by Perr, to all the fans of this piece, with love :D

Draco's POV

Ron the giraffe says defiantly, "I wouldn't do that if I were you!"
I nibble at my itchy paw and catch a fellow chinchilla, coat brown and soft-looking, staring at me.
"Eep! Harry, get away!"
"Oh, be quiet, you Weasel giraffe," I frown. My floppy ears twitch and I scurry towards my furry arch-rival. Some kind of mating instinct overtakes me.
"Draco, you're mad," a pigeon coos. It's their smart aleck pal, Granger.

Oh my gods, what kind of dream was that?
I slept on the couch because I couldn't bear to think of sleeping in my bed anymore. My neck aches, and I stretch. It's too early for preparation, too early for anything. I can't believe I was a chinchilla that wanted to hump another. I can't believe I'm finding out that I don't fancy girls, and I can't believe that I'm lusting after him.
I can't believe I can't help myself.
This time, I'm going to start convincing myself that it's the hormones raging through my blood. Blood.
Blood rushes everywhere, particularly to my head, both heads. I almost laugh, and get up with one arm. My cast is really getting in the way of things; it should be all right to take it off today. I should be heading over to have it removed later. In the meantime, I don't know what I should do. I look around. There's some parchment on a table nearby.



This really sucks.
Pomfrey's being such a nag. But I'm feeling much, much better, and with Goyle and Crabbe by my side, I can relax.
My shirt sleeves are rolled up, and I rub my wrist. What a relief. I wouldn't know what I'd do without magic.
"I never thought I'd get it off," I sigh. "I don't think I would have..." Speech dies down as I notice Harry Potter at the corner of my eye, who's obviously trying to not look obvious by engaging in useless conversation with his friends.
Goyle notices too, from my distracted eyes. "Want me to deal with him?"
"No," I reply, "If there's anything to do with him, I'll deal with it myself."
Yeah, sure. I'd probably make him drop to his knees. Run my hands through his hair. Get naked. Make him---
"Oi!" A stubby finger jabs my side.
"Ow." I narrow my eyes at Crabbe. He looks at me awkwardly.
"It doesn't work with your eyes."
Oh yes it does. Undressing does wonders. "I didn't say now."
He shrinks. "Just saying."
I pause. "But maybe now isn't a bad idea."
I run fingers through my hair like I always do sling my cloak over my shoulder, and shove one hand into my pocket.

Granger rolls her eyes when I approach, as usual. Weasely, he whispers something in his friend's ear. I make a gesture, signaling both of my friends to keep his friends back. "Hey!" she struggles. "Let go!"
"What're you doing?" Potter says, looking at his friends with concern. "If you're looking for a fight, I'll give it to you, just don't involve them."
"You tell 'im Harry!"
"Shut up Ron! Don't waste your breath on these large brainless tyrants."
I step up to him, this disgrace that I've... I won't admit anything. It's the hormones. His lips are pursed tightly, somewhat unimpressed.
There's the parchment I wrote on that's in my pocket, at my fingertips, and I take it. I lean into him –gods, I can almost taste him- and breathe into his ear, "Bring it on, then."
From my pants, my hand slithers inside of his cloak and I slip it deep within his own front pocket. He inhales sharply. There's all sorts of heat going on in there... I just want to leave myself there a little longer, but instead, I take my hand and give two pats, making sure it's safe, smile, and walk away.
"C'mon, let's go."
"That's all?" Goyle says, displeased. He lets go of Mudblood. "I thought you were going to deck him one right in the face!"
I ignore him. I probably scared him half to death, if anything at all. Two seconds of searching jade eyes, my heel spins and I decide to get going for class, feeling way too sexy for anything else.

I probably scared myself half to death as well.