Warnings: Slash, OOC, Bad English (For detailed warnings please refer to the first chapter. Do not flame me before reading it.)

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I don't have to worry about failing English. (To Ancient Galaxy: Okay, maybe I won't fail. But I need at least 80% in English to get into the universities I wanted to, and that's freaking me out. It's a miracle that I stay above 70%.) Anyway, that means no.

If anybody wishes to be my beta, please email me~^_*

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Chapter Two - The Second Day

Animus, vinculum

Our truest hearts

We are to affiliate everything we have

We are to unite our soul and power

From now on

We are of but one

Forever and ever

You are mine

"Draco, will you be mine?" Harry looked down at him, hands roaming over his naked body.

He looked up at Harry, whose marvelous green eyes burned through him. He felt that his whole body was so weak and vulnerable that he could dissolve into sand the next second.

"Yes, Harry. Please." He hissed through his teeth, panting. Harry's finger brushed across his nipple, his touch soft and light as feathers. He wanted to arch up to Harry's touch, Harry's finger, but found himself unable to move. He was mesmerized. His head swimming, arms and limps too heavy to be moved. But his senses were as clear as ever. He could feel every inch of Harry's finger on his bare skin, touching his very soul. He knew he was lying on a bed; he could feel the silky sheet underneath his over sensitive skin.

"Please, Harry. Make me yours." He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to move his eyes down to see Harry's toned muscle, the honey colored skin of his chest. But somehow he couldn't move his eyes away from Harry's. Those green eyes were drawing him in, drawing him in. He was drowning, and there was nothing he wanted more than drowning deeper and deeper and deeper.

"Please, Harry." He whispered.

Those green eyes sparkled captivatingly, the intensity in Harry's eyes made him wanted to cry. No one had ever looked at him like that, like he was the most important thing, or person, in the world. No one.

He felt Harry's hands slid down to the side of his waist, his thighs and then over. Under the pressure of Harry's hands, he found moving his legs extremely easy. He spread his legs and Harry settled himself in between them. Harry's hands moved to hold his hips, as he again drowned Draco into his emerald eyes.

"Draco, you are mine…"

Say that again, Harry, say that again.

"Draco, you are late."

What?

This is not what you said, this is not how you said it, and this is… not your voice.

Draco's eyes snapped open. Nope. No emerald eyes, only the beady eyes of Vincent Crabbe.

Draco's eyes fell closed again. He wanted to go back to that dream again. He heard his own voice saying,

"Go away, Vince. I'll meet you at breakfast."

Crabbe grunted and stomped out of the room.

Draco slowly sat up on his bed, his knees drawn to his chest and his face in his hands.

Oh, god. Did he just dreamt of himself begging to be fucked by Harry Potter?

And he enjoyed it. It felt so… different. Never in his dreams or fantasies had either of them showed any personal emotion. It would usually consist of plain sex. And he was on top.

He was a teenage boy, and teenage boys have hormones. He didn't think dreaming of Harry Potter had any significance. Dreams consist of Potter were just slightly better and more than the other ones, that's all. At least that's what he thought before yesterday. But now… Harry was special. He couldn't get rid of his eyes, or the way he looked at him…

Draco felt his chest burned just by thinking of Harry's eyes. Harry's eyes were fires; he felt himself burned every time and everywhere he looked at him. Harry's eyes were emeralds, shining different shades of green with his mood. He remembered them being a deep, deep forest green when they… made out. And Harry's eyes were whirlpools, sucking his soul out of his body and into his eyes. He couldn't get rid of the way Harry looked at him, either. Never in his life that he felt so cherished, loved.

But… That was all a dream, right?

Draco sighed, jumped out of bed, decided to put the dream and his weird feelings in the back of his head. But when he put on his shirt and looked at the mirror, all memories and emotions rushed back at him again. He tentatively placed a finger on the strawberry mark on the side of his neck and shivered. Great. Now it's sensitive.

He closed his eyes, couldn't help but feeling Harry's mouth, Harry's lips, Harry's teeth on his skin. He unconsciously moved above his skin, caressing the mark, then slid his finger down to his shoulder, underneath the silky shirt, following the path of Harry's mouth from his memory.

Realizing what he was doing, he dropped his hand to his side and tiredly placed his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror. Welcoming the cool sensation of the mirror against his burning skin, he sighed, forming a little fog on the mirror.

What should he do now? It's not even near winter; he couldn't very well put on a scarf. Pretending to have a cold? No, Malfoys never get sick. Even if they did, they would never show.

