A/N: Hey, everybody! I just decorated the house for Christmas today! Yep, lights and everything. I'd like to specially thank Anaita (love ya, babe!), Lyth Taeraneth, S. Malfoy, Ravenfrog, DuckEyedFool, JWGrey, Flammy, Alex Destine, CtrlAltDelete, Syvixxe, Carrie Anderson, Gryffindorgrl86 (thanks for pointing out my mistakes; I didn't notice them before), pal411, willow, Forsaken163, hi, silvertoekee, ozumas girl, and Demon Rogue 13. Thank you so much for responding to my author's note! If you didn't review, then I'd think my stories weren't worth writing. And now, on with chapter ten! Oh, yeah, any of you heard the song "Kashmir," by Led Zeppelin? If not, you should definitely listen to it somehow...
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Chapter Ten
"It started again, claiming a friend
I couldn't be; I've never been"
"Sugarcoat," Breaking Benjamin
Harry woke up on Tuesday morning feeling somewhat sore, but he didn't feel caged or horny anymore. Okay, so maybe he was slightly horny, but that was normal. He opened the curtains surrounding the bed and was temporarily blinded by sunshine. When the black dots that were hindering his vision finally disappeared, Seamus' grinning face appeared about five inches away. Harry yelped and fell back onto the bed. "Morning, sunshine," Seamus said, winking. "Sleep well? You look gorgeous..."
"I didn't finish the Charms homework, Seamus," Harry cut in, rubbing at his eyes. Seamus scared the hell out of him sometimes.
Seamus sighed and shrugged. "Thanks anyway, mate," he said before skipping... yes, literally skipping... off to find someone who had actually done the homework. Actually, the only student in all of Gryffindor that could be counted on to finish every homework assignment was Hermione, and she never gave her answers away. Except for when you werebeing put through hell by Lavender, apparently. And Harry hadn't even copied all of the answers. He had been having sex. Outrageous, mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex with Malfoy. Harry grinned and got up out of bed.
After getting ready for school, he made his way down to the Great Hall, where Hermione was reading a textbook, Seamus was begging her to give him the answers to the Charms homework, Dean was looking at Seamus with disgust, Neville was trying to get Parvati's attention, and Ron was talking to Willow. Harry's eyebrows raised in surprise. Sure, there wasn'ta rulethat saidyou couldn't sit at any of the other tables, but it was uncommon; certain Houses just didn't get along all that well.
Ron looked up. "Harry, saved you a seat," he called, motioning for Harry to sit next to him.
Harry smiled. Ron wasn't saving a seat for him to be nice; he was just nervous around Willow and wanted someone to turn to. He sat down next to Ron and nodded to him, then grinned at Willow. "Morning," he said, reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.
"Good morning, Harry," Willow replied. "I just can't get over how good the food is here," she said, reaching for another piece of sausage. "I keep eating the food and thinking, 'Oh, well, it can't get any better than this,' and then it does."
"Yeah, it's good," Harry agreed. He drained his goblet of pumpkin juice, then poured himself some more.
"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Willow asked, her mouth full.
"Harry doesn't usually eat breakfast unless he has a Quidditch game. Or an exam. Or Hermione makes him," Ron replied, feeling slightly singled out.
Harry understood and gulped down the rest of his juice. "Well, I'd better go up to the library so I can finish my homework," he said, standing up. "See you in a few." He hurried out of the Great Hall and ran up the stairs to the library. When he reached his destination, he found the books he needed, sat down at one of the round tables, and started writing out half-assed answers to the questions Professor Flitwick had assigned the class on Friday.
"Didn't finish your homework? Bad, bad boy," Pansy whispered in his ear. She sat down in the chair next to him.
Harry looked up, surprised that the usual feeling of annoyance that appeared whenhe was incontact with a Slytherin hadn't crept into his gut. "Hey." He resumed scribbling out his answers on parchment.
Pansy raised an eyebrow at him. "Sexy and articulate," she purred, leaning in closer. She looked down at his work. "Hm." She pursed her lips. "Do you want the answers to that assignment?"
"Why?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.
