A/N: Hey, everyone! Miss me? Yeah, right. I told you I'd get chapter eight posted as soon as I could, and here it is! I'm sorry about the delay, though. What with being put in "read only" mode, and Thanksgiving... but, hey, I tried. Okay, I know I told you Draco and Harry would have sex, but... ha! Just kidding! Of course there's sex in this chapter! How could there not be with a quote like this (see below)?

0000

Chapter Eight

"Run away, make hate, and get laid

You tie me up

I've had enough to medicate"

"Medicate," Breaking Benjamin

Harry was late again. It had seemed like Seamus was never going to go to sleep;the hyperactive Irishmanhad to ask him about his date with Lavender, and when he was going to break up with her. As far as Harry was concerned, he'd never even asked her out in the first place. Harry shuddered and rubbed his arms, thankful to be out of the clothes Lavender had bought for him. He hoped her father considered an unbelievable amount of money spent on an outrageous amount of clothes an emergency. Then again, what with Lavender seeming to have something new on every day... well, the Browns obviously had plenty of money to spare. But did they have to flaunt it so much? The Malfoys didn't. Well, okay, they did, but only because they knew it drove people off the deep end. They showed off their fortune because they knew people didn't want them to. Then again, Malfoy didn't really seem to reek wealth like his parents did. Sure, he liked his designer clothes, and his other brand new, state-of-the-art "essentials," but other than that, he kept things quiet. And, of course, he made fun of people like Ron, but that was only because he didn't like Ron. It didn't have anything to do with money, or Malfoy would have made fun of Harry, too; he had the vault at Gringott's but nobody really knew about it, and his clothes weren't exactly new. And they didn't fit his form like Malfoy's clothes did.

Malfoy. Malfoy was going to be rather annoyed about his being late. And for some reason, Harry found he enjoyed it when Malfoy expressed his irritation. It made him feel like he was wanted for something other than saving the world. Like someone really wanted him for him; for who he was. Not just what he could do. Of course that was absurd; it was all part of the deal. Harry expected Malfoy to be there whenever he needed him, so why shouldn't Malfoy expect the same in return?

Reaching the entrance to their designated meeting place, Harry pulled down on the semi-rusty ax and waited for the stones to rearrange themselves. Malfoy was probably on the other side, waiting for Harry to walk in so they could get it over with. And for some reason, Harry didn't want to "get it over with." At least part of him didn't. Dean had had a "relationship" similar to his and Malfoy's a couple of months back, and Hermione had lectured him for at least an hour when she'd found out. She'd said something about not being able to truly respect yourself if you were giving yourself away to someone who didn't really know you. But that was ridiculous. She was a girl, and girls always overanalyzed things. Right?

The stones finally revealed the entrance, and Harry walked in slowly, waiting for his eyes to get used to the light. Sure enough, Malfoy was leaning against the wall to Harry's right. He didn't look particularly annoyed or impatient, but as soon as the last stone in the wall fell back into place behind Harry, he began to take off his clothes.

Harry did the same, starting with his shirt and making his way down. "So, I still owe you..."

"Yes, you do." Apparently all that Malfoy had had on was his school robes. And Harry suddenly wished he'd thought of doing the same because his jeans felt a little tighter than they had been just seconds before. Malfoy dropped his robes on the floor and walked over to Harry, who had just managed to strip off his clothing as well. Malfoy grabbed Harry by the shoulders and slammed him up against the wall. He looked down into Harry's eyes intently for a few seconds. "You owe be big, Potter," he whispered before he leaned over and kissed him gently, "and you'll pay up tonight."

Harry shivered in excitement and apprehension. It was going to be a long night. Not that he was complaining. He started to sink to his knees, ready to suck Malfoy off, but Malfoy just pressed him even harder against the wall. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

Harry blinked. "I thought you said I owed you."

"You do."

"So?"

"So you do exactly what I say."

"And what do you say?"

"I say shut up and let me fuck you." Malfoy kissed Harry again, much more roughly this time, then began kissing his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, slowly making his way down to his abdomen. Harry sucked in air and attempted to dig his nails into the wall behind him. "Fuck," he gasped when Malfoy's tongue circled the rim of Harry's cock.