Fumbling for at least half an hour, he finally gave up and decided not to hide it at all. Well, it wasn't that unusual for Draco Malfoy to have a sex life, was it? He just wouldn't tell who it was.

There. He took a final glance at the mirror and hesitantly smiled to himself. He walked out if his room with his chin held up in the air.

~*~*~*~

Draco was not here yet. No, Malfoy was not here. With malice. Harry corrected himself the millionth time. He just happened to notice Malfoy was one of the Slytherin that were gone. And it was completely expected. Why would he be here? Everyone knew where half of the Slytherins gone to.

For the first time, Harry saw no twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes when he looked at the teacher's table. Even Dumbledore couldn't stop them from making their choice. Even him couldn't stop them from leaving Hogwarts and going to Voldemort.

And Malfoy, being the Prince of Slytherin, whose father the most active in the Death Eaters, why would he be here? Why wouldn't he go back to where he belonged?

So then why is he looking at the Slytherin table every minute and subconsciously looking for a flash of platinum hair?

Harry sighed, looking down at his plate, suddenly lost all of his appetite. Who was he kidding? He hoped Draco would be here.

Why? Because he thought any evil who got kissed by the hero of the wizarding world would turn good in one night? No, but he thought… He thought there was something between them. He thought, or rather, hoped it meant something to Draco.

It was almost an unspoken agreement, a secret shared only between them. Every time they got one bit closer, every time they have a chance of developing something supposedly not enemies, they would pull away; they would automatically build a wall of hostility, anger, and sarcasm between them.

And now… Harry was tired. He was tired of living up to other people's expectation. Why couldn't he live for himself, just for once?

Harry felt like he was one of those cancer patients in those muggle movies that Aunt Petunia loved to watch. If you were going to die tomorrow, what will you want to do most?

He wanted to break the wall between him and Draco.

~*~*~*~

The first lesson is Care for Magical Creatures, with Slytherins, as usual. But when Draco strolled into the field in front of Hagrid's hut fifteen minutes late, Harry thought his jaw dropped.

Hagrid glared at Draco, wanting to ask why Draco was late, but Draco completely ignored him and walked to the where the Slytherins sat, without even looking at Hagrid. Harry distantly heard Ron muttered something about 'stupid show off Slytherins', but Harry couldn't care less. Draco was here, at Hogwarts, in the same classroom as him. Draco didn't leave.

Harry tried to catch Draco's eyes, but the blonde wouldn't look at him. He sat down in between Pansy Parkinson and Vincent Crabbe, and in front of Harry, as Harry purposely sat behind the Slytherins. Suddenly, something on the side of Draco's neck caught Harry's eyes, and he couldn't move them away anymore.

It was a love bite. The reddish pink mark stood out very much on Draco's pale skin, and Draco had no intention of covering it whatsoever. That was the only prove of the actual existence of what happened last night. As Harry's eyes caressed the love bite, he could still feel Draco's skin on the tip of his tongue. Smooth, soft, sweet, and slightly salty because of the sweat.

Harry closed his eyes, willing his heartbeat to slow down. When he opened his eyes again, he forced them to focus on Hagrid, but a smell of vanilla distantly lingered at his nostril, too stubborn to go away.

Oh, god. He wanted him so much, to touch the red mark on his neck, to press his lips against the smooth skin, to bury his hand in that soft, silky platinum hair of his, to wrap his arms around the slim frame, to have his body pressed against his own perfectly…

Harry's eyes were focused on Hagrid and the unknown magical creature the whole lesson, but his brain had not decipher one word Hagrid was saying, his hands only imitating Ron's without knowing what he was doing. He swore to himself never to sit behind Draco ever again.

Why had he not known before? He wanted him for so long…

But of course, he already knew the answer. For such a long time, he had been living up the image of Harry Potter, of this nice, brave, innocent boy who will do anything for the wizarding world. This didn't mean that this wasn't him. He was still him. He was still Harry Potter. His hatred and wish to destroy Voldemort had not change. He wasn't pretending. That was part of him.

But that wasn't all of him. There was part of him that he had locked up in a place that even he didn't know about. It was a place in the back of his head, a place he didn't know that it exist, and here, hid all s forbidden feelings, emotions that weren't suppose to exist.

He was good at hiding himself. It was a habit that he got from living with the Dursleys. He was used to hide the parts of him that people didn't wish to see.

