Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing. :sigh: JKR is the genius.

Author Notes: This is a fic inspired by a song of the same name as the title, by the band None More Black. Lyrics were used for my site's current layout and it just snowballed from there, each part's title is a lyrical snippet. Technically, this fic is complete, I'm just ironing out some kinks in the last chapter before the last three run through the beta-mill. I would also like to thank my lovely beta, Dawn Dawn S here at for keeping my grammar and punctuation in line.

Warnings: This rated a hard R for sexual situations and mild consent issues.

I. In Innuendos

Harry Potter was done. He was done with the insults. He was done with the sneers. He was done wasting time. He had had enough. He still knew the way to the Slytherin dungeons. In fact, you'd think he was a Slytherin himself with the ease he navigated the corridors.

Harry had developed a habit of remembering everything.

He stood before the entrance and without thinking just banged on it and he continued to do so until the entrance slowly swung open. Draco Malfoy stood smirking, silver eyes glittering maliciously.

"Potter. How nice of you to visit. Though I would have thought house calls were beneath you." Draco's eyes glinted. "You're spending too much time with that Weasel."

"Shut up, Malfoy. We need to talk," Harry started.

"We need to talk?" Draco laughed coldly. "Are you planning on asking me out?"

Harry fought for his composure. "What are you going on about? We need to talk about this!" Harry's hand twitched back and forth between himself and the blonde boy.

"Potter, you need to drop the Weasel; his ill-mannered idiocy has apparently rubbed off on you. At least that mudblood has half a brain-"

"That is IT!" Harry grabbed Draco by his expensive robes, dragged him through the entrance, the door closing shut behind him and roughly shoved him against the far corner. "It's always been a game to you Malfoy, this little personal war of ours. Aren't you TIRED of it?! It's been six years, SIX! We don't need to make it seven! This has got to stop! And don't you dare say that word around me again."

"What word is that? Weasel? Or is it idiocy?" Draco's eyes were bright, even in the darkness of the dungeon corridor. "Or maybe it's mudblood. There's no shame in truth, Potter."

Draco reached up and grabbed Harry by the wrist in a move to disengage himself. Harry's robes had slid down his arm in his rough treatment and Draco's hand was cold against the pulse of his wrist. They had never touched skin to skin before, at least not that Harry had noticed.

He felt an odd charge go through him; he was still angry. Draco was looking at him strangely; he seemed to be looking at his...mouth? Something clicked in the back of Harry's mind. So that's how it's going to be. Harry felt his anger and irritation take over.

Before he could stop himself he leaned in towards the unsuspecting Slytherin and kissed him roughly. He felt him tense and just as he thought he would, relax. Draco's grip tightened on his wrist. Just when he felt Draco's mouth part, Harry took his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down hard, drawing blood. Harry released Draco and stepped back.

Draco looked stunned for a moment so brief, Harry was sure he'd imagined it. The familiar sneer returned. Draco deliberately licked the blood from his lip. "Do you still want me to stop Potter?" He had emphasized the word "want."

"What was it that you said again?" Harry turned to go. "There's no shame in truth."

This time it was Draco who pulled Harry aside.

Harry was on his way to the quidditch locker rooms to pick up his charms textbook that he had left behind during the last practice. Unfortunately, the Slytherins were just at that moment heading to the locker rooms themselves, their practice over.

Heavy clouds hung in the sky; it smelled like rain.

"Don't think you're going to get the last word after that little display yesterday." Draco whispered as soon as no one was within earshot.

"Technically, Malfoy, I didn't. They were your words, not mine."

"Don't try to be clever!" Draco hissed, shoving Harry against the wall. He paused and smiled slowly. "Isn't this an interesting turn of events."

Not a question, a statement. Harry started to get a little nervous. He could feel the heat radiating from Draco, who was flushed and wind-burned from his quidditch exertions. His blonde hair, however, remained infuriatingly perfect.

Draco leaned in, nose inches away from Harry, eyes blazing. "I don't like it when my own words are used against me, Potter."

Harry had never noticed how much emotion Draco's eyes alone could produce. Right now, they were like boiling silver. He felt his heart rate pick up. So did Draco; he laughed and pressed his palm harder against Harry's chest.

Draco whispered in Harry's ear, "Especially if the meaning isn't fully understood."

Draco smelled like earth and sweat and, something sweet Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. He didn't like how close his enemy was to him, if he turned his head just a fraction, his lips would brush his neck. Draco's tongue snaked out and licked his ear. Harry lost it, he started to struggle.

"Potter, don't make me say it again." Draco eyes were now dark and unreadable, he stared unflinchingly at Harry, who flushed from both anger and embarrassment.

"Malfoy, get off of me! Yesterday was-"

Draco cut Harry off by crushing his wind burned lips against his protest. Draco kissed him hard and Harry continued to struggle. Draco took his tongue and ran it across Harry's bottom lip, after a few light strokes Harry stopped moving. Draco knew exactly what he was doing; he worked his mouth expertly over Harry's. After a minute, he had Harry kissing him back. He smirked mentally, then he bit down hard on Harry's bottom lip. Harry didn't make a sound, but his breath came out in a rush. Draco took Harry's injured lip between his and sucked once, then pulled back.

Draco, who had kept his eyes open the entire time, watched Harry's open slowly revealing angry, green orbs. However, the hard pressure against his thigh spoke volumes; he smirked openly now. In a quick, fluid motion Draco reached down took Harry in his hand and squeezed once, hard, watching green eyes widen in shock.

The Slytherin stepped back and propped himself up elegantly with his broom. "Don't start what you can't finish, Potter. And don't use my words against me unless you know exactly what they mean."

Harry, confused, watched Draco disappear into the locker rooms just as the first drops of rain started to fall, cold and heavy.

His anger returned. He'd had the upper hand yesterday, he was sure of it. Harry shifted uncomfortably, his hand brushed his erection and he winced, then flushed. He rearranged his robes and headed back to the castle.

"Don't make me say it again." Draco's words rang in his ears.

There's no shame...

Later that night, during dinner, as the plates cleaned themselves of the main course and the desserts appeared, Harry figured out what that third smell was. He brought the spoon to his mouth and the coldness stung his lip. He forgot to heal it. Harry licked the spoon clean.

"Vanilla, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Don't you always go for the coffee flavored varieties?"

"Vanilla's a little plain isn't it?" Ron added, mouth full of treacle fudge.

Harry just shrugged.

"Draco, what are you doing?"

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing, I'm eating. Or I would be if I wasn't just interrupted."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "But you always get vanilla, with almonds. Is that...is that coffee? AND caramel?"

Draco felt the ice cream melt on his tongue and swallowed. He didn't look at Pansy.