"Not yet," Malfoy murmured, moving his hands slowly up to Harry's hips. And then he pulled Harry down to the floor fast, catching Harry off guard so he slammed hard against the floor on his knees. "Soon, though."

Harry reached out to touch Malfoy, but Malfoy pulled back, slapping Harry's hands away. "I said you do what I say. Did I tell you to touch me?" he asked sharply, grabbing Harry's hands tightly. "It's," Malfoy pushed Harry back so he was lying on the floor, "my," Malfoy moved so he was straddling Harry, "time." He leaned over and reached out so he was holding Harry's hands up against the wall, their faces inches away from each other. Malfoy moved to close the space between them in order to kiss Harry again, then he paused, looking into Harry's eyes as if studying something. Then he drew back, his hands still holding Harry's in check. "Contacts? You got contacts?" Malfoy sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "You're a wizard, for Merlin's sake." He maneuvered his hands so he was pinning Harry's against the wall with one, and reached over to his robes with the other. "Honestly, Potter, you can be soutterly stupid sometimes that I find it miraculous that you've managed to stay alive so long." He pulled his wand out of one of the pockets of his robes. "Accio contacts." The contacts more or less popped onto the floor next to Malfoy. "Occulus Recarecto." Harry could suddenly see. That is, as well as he could in the rather dark room. "At least you got rid of those hideous glasses."

"It was Lavender. I happen to like my glasses."

"Of course you do," Malfoy muttered in a "what is one to do with someone like this?" way, then tossed his wand back onto his robes. "And now, back to business." He leaned over and kissed Harry's neck, sucking at the skin, massaging one of Harry's wrists with his thumb. "I assume you realize I do not want you doing anything but allowing yourself to be fucked?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Good, because I'm going to need my hands free for this." Malfoy let go of Harry's hands and sat back on his heels before spreading Harry's legs apart.

"How am I going to make it up to you..."

"I said you weren't to do anything unless I told you to do it, and that includes talking. Understand?"

Harry nodded again. Malfoy nodded with him, then grabbed Harry's wrists. "Stand up," he commanded, rising to his feet. Harry raised an eyebrow in question, wondering why he'd have to have two rather bruised knees the next morning if they weren't going to be on the floor. "I told you it would be a long night," Malfoy replied. He turned Harry around and pushed him up against the wall, then entered him from behind. Harry inhaled sharply and pressed himself backagainst Malfoy, who reached out andplaced his hands on the wall for leverage before driving into Harry over and over again hard enough to send him crashing into the wall.

Harry leaned against the wall to balance himself, clenching his teeth so tightly he thought they might fuse together. And resisted the urge to cry out. To scream. Because he knew he'd wake up the entire school if he did. Malfoy didn't seem to be any better off. And then Malfoy snaked his arm around Harry's waist, grabbing his cock, and started to give him the best hand job he'd ever received. Maybe it was just the fact that he was being fucked so hard he thought he was going to pop out of his skin.

And then Malfoy pulled him away from the wall and pushed him down onto the floor, still inside him. And Harry was on his hands and knees. And Malfoy was slamming into him from behind, and Harry was having a hard time keeping himself from flying into the wall. Malfoy's arms were planted on either side of Harry, his muscles about to burst out of his skin. "Just. let. go," he grunted, kissing the skin next to Harry's spine and biting down gently.

A strangled noise came from Harry's throat, then came against the floor. Malfoy, feeling Harry shudder beneath him, came as well, not bothering to muffle his cry. The sound echoed loudly throughout the small room as they both collapsed onto the floor, Malfoy lying on top of Harry.

They didn't move for several minutes, panting heavily. When the world finally stopped spinning, Harry shifted slightly, trying to get Malfoy off of him. A few seconds later, Malfoy groaned and rolled over onto the floor, staring up at the ceiling. After a few more minutes went by, Harry turned his head to face Malfoy. "How the hell was that paying you back?"

"I'm not sure," Malfoy replied hoarsely. "But, like I said, we've got a long night ahead of us."

"Right," Harry said, grateful that the stone floor was so cold; he was afraid he'd burst into flames. "So we're not done yet."

"Not even close. I haven't had sex in two days, now." Malfoy smoothed his hair away from his face. "That really never bothered me before. And then I had to have sex with you all the time. Now I can't seem to go a day without it."

