Sorry this is so short, but it took a great deal of willpower to not turn this into something r rated. I promise, the last chapter is longer. I have 4 exams next week : (

Harry led Draco to the picture in the hall. "Hey Dermot."

"Hey Harry, who's this?"

"I could ask you the same."

"This is Rico. That's?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, heard some interesting things about your father. So, you need a safe room for today?"

"Yeah. We were in the dungeons, but some, well, you could say hostile people came in on us. Harry said he knew a better place."

"This's it! Have a awesome time!"

Harry looked back as they were walking in the door, and thought he saw Rico and Dermot kiss, but he wasn't sure, and he wanted to be with Draco, so he kept walking.

Draco already had his hand on the first doorknob on the left. He opened it, and started to walk in, and Harry walked right into his back, when he stopped suddenly.

"Oh my gosh, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't realise, I'm so sorry-"

"Draco, if someone's in there, just close the damn door!"

Draco backed up, slammed the door, and knocked on the first left for at least a minute before walking in.

"So someone was in there then?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"You don't want to know."

"Dumbledore and Filch?"

Draco looked like he would pass out on the spot. "Eeww, gods above Harry, you made me picture that!"

"What, you aren't tolerant enough to accept Filch and Dumbledore being gay? Come on, you are, why can't they be."

"There's a difference between being tolerant, and wanting to picture that. Can you honestly say if we walked into the next room, and Dumbledore was porking Filch, you wouldn't mind watching?"

"I never thought I would hear the word pork out of your mouth."

"Fine, if Filch and Dumbledore were making sweet passionate love, would you really want to see it?"

"Draco, I somehow doubt Filch would be for sweet passionate. He has handcuffs in his office, I think he would be more of the rough and tumble kind."

"Harry." Draco groaned.

"Shit, you think they would handcuff each other to the four poster beds? It's possible, you know."

"If you don't stop now, I'll kill you, I swear."

"You know, now that I think about it, I can't see Dumbledore being submissive for too long. He would have to get back at Filch by-" Harry was cut off as Draco hit him in the head with a pillow.

"What the hell?"

"I warned you, now didn't I? Now, get up on the bed, so we can do what we came here to do."

They crawled onto the mammoth bed and striped to boxers. They mutually admired each other's beauty for awhile, until Draco pulled the fluffy blankets over them, and got out his book.

It was black leather, with gold edged pages, but the leather was cracked, and the pages were wrinkled. Harry wondered what it book it was that Draco found so interesting that he had read it so many times.

"Now, as best as I can tell, Rome is this guy, and Ben is his friend. Ben- good morrow cousin. Rome- is the day so young? Ben-but the new struck nine. Rome-aye me, sad hours seem long. Was that my father that went hence so fast? Ben- it was, what sadness lengthens your hours? Rome-not having that which having makes them short. Ben-in love? Rome-out. Ben-of love? Rome-out of her favour where I am in love. Ben-alas that love so gentle in his view, should be so tyrannous and rough in proof. Rome-alas that love, whose view is muffled still, should without eyes see pathway to his will! Where shall we-"

"Draco, do you have any idea what that means?"

"Do you have any idea what it means?"

"No, but that doesn't matter, you can explain it to me. If you understand it."

"Look, I just owled my father and asked him for a book that would make the person I care about all soppy and lovestruck. I didn't know he was going to send me a book that's barely written in English. Send me a book in French, I can translate it in my head while reading and tell you it in English, but this? I have no idea what it means."

"But it's so worn out…"

"It didn't occur to you my dad might have loved my mom, and read to her from this?"

"Did he?"

"I'm not sure. It's a possibility. It must have come from the manor, he wouldn't have bought it used like this. So some family member must have read it, and the fact that my dad sent it, well, all things are possible."

"You want to read me something else?"

"I don't have any more romantic books. And I'm not reading to you from Moste Potente Potions."

"Well, why don't you read me a comic book, I know you have some from Timothy."

"I have a better idea."

He rolled Harry off his side, onto his back, and started to massage him. Suddenly something cold spread over his bare back, and a wonderful smell wafted into his nostrils.

"What is that?"

"Oh, I think it's called sweet rain, or something."

"But what is it?"

"Massage oil."

Harry was about to say something, then Draco's nimble hands hit a knot in his back, and all that came out was a moan.

By now the liquid had warmed up significantly, and Harry wondered why all the comments the priest had given about heaven when the Dursley's took him to church never said anything about-ahhhhh-this. This was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt, Draco's deft hands on his back, sweet smelling liquid running in pools over his back, all the tense muscles loosening, which hadn't happened since maybe summer of fourth year, when he was at the Weasleys. It was amazing to feel this unstressed.