Now, Pansy's other eyebrow shot up. After a few seconds, she shrugged. "Actually, I'm not all that sure myself."
"Oh?"
"I'm not sure what happened, but when I saw Brown hanging all over you a few days ago, I couldn't resist pretending to be interested in you... yes, pretending," Pansy grinned at him. "However, after that little incident at Hogsmeade, I thought I might like it if I got to know you a little better." She laughed. "And then I knew I'd like you after what you did yesterday to get her to dump you. You've got some brains, Potter. Every other guy that's tried to leave that girl has ended up transferred or worse."
Harry smiled, his cheeks tinted pink. "Actually, that whole thing was Hermione's idea. And you almost dragged me back into that whole damned mess." He mock scowled.
Pansy waved her finger at him. "Almost," she said.
Harry nodded. "It was funny, though. It's way too easy to mess around with Lavender."
"...No kidding," Pansy said, eyeing him pointedly.
Harry blushed. "Hey, it was a stupid move."
"Yeah. I mean, Lavender Brown? You should have come to me." She dropped her voice to a low, husky tone. "I would have been glad to help you out."
Harry's blush deepened. "Um..."
Pansy laughed. "You Gryffindors are so easy."
Harry grinned. "I guess it isn't just Ron, then."
"Who? Weasley? You do know that half the reason we mess with his head is because he's so easy to irritate, don't you?"
"And the other half?" Harry asked.
"Well, in my case anyway," Pansy replied, leaning forward conspiratorially, "he does this awkward, tall, standing thing where he glares at you, trying to look threatening." She smirked. "It's kind of hard to look intimidating, however, when your ears are three shades away from purple, and they're twitching."
Harry laughed. "They twitch?" he asked.
Pansy nodded. "Yes, they do. I swear. It's the funniest thing."
"The next time Ron and I have a fight I'll have to check it out." Harry shook his head, grinning.
Pansy shrugged. "I'll just get him nice and ticked off in Creatures today and you can watch from the sidelines."
Harry fluttered his eyelashes at Pansy. "For me?" he asked flirtateously.
"Ha! Don't kid yourself," Pansy said, punching Harryon the shoulder. "This would be totally for my benefit." She stood up, handing him a piece of parchment. "Here are the answers. I don't need them until tomorrow so you can keep them, but if you lose them, you can count on my making you pay." She glared at him. "Got it?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. "Thanks."
"I'd say anytime, but..." She winked at him. "See you later, Potter."
Harry nodded. "Parkinson." He returned his attention to his homework and Pansy's answers. Then he noticed everything he'd written down so far was wrong. Harry silently praised Pansy, then set to work correcting everything.
Ten minutes later, Harry entered the Charms classroom. He was out of breath, but he was right on time. He sat down next to Hermione, noticing that Ron wasn't there. He was about to ask her why, then he noticed him sitting a few seats to the left and back next to Willow. Harry rolled his eyes and fought back a grin. Willow's attention was taken up completely by a book, and she was trying to get Ron to see how interesting it was. And Ron was nodding politely and smiling. Then Willow showed him something on a particular page, and Ron wasn't just being polite anymore. Apparently the Ravenclaw had found something Ron actuallyconsidered interesting. And in a text book, no less.
"Would you look at those two?" Hermione asked, blowing her nose. "They're practically all over each other."
Harry turned to look at her. "Who?" he asked.
Hermione sighed and waved her hand at Ron and Willow. "Them," she replied as if it were obvious. "It's making me nauseous."
Harry patted her shoulder. "I think your nausea comes from actually being sick, dear." At Hermione's raised eyebrow, Harry shrugged. "What, so you can call me hon, but I can't call you dear?" He cringed suddenly, as if just realizing what he'd said. "Then again, 'Mione's just fine."
Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, it is." She blew her nose again. "I've shown Ron that book before."
Harry draped his arm across Hermione's shoulders. "He was probably just in a bad mood or something." Hermione shrugged, still looking at Ron and Willow. Harry leaned closer to her. "Class has started, Hermione," he whispered into her ear. Hermione immediately sat up straight and focused on Professor Flitwick. Harry had to hold back his laughter, hiding his grin behind his hand. When Flitwick looked at him funny, he coughed and straightened up in his seat.