It was no different in Hogwarts. Of course, people were willing to know him, but there were also expectations of him. He wasn't just anybody. He was Harry Potter.

He was so used to hiding himself that he unintentionally hid the parts of him that was unwanted in a dark, dark place that no one, including himself, knows about.

But when those emotions, those feelings got too much to bear, like ocean hid behind a dam, any small leek could lead to the total destruction of the dam.

He remembered in his fifth year, when he knew Voldemort was back, it was the first leek. People looked at the ill-tempered, dangerous Harry and asked, "What happened to you, Harry?" Well, what had they expect? He hated Voldemort. Voldemort caused all the misfortune in his life. His life goal was to live longer than Voldemort without all of his friends dying under Voldemort's hands. Had they expect him to be all polite and nice, sitting around waiting for Voldemort to be destroyed, like what they expected him to do? He was only human. He had emotions, he could feel anger, hatred, all the negative emotions as well as positive ones like… love.

When Voldemort had declared war, the dam deep inside him had completely broke down. He had nothing to lose. He didn't care what people think, what they expected of him. He wanted to be himself, all of himself. He didn't care if people would accept that part of him. He was tired of hiding. That was when… he followed his heart instead of his brain.

~*~*~*~

"Draco?" Pansy Parkinson was in the Slytherin common room, facing one sulking Draco Malfoy dreaming off to distance.

"Yes?" Draco's eyes refocused on Pansy, his voice bored and monotone.

"Draco, we are leaving tomorrow. We have to." Her voice was soft, like a mother would talk to a stubborn child.

Draco suddenly knew what she was talking about. Oh, damn.

Before Draco could reply, Pansy spoke again.

"Draco, you are coming with us, right?" 'Us' meant her and Crabbe. The three of them were the only seventh year Slytherin that were still in Hogwarts. He knew Pansy and Vince only stayed today because of him. As for the reason he hadn't gone, well…

Draco wanted to reply to her, 'Of course, why wouldn't I be leaving?' But somehow, when the words came out of his mouth, it became,

"I guess so. I'll see tomorrow."

Pansy suddenly had a sorrowful expression on her face that was gone too fast for Draco to decipher. She smiled.

"All right. I need to go pack now. I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, she left the common room.

Draco sat staring at the wall for a while, then he too stood and walked to his room tiredly.

As he slumped down on his bed, he brain automatically replayed the last conversation with his father.

"Draco, you might have disappointed me in some areas, but I believe I have taught you well in others. I trusted you to make the right choice. I won't force you to do anything against your will, because that will only prove my failure in educating my child. Just remember one thing, Draco. If you chose otherwise, you are not a Malfoy anymore. You know that I will not hesitate to clear any obstacle on my path to achieve my goal."

Draco knew exactly what that meant. Since Voldemort declared war, unlike other Death Eaters, father had not sent one word to him as to command him to go home or leave Hogwarts. He "trusted him to make the right choice", as he put it. He wouldn't lower himself to drag him home. If Draco hadn't known enough to leave by himself, his father will disown him. And if father saw him on the battlefield facing against him, he would not hesitate to Avada Kedavra him, because he would not be his son anymore.

Draco thought that speech was totally unnecessary before. Why would he "choose otherwise"? He had always been clear as to which side he was on.

But again… he was still at Hogwarts. The choice… It had been really easy before, why is it now… Was he actually thinking about…?

"Argh…" Frustrated, Draco buried his face in his pillow, trying to suffocate himself so that he wouldn't need to think anymore.

~*~*~*~

Uh… that's all for chapter two… It's still too short for my liking. I like to read nice, long chapters so I kinda hoped I could write one like those, too. But OMG, writing about character's thoughts is so hard!!! It looks confusing even as I read it myself. It makes absolutely no sense. I actually finished writing this last, last Saturday, and I spent an entire week *trying* to make it better, and then I found a stupid mistake so I have to delete the chapter and spent another week rewriting a couple paragraphs (that's why last week it was supposed to be "updated" but nothing new appeared).

And again, I was not able to follow my story outline and write what I wanted to write. I kept thinking it would go better if I put it in the next chapter… That's what happened in chapter one, too. -_-" So I hope if there is anything didn't make sense it would be cleared in the next chap. Geeze, this chapter is so pointless. I was struggling whether to post it or not. But… here it is. Now I don't even wanna look at it. Do not expect the next chapter too soon.

To everyone who reviewed, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much. I know there isn't much in this chapter, but… it's needed. Although it looks pretty pointless…

Thank you so much for reviewing!!!^^