Without it. Sex. Not without Harry. Because it was part of the deal. Malfoy could have proposed the deal to anyone. Harry had only happened to be convenient. Apparently still was convenient.

"You changed before you came here," Malfoy said, changing the subject abruptly.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You were wearing different clothes at Hogsmeade today."

"So?"

"They looked... nice." Malfoy was looking at the wall, away from Harry.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Really? I couldn't stand them. They were too... new."

"Yes, well, I guess a response like that should have been considered obvious," Malfoy said, sitting up.

"Hm?" Harry asked, rolling over so he was lying on his back.

"You're weird," Malfoy replied.

"Gee, thanks. This is what one wants to hear after they've had sex."

"I just mean that you're not like anyone elseat Hogwarts. You don't care about fashion or being... popular. And when have we ever talked to each other any different before, during, or after sex?"

"Sarcasm, Malfoy. And I'm already the Boy Who Fucking Lived. Why should I give a damn about being popular?" Harry rose to his feet slowly, making sure his legs weren't too shaky. "We should find a room that at least has decent carpeting," he said, walking around the perimeter of the room carefully, "because all of these hard surfaces are really starting to mess up my knees. And my elbows. I almost fell off of my Firebolt the other day because my arm froze up when I was trying to turn."

Malfoy examined his nails for a moment before rising to his feet as well, wincing slightly. "Not-so-hard surfaces. Got it."

Harry leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "So, now what?"

"Wait a few minutes, then we'll fuck again."

"Who's fucking?"

"You are. I have to recuperate."

"Right. But not here." Harry didn't really want to do anything on the hard, stone floor for at least a week. Or a few days. He reached behind him and pressed one stone that had a symbol engraved in it, making the wall open up again and reveal the corridor, with the Great Hall almost directly across from them.

"Where are we going, then?" Malfoy asked, rubbing his shoulder.

"I sort of feel like getting back at Snape by doing it on his desk. Or at least in his classroom."

"I don't know. He seems rather depraved. Maybe we'd just be doing him a favor."

"Please, don't." Harry waved his hands in the air and shut his eyes tightly. "I do not want to hear about Snape's sex life, nonexistent or not. I would prefer not to hear about his sexual preferences as well." He turned around and began to leave the room.

"You might not want to leave just yet," Malfoy called out quietly.

Harry turned around. "What?" he asked, confused.

Malfoy smirked. "I, personally, don't find anything wrong with your choice of apparel, but I'm not sure what other people will think..."

Harry looked down and realized he was still naked. "Oh. Right. Thanks."

"Don't thank me. I was actually rather tempted to let you go out like that." Malfoy picked up his robes and slipped into them.

"Of course you were." Harry snorted and put on his clothes slowly. After a few seconds, he began to laugh softly. "I was actually out in the hall for a few seconds." His laugh grew louder. "What if Filch had been out there?"

Malfoy began to laugh with him. "Peeves," he chuckled.

"McGonagall."

"D-D-Dumbledore."

Harry hoped the room was soundproofed, because he and Malfoy were laughing loud enough to be heard by anyone who happened to pass by. After a few minutes, Harry rose to his feet, clutching at his stomach. "Oh, Merlin," he gasped, wiping at his eyes. "I haven't laughed like that in... ever, actually. I think."

Malfoy shook his hair out of his eyes. "Me neither. If I have, then I don't remember." He looked around the room. "You didn't bring your invisibility cloak?"

"I couldn't chance getting it out of my trunk," Harry explained. "It took Seamus forever to go to sleep, and when he finally did, I was afraid I might wake him up again if I started digging around for it."

"Right. So we'll have to sneak down to the dungeons the old-fashioned way." Malfoy rubbed the back of his neck, then crossed the room. "Let's go, then."

Harry reopened the wall, and he and Malfoy exited cautiously, looking around and listening for anyone who might be coming around the corner. "It's clear on my side," Harry whispered, looking to the left.

"Come on." Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm and began dragging him in the direction of the dungeons.

"Do you think Snape'll still be there?" Harry asked.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"No." Malfoy began to walk faster.

"But what if he is there?"

"Why, do you actually care?" Malfoy asked, his tone sharp. "You said you wanted to get back at him, right? What better way than to get caught with me?" He paused at the end of another hallway, checking to see if anyone else was around. "Okay, let's go." He began to move even faster than before.