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Harry and Hermione were eating lunch in the Great Hall, or rather, Harry was shoving food mechanically into his mouth while watching Hermione... who was staring at Ron and Willow... pour an entire bottle of salt onto a hard boiled egg. Harry half hoped she'd take a bite out of it. After a while, he just couldn't take it anymore and moved his chair closer to hers. "As Cinderella said, you don't know what you got 'til it's gone."
Hermione turned to look at him, confused. "Cinderella?"
"Not the fairy tale. The band."
"Oh. Sure." She half-turned to continue looking at Ron and Willow, who were laughing about something that was in the book they had been looking at in Charms. After a few seconds, she faced Harry again. "No, it's not that. I mean, Ron was, and still is, a great guy." She glanced over at Ron again. "But, you know, I'm kind of jealous. Not of Willow. Well, okay, a little bit of Willow, but not because she's with Ron. Actually, that's part of it." Hermione sighed in frustration and slammed the salt shaker on the table. "I'm jealous that Ron's found someone before I have. Does that make me a bad person?" she asked, wringing her hands.
Harry shook his head. "No. No, it doesn't. Trust me. I feel the same way." And he did. Sure, he'd had a crush on Cho Chang, but any possibility of a relationship with herhad beendoomed before it had even started. They just weren't cut out for each other. And seeing Ron with somebody that really seemed to like him back... yeah, Harry definitely understood how Hermione felt.
"Really?" Hermione asked, looking, for the most part, relieved.
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I guess I'm just better at hiding it than you are." Then again, he'd had practice. And lots of it.
"So, the best thing to do would probably be to quit wasting my time moping about Ron and Willow, and wait for whoever is out there for me instead." Hermione shook her head. "I'm glad he's happy and all. I hope I get to be happy like them, too."
Harry watched Ron and Willow laugh together. "Yeah. You know, I think everybody wants that, 'Mione." He looked at Hermione. "And not many people get it."
"Which is probably why I feel this way."
"Well, if everybody had it, then it wouldn't be so special." Harry sounded slightly bitter. He grinned at Hermione. "Hear that jealousy seeping through?" he asked.
Hermione nodded. "That helps. Knowing you feel the same way."
"Well, the only reason I'm not swamping my hard-boiled egg in salt is because I know you're sitting there doing it for me."
Hermione looked down at her plate and laughed. "Didn't notice." She looked at Harry again. "I'm assuming that 'don't know what you got' thing is a song by Cinderella?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. It's okay."
"Do you have it somewhere in your dorm? Because I'd really like to listen to it..."
Harry smiled. "Come on. We've got enough time."
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"I am officially a huge fan of Cinderella," Hermione announced, walking out to Hagrid's hut with Harry. "When did you get that CD?"
"Oh, um, at Hogsmeade..." Harry was suddenly very interested in a bird flying overhead. He couldn't very well tell her that he'd knicked it from the pocket of Malfoy's robes while they were having sex, could he?
"Really? Which shop?" Hermione asked. "Because I'd really like to get a copy."
"Oh, well, Dean has one of those CD burners up inour dorm. He could make a copy for you."
"Okay. That'd be great."
"Well, you'll have to ask him."
"Oh. Right. Okay."
Harry kicked at a rock that was on the ground in front of them, sending it skittering off some distance away. "You know, you should ask him to burn the two CDs from Led Zeppelin's 'Physical Graffiti,' too."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Good band?"
Harry nodded emphatically. "Hell, yes."
"I'll do that, then."
"Good. Dean will probably throw in some bonus CDs if you do, too." Harry grinned. "He loves Led Zeppelin." And then Harry suddenly had an idea, and he decided he would ask Dean for a copy as well.
"Hey, Potter," Pansy said from behind them, a fake sneer on her face.
"Parkinson," Harry mock-glared. "Can't find anything better to do than hang around me?"
"Oh, baby," Pansy purred, sidling up next to him, "you're all I think about." Both Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode, who had been walking with Pansy, looked confused.
Harry blushed, but said, "Of course. I'm irresistible."
"Damn straight," Pansy said, nodding and linking her arm with Harry's.
