by Perr - we've only managed to write out 22 chapters so far. Now it's hitting 17, so we hope you're patient, because of a big time constraint! Give us time, yeah?, and until chapter 22, keep checking back everyday for updates. Thanks for your support! :D

Draco's POV

---powerful urges---
---see yourself---
---urges---
---entering---
---see yourself... powerful urges---

"I DO NOT HAVE ANY BLOODY URGES!"
Oh my goodness.
The bed is hot like a bed of coals, and I roll over from my side onto my back. I think I pulled a muscle with that waking jerk.
Three shadows loom over me as one eye reluctantly opens itself. The sun hasn't risen, and someone's wand is glowing.
I shoot up and scoot backwards, managing something that sounds like a big, "GYAHHH", and then I remember to breathe.
"It was getting interesting."
I do not hesitate to point all three of them one long, middle finger. "Go to hell."
The voice had come from that busybody Blaise, who is now moving backward with an amused smile on his face. Goyle gently flicks his wrist with a short breath of Nox, and it's dark again. Crabbe folds his arms.
"You've been dreaming every night, Drake," Goyle says, "and honestly, whatever you dream about, it's starting to get a little noisier each time."
For the first time in a long time, I'm ready to admit that I'm embarrassed. I quietly pray inside myself that they don't hear anything... Uncivilized.
"And he's here because...?" I trail off. Sometimes, I just hate looking at his face. If we have a smirk battle, I'd be having a hard time fighting.
"Because I think you're hiding something from us."
"I wonder what it is."
"We're your best friends, Draco," Blaise says, bringing each of his arms over each side of my dorm mates.
"Yeah. They, are my best friends," I reply curtly. I whip the blanket off my feet and get off the bed. "Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."
Goyle shrugs off Zabini and says, "Hey, don't get mad at us; it's all Crabbe's fault."
"Hey!"
"Look, I don't care whose fault it is, just don't bloody bother me by bringing in strangers to the circle." I feel annoyed. What do they need to know? The truce between Potter and I stays where it is. "Malfoys' business should stay our business, and you know well enough not to step over that border."
I can tell Blaise is a little pissed by my resilience. "Well, in that case, fine. But don't think you can hide anything from me, Draco, even if it's up in that head of yours." He moves away before I can throw him a death glare, then I'm left alone with my cronies.
"What an idiot," I say. I swear that Crabbe and Goyle pass a look to each other. "I'm going to get changed."
I can't possibly go back to sleep, or I'll just make more noises. More noises that might involve the word Potter.

The second meal of the day is almost over. The sun's heat has been dying towards the end of the week, which is a good thing. I don't know what to say about anything at all, because a lot's been happening, and it's giving me a headache. It's also given me a B- for the Potions test I took recently.
Potter's watching me, I know it. I can feel his gaze all over me, my hair, the apple of my healing cheek, the collar of my shirt, my hand poking at the food on my plate (yet again). I wonder when I'm ever going to tell him that I want to bend him over the table in front of everyone and just---
"Ay, you there." Someone pokes at my head. Pansy, again. "You're not listening."
I'm not obligated to. I can't answer her. I have to think of what to say to the Gryffindor. It feels strangely... relieving, that awkward conversation we had last night, and I'm not about to let a growing opportunity slip through my fingers.
Opportunity for what?
"Something on my mind," I reply her. Someone on my mind.
"Oh, please do share," she says, immediately interested.
"It's nothing, it's nothing."
I excuse myself from the table and head off to somewhere else. I give a final look to Potter.
He's disappeared.
Maybe it's still the hormones, but I have this urgent need to talk to him. Where do we go from here? That I've got his back if he's got mine. That we're neutral and anything but buddies. That I want to shag him senseless by the end of the day. Ok, scratch that last bit.
But I just can't find him. Everything: my thoughts, my mind, my dreams, they all spiral down to him and I need to say
GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HEAD
before it pops out of my neck. I don't know what Trelawny's Divinations lesson has done to me, but I know that something's changed. I'll still give the same scowl, make fun of the way he looks, and swear at his almost- constant stupidity, but something on the inside would've just changed.
And then I just suddenly get an urge to devise plans to bed Harry Potter.
Gods.
Help me.