"Damnit, slow down," Harry winced.

"If you think this is bad, imagine how you're going to feel tomorrow," Draco replied unsympathetically. "If you hadn't run off so many times, we wouldn't be feeling like this right now, anyway."

Right. This was Harry's fault. A particularly painful jolt shot up his leg, making him cringe. Damnit, he'd never run away from sex ever again; getting back into it was just too painful. Especially where Malfoy was concerned...

"Hurry up, Potter," Malfoy growled, pulling Harry roughly down the stairs to the dungeons. "We've got to make up for lots of missed sex, and we're going to damn well do it tonight or I swear I'll yank you out of Transformation tomorrow." Malfoy slowed down slightly. "Or I just might start fucking you right there in front of everyone." He smiled evilly. "The look on McGonagall's face would be priceless."

"Too bad you're never going to find out exactly what she'd do if we started fucking in the middle of class since we're never going to do it." Harry's voice was low. He knew that if Malfoy smiled in that particular way, then he was actually considering it; he was so messed up in the head from missing sex that he just might try it.

"Oh, come on." Malfoy pretended to pout. "You can practically fuck me right under Snape's nose, but when it comes to your head of house..."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Harry said sharply.

Malfoy snickered. "Her expression would be perfect, though." He looked over his shoulder at Harry. "Don't worry. I understand that as long as I want to have you to turn to for sex, I can't mortify you or your... friends." He said "friends" as if they were slimy, disgusting trash.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"It means we won't have sex during Transfiguration," Malfoy replied, pretending he didn't understand what Harry really meant.

Harry shook his head. It was times like these that scared him; sometimes, Malfoy almost seemed to care about him. He wasn't sure why that freaked him out so much, but it did. Maybe it was because they were supposed to remain impartial to each other because of the deal, and if they actually started worrying about each other, then the whole arrangement might end... not that he really cared if Malfoy left. He could find someone else. But Malfoy was pretty... convenient.

"Here we are," Malfoy announced, stopping abruptly in front of the door to Snape's classroom. He opened the door and motioned for Harry to enter. "In you go, then," he said, pushing Harry slightly when he didn't move fast enough for his liking. He followed quickly behind him, closing the door quietly. "Now, let's get to it," he said, getting out of his clothes.

Harry just stared at him. "In a hurry?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

Malfoy sighed. "I told you, Potter," he said, briskly removing Harry's shirt. "I haven't had sex in two fucking days, and I'd like to make up for lost time."

"You could have fucked someone else, you know," Harry said, stepping out of his pants.

"It'stoo much work to convince someone to let you fuck them, though," Malfoy explained. "By the time I finally persuade them to get their goddamned pants down, I'm too tired to do anything other than the basics needed to get the job done." Malfoy frowned. "And then when whoever I was with sees me the next morning, I have to use all of the energy I have left to make them understand that I do not want to continue our relationship."

"Thank God you don't have to go through all of that trouble with me," Harry said sarcastically.

"We have a deal, not a relationship." Did Malfoy sound bitter? He looked down into Harry's eyes. "So, we're standing here naked. Why are we not having sex?"

"I have no idea," Harry replied. They stared at each other for a few more seconds, then practically slammedagainst each other, kissing each other hungrily. "Malfoy," Harry gasped, throwing his head back while Malfoy sucked at the base of his throat, "are you trying to eat me or fuck me?"

"A little bit of both," Malfoy replied, burying his hand in Harry's hair and tugging back to better expose his neck.

"Smart ass," Harry growled. He pushed Malfoy backward until he was more or less sitting on Snape's desk. "I think this spot right here is perfect."

"Glad it meets your approval," Malfoy said, a little breathlessly. "Now get on with it, already."

"Eager?" Harry asked, his lips curling upward slightly.

"No, I just want to get this over with so I can have at least a little bit of sleep tonight." Malfoy spread his legs. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing." Harry immediately began driving into Malfoy, making him come in what must have been record time. The only problem was it took so much out of Harry that his knees gave way and he toppled over, sprawling out on the floor. "Fuck," he gasped, waiting for the world to come into focus again.

Malfoy remained on the desk, panting. "You can say that again." His breathing slowly began to return to normal. "And soon you can do that again as well."