"Sexiest guy in the whole damn school," Millicent giggled, joining in.
Hermione just continued to watch them, wondering what was going on. Harry, noticing her confusion, mouthed, "I'll explain later," to her. Hermione nodded slowly, then mouthed, "Damn straight," imitating Pansy's walk.
"Saw that, Granger," Pansy said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Pansy replied, looking at Hermione. "Good job. Looked just like me."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Er... thanks...?"
"Sure."
Millicent giggled again.
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Harry was watching Hagrid demonstrate tothe class how to hold some sort of magical creature properly, which basically meant hold the little buggers like this so they couldn't bite your hand off. He was not... was not...watching Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know that a strand of Malfoy's hair had fallen into his eyes. He didn't want to walk over and kiss that mark on his neck... which he didn't know was there. Right. It was called denial, and he was knee-deep in it. Oh, Malfoy was wearing his "fuck me" shirt... okay, waist-deep in denial. So he was watching Malfoy. But it was all Ron's fault. Ron had been all over Willow, and Willow had been looking at him with those big eyes with those big eyelashes that kept fluttering like... something that flutters a lot. Yeah, it was all their fault. Because after watching the two of them at lunch and listening to Hermione ask him for fifteen minutes why she couldn't have something like that, Harry had started to wonder why he couldn't. And there was no reason. So why didn't he have someone like that? And then he'd started to think about who in Hogwarts could possibly hold that certain something for him, and, naturally, he'd thought of Malfoy first. After all, they were having lots of sex. And now Harry was... not...looking at Malfoy every few seconds, contemplating the possibilities. And cursing his supposed best friend for confusing him so much.
Harry sighed, then he realized he was still supposed to be listening to Hagrid. Er... which he was. He wasn't thinking about Malfoy. Definitely not. Malfoy was nothing but... a really good shag to him. Okay, and last night in front of the fire had been nice... Harry made a noise similar to a growl and clamped his hands on his head, shaking it around a bit. Then he realized the entire class was looking at him. "Um... headache...?"
"You want to go to Madam Pomfrey, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked, tugging at his beard worriedly.
"Er, no, that's okay. I'll be fine." Harry willed everyone to look away. Especially a certain blonde Slytherin who was standing about ten feet away from him, looking unbelievably fuckable... before Harry could stop himself, he smacked himself in the forehead. Hard. He reeled back a few steps, then bent forward, clutching his forehead. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he cursed, dancing around in a circle. "Son of a bitch!" When he straightened up again, he blushed. "It was a bug...?" He scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed.
"Sure you're all righ' 'Arry?" Hagrid asked.
"Yeah. I'm sure." He cleared his throat. "Promise."
Hagrid nodded slowly, then resumed telling everyone how to handle some weird looking snakelike things with rows of abnormally huge teeth crowding their mouths. Harry sighed and shook his head. He probably had a red mark on his forehead where he had hit it. At least the pain had made him stop thinking about Malfoy... damnit. Couldn't the stupid git just get out of his head? Harry raised his hand. "Hagrid?"
"Yes, 'Arry?"
"Could I go to the bathroom?"
"Sure. Take your time..."
Harry nodded. He turned around and made his way to the castle as quickly as he could. When he was inside the castle, he hurried to the one place where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed. By a living human being, that is.
When he reached the second floor girls' bathroom, he slipped in quietly. "Myrtle?" he called out quietly. When he got no response, he checked each of the stalls. "Myrtle?"
"Oh, Harry, hello," Myrtle said from behind him.
Harry jumped and whirled around. "God... Myrtle, you scared me."
"I was rather hoping I'd scare you to death," Myrtle said, looking downcast. Then again, when did Moaning Myrtle not look downcast?
"Er... right," Harry said, repressing the urge to shudder. "Listen, do you think you could keep watch for me?" he asked, trying to sound as polite and nice as possible.
"What for?" Myrtle asked.
"I just have to... think about things," Harry replied. "Oh, and if someone comes, don't let them know I'm in here."
"Okay," Myrtle said, glad to have Harry to herself.
