before. It was very strange, and very frightening.

Suddenly he remembered Draco, and gasped, looking at his watch. It was nearly eleven, half an hour after they were supposed to have met. He looked down the corridor, at the stillness of the dark, the total silence. For an age he waited, hoping that his love, or lust, for Draco would persuade him to go on and brave the emptiness of Hogwarts. It didn't.

Harry sighed. There was no way he could go on now – even if he did reach Draco in safety, he wouldn't be able to give his lover any satisfaction. He passed a hand across his brow. Fear had exhausted him, and as he lowered his hand he noticed it was still shaking. No, he told himself. Go back and explain in the morning. Perhaps it'll do Draco good to be unsatisfied occasionally.

He smiled, a little bitterly, as he flitted on silent feet back towards the common room. This was the story of their relationship – neither of them was sure how long the feelings would last, and the idea that one would lose his affections for the other was a prospect that scared them both. So they played simple little games, not voicing the fears openly but ensuring that they would want to go on. Draco might think Harry didn't care about him for a night, but he would end up loving Harry even more, and a few sly winks to Draco in the morning would soon put the whole thing right.

The common room was deserted; it gave no sign that it had heard the violence that had occurred a short way from it. Not even Crookshanks, asleep by the glowing fire, had stirred. Harry paused, and considered. He had intended to go to bed – his muscles ached with weariness – but his mind was not in a state that would easily convert to slumber. He would not sleep tonight.

Grimly, Harry collapsed into an armchair near the fire, and let his head tip backwards.

'I was wondering where you'd got to.' The voice came from the shadows under the stairway to the dormitories.

Harry's mind jumped, but his body simply did not want the effort of moving, and so he gave a rather pleasing impression of not being startled in the least. 'Who's there?'

The person spoke again: 'Harry,' and suddenly Harry recognised the voice.

'Draco!' he exclaimed. 'How did you get in?'

'I sneaked in when Granger and that Weasley of hers left for their little hidey-hole. Where have you been?'

'I -' Harry began lamely. He wanted to tell Draco what had happened, to confide his fears and nervousness to him. But somehow it didn't feel right. The event seemed strangely personal, almost as if it had been meant for him and him alone. He did not want to share it yet, for although he had wanted to run from Snape, he had felt an inappropriate compassion for him when he was so ashamed. He didn't understand it, and Draco definitely wouldn't. So, for now, he was keeping the whole thing to himself. 'I ran into Mrs Norris,' he lied eventually.

Draco emerged from his hiding place and came to stand in front of Harry, hands on his hips. Then he leaned forward, his face inches from Harry's own, their legs pressing firmly together. 'Harry, Harry,' he breathed slowly. 'What are we going to do with you?'

Harry smiled wryly, the tension suddenly gone. 'I'll let you decide, darling.'

Draco's lips twitched in amusement. Then he leaned down quickly and kissed Harry hard on the mouth.

As they both relaxed into the kiss, Harry pulled Draco down, so he was lying on top of Harry, between his legs. Harry moaned softly as they pushed towards each other. 'Draco …'

'Harry,' Draco replied in an infuriatingly calm voice, despite the violence of his movements.

Harry moaned again. 'You smug … bastard.'

His lover smiled. 'You're the bastard, Harry, you swine. You stood me up, remember?'

'Not – my – fault,' Harry said through clenched teeth, trying desperately not to let his sex drive into his speech.

Draco gave a low, seductive laugh, and Harry gave up, pulled his lover closer to him and proceeded to seduce him as best he could. But Draco was not immune to arousal either, and soon both were tearing at each other's clothes, no longer seeing the reason why the material was there.

Draco was lowering himself down between Harry's legs, when Crookshanks mewed. Draco jumped up in fright, half naked. 'What the fuck was that?'

'Hermione's cat,' Harry told him in an irritated voice. Bloody creature. Robbing him of Draco's attention … why, the animal should be in Azkaban. 'Draco, come here …'

'Hang on. Can that creature talk to Gra – Hermione?'

Harry shrugged. 'No idea. Don't think so … please, Draco, come here … pretty please?'

Draco raised a hand at him slowly for silence, not taking his eyes off Crookshanks, then leapt onto the cat with strangely feline agility, clamping a hand over its mouth and grasping it round the middle with the other hand. Then he carried it over to the door to the stairs, opened the door and let Crookshanks run through it before closing it again and dusting off his hands.

He was bare-chested throughout this whole enterprise, and Harry could not take his eyes off the blonde-headed body as he walked about the common room. He prayed that Draco intended to stay.

'Okay, let's get down to some serious business, Harry.' Draco returned to the armchair and straddled Harry's thighs, wrapping his arms around his neck. 'Want me?'

Harry had learned by now to recognise the beginnings of one of their games, and so he cocked his head, as if in consideration. 'Maybe,' he said finally. 'I'm not too sure.'

'I think you do,' Draco told him softly. He slid a hand down Harry's chest, letting him tremble, but paused at his jeans. 'Am I right?'

'Hmmm.'

The hand retreated up to Harry's chest, then travelled back down, firmer this time, and going a little way over Harry's jeans. Harry watched him, hoping his face was unreadable.

'Am I right?'

'Quite possibly, Draco,' Harry replied calmly. Then he let his voice slur seductively. 'It's getting more likely, though …'

Again Draco's hand moved up, then down, and this time rubbed over Harry's groin. 'Am I right?' He pushed harder into Harry's crotch.

A sudden intake of breath. Harry threw his head back, and let out a long sigh. 'God, yes.'

Draco had won. He usually won, and Harry had been especially expecting it tonight, when he was too tired to put up much resistance. 'Just fuck me Draco, would you, dear?'

Draco smiled in satisfaction, and then proceeded to take off his and Harry's clothes and do exactly as Harry had asked.

As they curled up naked together, a question crossed Harry's mind immediately answered by his sleepily sated body. Draco was the only one who could make him both sane in feelings, and insane with desire? Sane and insane.

Definitely.

And Snape … well, he would have to see about him tomorrow. Tomorrow.

*****

A/N: Well, what do you think? A certain person asked me for more Harry/ Draco, so I thought I'd provide it. Please review! And thanks again to those of you who have reviewed so far.