"Again? I can barely even manage to stand up," Harry complained. "Besides, it's your turn to fuck me..."

"What did I say about tonight, Potter?" Malfoy asked, sitting up.

"I do what you say," Harry groaned, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself up on his hands and knees.

"Or you could stay just like that and I could take you right there." Malfoy's hands rested on Harry's hips.

Harry let his forehead press against the floor. "God, no. I won't be able to move my arms or legs for a week."

"What's so bad about that when you get mind-blowing sex in return?" Malfoy asked, massaging Harry's hips and working his way up.

"I won't be able to do it again tomorrow," Harry replied, enjoying the feel of Malfoy's hands moving up his sides.

"Right." Malfoy rose to his feet, smirking when Harry moaned in protest. "Come on, get your clothes on. Let's go." Malfoy walked over to his pile of clothes and began to put them on, refusing to wince.

Harry crawled over to Snape's desk, using it to pull himself up to his feet. Then he limped over to his clothes. He proceeded to stare down at them, not wanting to bend over to pick them up. Malfoy sighed. "Accio clothes." The clothes levitated off of the ground and floated over to him. "Here," he said, shoving the bundle into Harry's arms. "Put them on, now."

After a few more minutes had gone by, Harry was fully clothed, and Malfoy was leading him out of the room. "Where to go...?" He looked from left to right, wondering which direction to take.

"What, you mean we're not...?"

"Potter." Malfoy's voice was low and authoritative.

"Right. Sorry."

"We'll go this way." Malfoy moved to his left, with Harry following behind him.

"What's this way?" Harry asked. They'd never actually gone in this direction before.

"You said you wanted to have sex on something less... unrelenting, right?" Malfoy continued to lead him down the corridor.

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he remembered that Malfoy was sore, too. He wasn't doing this for him, he was doing this for himself. Whatever. As long as he didn't have to deal with a hard, cold, stone floor digging into his limbs, he was satisfied. And then Harry noticed they were standing in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Malfoy turned around to look at him, waiting for him to say something. Harry merely raised an eyebrow. Malfoy shook his head. "Everybody's in bed and asleep now, so if we cast a soundproofing charm on the common room, we can have sex in there." Malfoy smirked. "So, cover your ears." Harry looked at him questioningly. "What, you think I want you to know the password to get in? Think again, Potter. Now, cover your ears."

Harry covered his ears, fighting back a grin. Malfoy was rather strange at times. Then again, he probably seemed somewhat odd at times as well. Then Harry noticed Malfoy's lips were moving. "What?" he asked, taking his hands off of his ears.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "How do I know you're not just pretending to not hear me? Sing or something so you drown my voice out. And did I tell you to stop covering your ears?" Harry replaced his hands, and Malfoy clamped his own over them. Then he turned his head to look at the portrait covering the entrance and said something, but Harry couldn't really make it out. Which was the whole point to his covering his ears and talking nonsense. When he finally let his hands fall to his sides, Malfoy looked at him strangely. "What were you talking about, Potter?"

"Hm? What, you mean the nursery rhymes?"

"Hm..."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, come on, you haven't heard of nursery rhymes?"

"No, I've heard of nursery rhymes. I just haven't heard any of the ones you were saying."

"Oh, well, you most likely wouldn't have. You don't have much to do with Muggles."

"Muggles? Muggles lack the intelligence to write nursery rhymes."

"You'd be surprised."

"You're just biased."

"Well, wouldn't you be, too?"

"Absolutely not. Muggles are inferior to wizards and that's the end of it." Malfoy waved his hand as if he were shooing the subject away. "Inside." He entered the common room, and Harry followed. It looked, for the most part, exactly the way it had when Harry had been there with Ron, disguised as Crabbe and Goyle.

Malfoy hurried across the room, pulling Harry after him, then pushed him into the leather armchair that wasin front of the fireplace. He looked up at Malfoy, who was soundproofing the room. Harry shrugged and took off his shirt, tossing it to the side. Then he got out of his jeans, knowing Malfoy would want to start right away; they'd had to move around a lot. Judging by how he felt right then, Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't be having sex for at least a week. Or a day, give or take. What could he say? Ever since he had started sneaking off to see Malfoy, he'd been addicted to sex.