When her back was turned to him, Harry did shudder. A ghost had the hots for him. That wasn't going to get him the happy relationship he wanted. He ducked into one of the stalls and closed the door, then sat on the toilet and lifted his legs up so they couldn't be seen underneath the door. Not that anyone would really come looking for him in the girls' bathroom. Especially with Myrtle lurking around the entrance. He pressed his forehead against his knees and folded his hands over his head, willing the insanity to just fly away and leave him alone.
However, after a few minutes, the thoughts that had brought him to the haunted bathroom in the first place began creeping back. Would he ever feel about someone the same way Ron felt about Willow? It had only been a couple of days, and already Ron and Willow were hanging all over each other. They had even finished each other's sentences in Charms. Scary. Okay, so maybe Harry didn't want exactly what they had, but he wanted something like it. And he wasn't very well going to get it spending all of his time fucking Malfoy or hiding out in girls' bathrooms. And it would get even worse if someone found out his... er... hobbies. Actually, the only person that would probably ever understand his odd behavior was, regrettably, Malfoy, because he was spending his time with Harry and he expected Harry to do offbeat, loony things. So if Harry ever told Malfoy he liked to find himself, or Malfoy caught him, in the girls' bathroom, he'd probably just shrug and start to deduce whether or not they could have sex in the place. Which they probably could. But Harry was sort of against losing himself in this particular bathroom; what if the basilisk had a mate? Not that it'd be able to come out without being called, but still... he wasn't letting his guard down, and that would give Malfoy one hell of a time. Plus, what if Myrtle watched?
Harry sighed and lifted his head up off his knees. He stared at the door for a few minutes for answers, but found that the door of a bathroom stall wasn't really all that inspiring. All he came up with was the fact that he'd probably die lonely. He just hoped he wouldn't have a lot of cats. A house full of cats seemed to be the definitive of a lonely life. And if he was going to find someone to love, it probably wasn't going to be Malfoy. What they had now was simple; they had sex. Lots and lots of sex. No strings attached. And staying together after school was over would be rather stringish. Did Malfoy even want a relationship? A real relationship? Silly question; who didn't? But did Malfoy want a relationship with Harry? Malfoy probably wouldn't want to have anything to do with Harry after school was over. Well, there'd be the war with Voldemort, but their meeting up on the battlefield was rather sketchy; there were going to be a lot of people fighting in that war.
Well, until the time came for them to leave each other, they'd keep having sex. And Harry would keep wondering who and wherehis "soul mate" was. And he'd continue to drown himself in his denial and believe he actually had a soul mate.
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Harry "forgot" about the rest of his classes for the day, going to his dorm instead. He had something he needed to get, and then he had tofind Malfoy. He didn't usually bring anything but himself to their "meetings," but Hermione had inadvertently managed to put an idea in his head, and he just couldn't get it out.
When he reached his dorm, he hurried over to Dean's trunk and began rummaging through it, looking for a particular CD. When he found the one he was looking for, he grinned and stuffed it in the pocket of his robes before exiting the room and making his way downstairs.
Harry walked over to where Hermione was sitting, picked up a roll, signaled to Malfoy, exited the Great Hall, and entered the hidden room nearby. He had already set everything up, so now all he had to do was wait for Malfoy. He was only trying something out, that was all. It wasn't like it meant anything.
When Malfoy entered the room, Harry nodded, then pulled Malfoy over to sit on a chair. "What's going on?" Malfoy asked. Not that he was nervous or anything; occasionally they did some sort of... activity... along with sex.
Harry shrugged. "Just wanted to try something out. Let me know what you think." He pulled out his wand, soundproofed the room, then walked over to a portable stereo and pressed the "play" button. Slow, grinding rock music filled the room.
Malfoy leaned back in the chair, stretching out his legs. "Hmm... what's this?" he asked, closing his eyes.
"Kashmir," Harry replied, taking off his robes.
"Sounds... fuckworthy."
"I know," Harry said, approaching Malfoy. "Okay, you know how I could only do what you told me to do a couple of days ago?" he asked.
Malfoy nodded slowly. "Yeah..."
