A/N: Well, I have gotten inspiration all of a sudden, and I don't know how, so I will be continuing the story now. :) Enjoy!
Thanks to athena-31516 for your kind reviews. I write for you now ... hehehe.
Thanks also to Pepsi for getting me back in the mood. :)
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Chapter 7 -- Lucious Lucius
After cleaning the soaking sheets on his bed, the older Malfoy decided to make himself a cup of tea, to calm his senses. Conjuring the cup, he sat on an emerald green couch in his chambers, and placed his tea on a table next to the couch. Bringing his hand up to his neck, he massaged it slowly.
"Lucius, what are you doing?" he asked himself softly. "You keep dreaming about that ... that girl! She doesn't deserve the pureness that is you."
Still rubbing his neck slowly, he closed his eyes and sighed. There was another matter weighing heavily on his mind. His son, Draco.
That boy was bound to get himself in trouble, especially if he was thinking about Harry Potter the way that Lucius thought he was. If his son turned out to be in love with Potter -- the thought was too disgusting for Lucius to finish, and he shook his head violently to try and remove it from his mind.
Of course, wasn't he thinking the same awful thoughts about Miss Granger? With her beautiful long hair, and her deep brown eyes ...
Lucius let his hand run down his chest before he stopped himself. "No, Lucius, not again," he said forcefully. He stood and looked around the room for his robes. Seeing the dark black cloth laying on the floor next to his bed, he stooped and picked it up, brushing his blond hair out of his face as he straightened. Sighing deeply, he pulled his cloak over his shoulders, and wrapped himself tightly, before deciding to take a walk. He needed to clear his head.
******
When Hermione got back to her room, she let out a breath that she realized she had been holding ever since her encounter with Harry. She couldn't believe that he had been up. What if he had noticed her ... well, she didn't want to think about that.
As she climbed into her four poster bed, and pulled the curtains around it, she couldn't stop thinking about her dream. He had felt so real to her. Every movement; how could she have possibly dreamed all that by herself? She had never been with anyone before... how could it have possibly been so realistic?
The warmth that had eminated from his body. How he moaned her name into her ear when he came. It had all been so...
Hermione shook her head softly. This was no way to help her get to sleep.
Closing her eyes, she tried to put thoughts of the elegant older Malfoy out of her head. However, after just a few moments, she heard a muffled thump and opened her eyes to see a shadow coming towards her bed curtains. Sitting up quickly, she wrapped the blankets closer around her, as a white hand reached for the curtain and pulled it back.
******
Harry couldn't go back to the Common Room, not after what he had witnessed in the Hospital Wing.
With a sigh, and the thought of the beautifully chiseled body of Draco Malfoy, Harry began to walk towards the Prefect's Bathroom. Thanks to some connections he had, he was able to get into the Bathroom, although the password was changed every year.
Reaching the bathroom, he walked in, and with a smile remembered his first time in this bathroom. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been in full swing, and he had taken a bubble bath in that Olympic-pool sized bathtub. Remembering the way the hot water and bubbles had caressed his body, and feeling still more than a little aroused by his encounter with Draco, he filled the bathtub with warm water. Turning the bubble faucet, a rush of foamy bubbles, smelling of vanilla, filled the water.
Stripping down slowly, Harry slipped into the water, and sighed with satisfaction. Closing his eyes, he moved his hand over his chest under the water. The water heightened his sense of touch, and he gave another sigh, and a smile of satisfaction came over his face.
"What the hell have you and Draco been doing?"
Harry jolted into a sitting position at the voice. It was the same voice that had yelled at Draco for almost kissing Harry. This time, though, Harry recognized the voice as more than just that.
Turning slowly to face the person who had spoken, Harry swallowed, and replied, "Nothing, Professor Snape," and seeing the look on Snape's face, he added, "really."
Snape's face was a mixture of jealousy, rage, and... Harry couldn't believe it, but it was there. Desire.
Thanks to athena-31516 for your kind reviews. I write for you now ... hehehe.
Thanks also to Pepsi for getting me back in the mood. :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 7 -- Lucious Lucius
After cleaning the soaking sheets on his bed, the older Malfoy decided to make himself a cup of tea, to calm his senses. Conjuring the cup, he sat on an emerald green couch in his chambers, and placed his tea on a table next to the couch. Bringing his hand up to his neck, he massaged it slowly.
"Lucius, what are you doing?" he asked himself softly. "You keep dreaming about that ... that girl! She doesn't deserve the pureness that is you."
Still rubbing his neck slowly, he closed his eyes and sighed. There was another matter weighing heavily on his mind. His son, Draco.
That boy was bound to get himself in trouble, especially if he was thinking about Harry Potter the way that Lucius thought he was. If his son turned out to be in love with Potter -- the thought was too disgusting for Lucius to finish, and he shook his head violently to try and remove it from his mind.
Of course, wasn't he thinking the same awful thoughts about Miss Granger? With her beautiful long hair, and her deep brown eyes ...
Lucius let his hand run down his chest before he stopped himself. "No, Lucius, not again," he said forcefully. He stood and looked around the room for his robes. Seeing the dark black cloth laying on the floor next to his bed, he stooped and picked it up, brushing his blond hair out of his face as he straightened. Sighing deeply, he pulled his cloak over his shoulders, and wrapped himself tightly, before deciding to take a walk. He needed to clear his head.
******
When Hermione got back to her room, she let out a breath that she realized she had been holding ever since her encounter with Harry. She couldn't believe that he had been up. What if he had noticed her ... well, she didn't want to think about that.
As she climbed into her four poster bed, and pulled the curtains around it, she couldn't stop thinking about her dream. He had felt so real to her. Every movement; how could she have possibly dreamed all that by herself? She had never been with anyone before... how could it have possibly been so realistic?
The warmth that had eminated from his body. How he moaned her name into her ear when he came. It had all been so...
Hermione shook her head softly. This was no way to help her get to sleep.
Closing her eyes, she tried to put thoughts of the elegant older Malfoy out of her head. However, after just a few moments, she heard a muffled thump and opened her eyes to see a shadow coming towards her bed curtains. Sitting up quickly, she wrapped the blankets closer around her, as a white hand reached for the curtain and pulled it back.
******
Harry couldn't go back to the Common Room, not after what he had witnessed in the Hospital Wing.
With a sigh, and the thought of the beautifully chiseled body of Draco Malfoy, Harry began to walk towards the Prefect's Bathroom. Thanks to some connections he had, he was able to get into the Bathroom, although the password was changed every year.
Reaching the bathroom, he walked in, and with a smile remembered his first time in this bathroom. The Tri-Wizard Tournament had been in full swing, and he had taken a bubble bath in that Olympic-pool sized bathtub. Remembering the way the hot water and bubbles had caressed his body, and feeling still more than a little aroused by his encounter with Draco, he filled the bathtub with warm water. Turning the bubble faucet, a rush of foamy bubbles, smelling of vanilla, filled the water.
Stripping down slowly, Harry slipped into the water, and sighed with satisfaction. Closing his eyes, he moved his hand over his chest under the water. The water heightened his sense of touch, and he gave another sigh, and a smile of satisfaction came over his face.
"What the hell have you and Draco been doing?"
Harry jolted into a sitting position at the voice. It was the same voice that had yelled at Draco for almost kissing Harry. This time, though, Harry recognized the voice as more than just that.
Turning slowly to face the person who had spoken, Harry swallowed, and replied, "Nothing, Professor Snape," and seeing the look on Snape's face, he added, "really."
Snape's face was a mixture of jealousy, rage, and... Harry couldn't believe it, but it was there. Desire.