Malfoy had already taken off his clothes, and was now straddling Harry. "Just make sure you keep your voice down," he said quietly. "Nobody's going to hear us, but they'll still be able to see us. I want to be able to hear if anyone's coming."

Harry nodded, leaning back. "So, how long are we going to be down here?"

Malfoy buried his fingers in Harry's hair, and he leaned in and kissed him roughly. "I've been telling you all night that we're making up for two nights of missed sex. What do you think?" He brushed Harry's lips with his own. "And don't talk unless I tell you to." He let his hands trail down to Harry's shoulders, then he started massaging them. Harry sighed and closed his eyes. "That feels good, then?" Malfoy asked, breathing into Harry's ear, making him shiver. "How does this feel?" he asked, moving one hand down to Harry's cock, stroking it. Harry bucked up into Malfoy's hand slightly, exhaling sharply. Malfoy grinned. "Right, then."

Harry clamped onto the arms of the chair, breathing shakily. He knew that in a few seconds, Malfoy would make him lose grip with reality; make him forget. Malfoy seemed to have that effect. He knew how to touch him in all the right places, even if Harry thought he was wrong at the time. And now Malfoy was slapping his face lightly. "Stay with me," he commanded, grinding his hips against Harry's.

Harry moaned, nodding. It was hard not to; even when he was alone in bed, or with his friends, or in the middle of class, his mind would be with Malfoy. With the sex. Because, Harry had to admit, Malfoy was fucking incredible. That is, he was incredible at fucking. Did Malfoy think the same way about him? Did Malfoy even think about him at all? Harry realized he'd been spacing out again when he felt Malfoy's teeth nipping at his neck. "Sorry," he muttered, readjusting himself in the chair.

Malfoy frowned. "You're not with me tonight." He sat back on his heels, studying Harry. "Where are you?" He leaned in close to Harry so he was staring directly into his eyes. "Don't leave me again," he ordered, running his hands down Harry's legs before spreading them apart. He repositioned himself so Harry was inside of him, wriggling around a bit until he was more comfortable. "Mm, that's better." Malfoy looked very much like a contented cat. Harry swore he could practically hear him purring. "Remember, don't scream too loud." He began to move up and down like he had that day in the conference room, his muscles working furiously until he found a rhythm that both he and Harry enjoyed. Which happened to be unbelievably fast. And hard. Within a few minutes the armchair was rocking back and forth on its legs, getting pushed back away from the fireplace.

Harry, who usually managed to keep quiet, bit his lip and shifted in the chair again. "Malfoy..."

But he didn't need to say anything else, because Malfoy always seemed to know. Malfoy reached down to the side of the armchair, still slamming into Harry and not breaking the steady pace, and pulled a lever so the armchair reclined backward, nearly sending Harry flying over the back. But Malfoy clamped his hands onto his shoulders and held him steady. And then Harry was able to stretch out along the length of the armchair, and Malfoy spread out on top of him. And Harry was looking up at Malfoy, noticing that, with Malfoy's back to the fire, he seemed to be a contrast of light and shadow. Which, Harry guessed, he already was anyway. Malfoy was unbelievably attractive, and sometimes his pale blonde hair and blue eyes made him seem deceptively angelic. Deceptively being the key word, since Malfoy was really as far from angelic as you could possibly be. Well, no, because that would have made him demonic, and Malfoy wasn't exactly demonic. He was somewhere in between the two. And the way that the fire made him seem like a living shadow, with his hair glowing like a halo around his head, he seemed to be a physical representation of his personality.

And then Harry noticed that Malfoy was looking just as intently into his eyes as Harry must have been looking into his. And then he saw the realization in Malfoy's eyes, and Malfoy looked away, bending over to lick and suck at Harry's nipples. Harry moaned and arched his back, still thrusting up into Malfoy. There was something oddly appealing about not having to balance yourself so you wouldn't smash your limbs against a stone floor, or topple over a table, or avoid crashing into a wall. Harry knew they'd be coming to the common room often in the future.