"Same goes for you now." And with that, Harry straddled Malfoy on the chair, burying his fingers into his hair and kissing him deeply. He moved his lips to Malfoy's jaw, to his ear lobe, to his temple, to his forehead. Then Harry let his hands trail down to Malfoy's shoulders, pushing his robes off slowly. Malfoy shrugged out of them completely, and then Harry set to work on the buttons of Malfoy's shirt, sucking at each individual patch of skin as it was exposed and grinding against Malfoy in time with the music. Malfoy moaned and rested his head against the back of the chair. "I just might learn to like this song," he murmured, inhaling sharply when Harry licked the area right above his navel.
"It's a good song," Harry purred, running his hands up Malfoy's chest slowly, then digging his nails into Malfoy's shoulders and pulling himself up to kiss him again, hard this time. He moved his hands along Malfoy's arms until his shirt came off, then grabbed Malfoy's wrists and moved them so Malfoy's arms were wrapped around the back of the chair. He started sucking and biting at Malfoy's jaw, making his way down to the bruise on his neck, then back down his chest until he reached the waistline of his pants. He then let go of Malfoy's arms, still moving in time with the music, and undid the pants, pushing himself up with his legs so he could remove them. Then he grinned at Malfoy sexily and kissed him again, biting his lip gently. "I really do like this song," Malfoy stated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Harry smiled, then shook off his own robes, still grinding against Malfoy slowly. Then he removed his shirt, making sure he moved in a way that showed off his muscles, and tossed it away. He pressed himself up against Malfoy, licking a trail from one shoulder blade to the other. "I like it, too," he murmured, rubbing his hips against Malfoy before reaching down to undo his pants. He stood up and took them off quickly, then re-straddled Malfoy, resuming his movements. He kissed Malfoy thoroughly, then pulled away, running his thumb along Malfoy's cheekbone. "The CD belongs to Dean."
"Thomas?" Malfoy asked, closing his eyes. "Get a copy," he commanded, groaning when Harry moved against him in a particular way.
"Already planned to," Harry replied. He sank down to the floor so he was on his knees, then grabbed Malfoy's hands and pulled him down to the floor so he was kneeling in front of him. "The good thing about this song," Harry said, his lips moving against Malfoy's ear as he ran his hands up his arms, "is that it's fairly long." He pressed his hands into Malfoy's back so they moved closer together. "So we can take our time." He pushed at Malfoy's chest until he was lying on his back, then spread out on top of him.
Malfoy folded his hands behind his head. "We're about to have sex on a hard surface again."
"I figure it's worth it," Harry replied, moving his hips against Malfoy's again.
Malfoy moaned softly. "Yeah, okay, it's worth it."
Harry grinned, entering Malfoy slowly. Malfoy arched back, inhaling sharply. Harry wriggled around to fit inside Malfoy better, making him groan and spread his legs wider. Then he began to thrust into him slowly, still keeping time with the music.
After a while, Malfoy groaned impatiently and bucked up into Harry, trying to speed up the process. "I'm starting to not like this song so much," he complained. Then Harry did something rather amazing with his tongue, and Malfoy gasped. "Then again, it's really not so bad."
Harry laughed. "It'll get better. I promise."
A few minutes later, Harry was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and Malfoy was face down on the floor, shaking his head. "Mrfufifuf," he said.
"What?" Harry asked, looking at his fingernails.
Malfoy rolled over onto his side. "I said I love that song."
Harry smiled. "Yeah. Suddenly it appeals to me much more." He pretending to frown. "However, whenever I hear it from now on, I'm going to think of sex."
Malfoy shrugged. "So?" He flipped over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows. "Got any more songs that are fuckworthy?"
"Sure. But I'm saving them for another time." Harry sat up and scratched his shoulder.
"So what are we supposed to do in the mean time?" Malfoy asked.
"We can play the song again," Harry suggested.
"Great. This time I get to be on top."
Harry stood up and walked over to the stereo, setting up the song again.
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Harry finally made it to his dorm at two in the morning, placing Dean's CD in his trunk after making sure he inserted a "thank you" note inside. He walked over to his bed and flopped onto the mattress, wincing when the springs squeaked in protest to his weight. Ron muttered something and Seamus turned over onto his other side, but nobody woke up. Harry sighed in relief and rested his head on the pillows, not bothering to close the curtains around his bed.
The night had most definitely not been dull. And Harry had been telling the truth about what he'd think of the song now; whenever he heard "Kashmir," he would now think of sex. Hot, slow, torturous sex that seemed to go on forever, but end too soon. Malfoy had made sure to show Harry exactly how he had felt when Harry had been on top. And then Harry had insisted on revenge by fucking Malfoy all over again. And then, of course, Malfoy had to avenge himself. And it had gone on that way until the CD had started skipping and Harry had looked at his watch. Malfoy had then grunted in protest and told Harry to never wear the "cursed piece of Muggle-invented shit" ever again. But Harry knew Malfoy hadn't really meant it; without a watch, they'd keep at it until morning, and then they'd have a lot to explain when a teacher or student found them. Or a ghost, but they weren't likely to say anything. But if Peeves popped in on them... Harry was thankful that Peeves had never shown up.
Harry rolled over onto his side, immediately regretting the action; he could practically hear his bones creaking in protest. He wasn't even out of his teens and he was already getting sore after having sex. Then again, it wasn't like Malfoy was gentle or anything. But Harry had found, ever since the deal, that he didn't like gentle. Anybody he had had sex with before the deal had been awkward around him both during and after, and they always insisted on going slowly, wanting to prolong the experience. Ithad beenbloody annoying. Sure, Harry liked to drag everything out as long as he could, but he also liked to feel something. Whenever anyone, before Malfoy anyway, had said "let's go slowly," they meant, "move so slow it takes fifteen damned minutes just to get our clothes off, and be so fucking gentle I can't feel anything." Every time Harry had had sex with someone before Malfoy, he had been tempted to walk out in the middle of it all and just wank off in his room.
But then Malfoy had come up to him secretly during the winter formal, and ever since then they'd been having sex every night. And in between. And Harry had found that he just couldn't stop. When it came to Malfoy, that is. Anyone else was boring and troublesome. Harry had to actually think about what he was doing. But with Malfoy, it was all intuition. Which was peculiar, to say the least. Did Malfoy feel the same way? He must have been bored before, or he wouldn't have approached Harry in the first place. Right?
Harry sighed and punched his pillow. Everything was so confusing. And he'd thought that things would start to sort themselves out by his seventh year. He'd basically grown up at Hogwarts believing that all Slytherins were cheating, conniving, sneaky, back-stabbing bastards. Then Malfoy had approached him about the deal, and he hadn't told the Daily Prophet or anything like that, and he wasn't demanding anything more than the terms they had agreed on. And Pansy and Millicent seemed like truly decent people, even if they were a bit dark and twisted in an amusing kind of way. Harry was able to joke around and flirt with them in a way he couldn't with his fellow Gryffindors. They also gave himan alternativeperspective. Which was nice, to say the least.
And then Harry wondered why it had taken him nearly seven years to find out that the Slytherins, while definitely having a different outlook on life from the Gryffindors, were, ultimately, just as... people-ish as he was. But he couldn't ever tell any of his housemates that; they'd think he was crazy. Except, maybe, Hermione. She had seemed okay when he'd talked to Pansy and Millicent. But if she found out what he was doing with Malfoy... she'd probably just stupefy him and send him off to St. Mungo's without delay. And Harry wondered why he bothered with Malfoy, too. They didn't usually say much to each other outside of what needed to be said, except for when they were fighting. But lately... Harry groaned in frustration and shifted his position. It didn't matter if they were actually having decent conversations; they would never be anything more to each other than a means to forget whatever it was that they were running away from.
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Yes, this chapter was much shorter than the last one. But there really wasn't much else to say. Poor Harry. He's so confused, isn't he? Oh, and I've decided what the ending's going to be. Thank you for your input! I'll bet you thought I was going to tell you what I've chosen, didn't you? Come on, I'm not that nice. I will tell you this though, if I don't like the way my chosen ending turns out, I'll probably post another chapter with an alternate ending so you can decide which one you like better (kind of like those DVDs...). Thank you for reading, and review, please!