Eventually, Harry realized that Malfoy was getting angry because he still hadn't come because Malfoy was moving faster, harder, and he was staring at him intently. And Harry knew that Malfoy was wondering where he was. Just a few days before, Harry had been asking Malfoy where he went when they were having sex. It was different though. When Malfoy seemed to be somewhere else it was like his mind was completely gone, and his body took over; he came within minutes. But when Harry left... well, he didn't really seem to leave at all. If anything, he seemed to be more focused on what was whirling around in his mind than at any other time. He had told Malfoy he envied him. He did. He never seemed to be able to completely escape his problems, and all Malfoy had to do was... well, whatever the hell it was he did.

And then Harry was shooting into Malfoy, and he wondered how that could have happened. Then Malfoy was lying on top of him, breathing heavily, and they were tangled up together on the armchair, and neither of them wanted to leave the warmth of the fire or each other. "So, we'd better get on making up for that lost time," Harry murmured, stroking Malfoy's hair and staring up at the ceiling.

Malfoy shifted against Harry, inhaling slowly, deeply. "I think we just did," he said softly.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, still moving his fingers through Malfoy's hair.

0000

The clock in the common room struck four, waking them up. Malfoy got out of the armchair slowly. "You should probably go," he said, walking over to the rumpled pile on the floor nearbythat was his clothes. "Blaise wakes up around this time."

"This early?" Harry asked, yawning and stretching.

"Yeah. He gets a lot of crap from us about it. His excuse is always, 'Why waste so much time lying in bed when you're not in the slightest bit tired and you could be doing something productive?'" Malfoy shook his head in disgust, pulling up his pants.

"Now, that sounds so much like Hermione it's almost scary." Harry more or less slid out of the armchair so he was half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, basking in the warmth from the fire.

"Well, at least Blaise isn't obsessed with homework and tests like Granger is."

"Nobody is obsessed with school like Hermione is. I don't know what she's going to do once she gets out of Hogwarts." Harry laughed softly. "She'll probably end up teaching here."

"What about you?" Malfoy asked conversationally, not quite looking at him.

"I think I'll probably be an Auror," Harry replied, gazing into the fire.

Malfoy snorted. "Of course."

Harry looked up at Malfoy. "Why not?"

Malfoy shook his head. "It's nothing. It just figures, is all."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, everyone expects you to protect the wizarding world, and what better way to do that than work in a profession that hunts down the 'bad guys?' It's like you're playing right into their hands."

"What else am I supposed to do, then? I'm not good at anything else." Harry rose to his feet and began putting on his clothes.

"Exactly. You haven't allowed yourself to explore anything else. And when you leave Hogwarts in a few months, you won't be able to do so. Every wizarding organization in the world is going to be expecting you to become an Auror. Just try and apply for something in the Muggle studies office or something like that. I'll bet you fifty galleons that either they'll think you're joking, attempt to persuade you to become an Auror instead, flat out refuse you and say you're not 'cut out for this sort of thing,' or something along those lines. You, along with everybody else, believe that being an Auror is just about the only option out there."

"I don't think being an Auror is my only option," Harry retorted, shrugging into his shirt.

"No? What else are you considering, then?" Malfoy asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head in exaggerated curiosity.

"I... well... um... I like to cook."

"A chef. They probably won't even let you through the door, let alone accept your application." Malfoy moved so he was standing directly in front of the fireplace.

"What the hell do you know, Malfoy?" Harry asked, irritated. Some part of him that was buried deep down inside knew that Malfoy was probably right. Malfoy had the annoying habit of usually being right about almost everything. "What are you going to do?"

Malfoy turned to face Harry. "I don't intend to do much of anything," he replied calmly.

"Well, I guess it's easy for someone who has a fortune to fall back on."

"You don't know anything about my life or what I want, Potter, so we will end this conversation right here. Good night." Malfoy broke the soundproofing charm, then left the room to go to his dorm.

Harry, grumbling, left the common room and hurried to his own dorm. When he reached his bed, he figured he might as well just not even bother trying to catch any sleep, since he'd have to drag himself out of bed in a couple of hours, anyway. So he changed his clothes and went back down to the common room, flopping down on one of the more comfortable sofas. However, despite his efforts to stay awake, within seconds he was in a deep sleep.

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A/N: And that was chapter eight. You like? So, how was your Thanksgiving? I actually didn't feel like I was about to explode this year. And I had dessert and everything. Amazing, huh? Yeah, I know I'm a freak. Shut up. But review, too. Please.