Chapter Three:

"Stupid fucking jerk-off," Draco muttered darkly, slamming his book bag onto his desk, wishing that the wooden surface was Harry's face. He was such a fucking dumb-ass. Get a room? Come on. And the way he'd said it, with such hate and anger, it really made Draco's day that much worse.

Blaise Zabini whipped around, his eyes gleaming menacingly. And somehow the laughs just keep rolling on in. 'What did I do to deserve this?' Draco asked himself, wishing that maybe Blaise could burst into a thousand little pieces so he wouldn't have to deal with him. Unfortunately wishes rarely, if ever, came true.

"You'd better not be talking about me," he hissed. His voice was smooth, creamy, and dripping with suggestion. There as not a single hint of breaking or cracking anywhere on him, Draco was disappointed. Another wish for the dump pile.

"Don't flatter yourself," Draco muttered, slumping down in his seat as Professor Binns floated through the chalk board and settled before his podium. But Blaise didn't turn to face the front of the class, he continued to stare at Draco. No one ever paid Binns any attention, nor did he pay them any. Everyone just did their own thing and it was all good.

Attempting to ignore Blaise Draco pulled out a copy of "The Adventures of Marvin Miggs the Mad Muggle" and began to read., his eyes looking over the comic from time to time to see Blaise still staring at him, a contemplative look in his eyes.

"May I ask who it is?" Blaise finally whispered , pushing the comic down out of Draco's face. His chocolate eyes drilled right into the cold, grey pits Draco watched him from.

"Who what is?" Draco asked, pulling his comic from Blaise's grip and sticking it back into his bag. He had to keep busy or he was sure that his hands would begin to uncontrollably shake and sweat would seep out of his pores. Don't think about that night, just pretend it didn't happen.

"The 'stupid fucking jerk off'. I was wondering who it was." He grinned slyly at Draco, his white teeth a sharp contrast from the dark skin around them. A foot slipped up Draco's pant leg.

Draco jerked away, glaring at Blaise, who was laughing and still smiling daringly. Draco could have sworn that the young man was winking at him. "That's none of your business," he quietly snapped. "Now will you please leave me alone?" He looked around to make sure no one was watching them, and sure enough they weren't. Sitting in the back corner always had its perks.

Blaise ignored him. "Did you and Potter have a lover's tiff?"

Draco froze. Partly of fear at being discovered and partly anger for it being such a foul lie. He tried to laugh it off. "Me and Potter? Yeah right… what have you been smoking?"

"You whisper his name in your sleep? Almost every night…" Blaise looked a little pissed when he said this, but a second later he was back to his sleek, confident manner.

If there was a mirror nearby Draco knew his reflection would be paler than a ghost. He was trying to hold on to his cool but it was long gone. Only half-heartedly he looked up at Blaise to give him his lame excuse. "I… hate… Har… I mean Potter. I hate him. How do you know I wasn't having a dream about killing him?" Draco was proud of himself, that had come out a lot stronger than he thought it would. He'd even remembered to smile mysteriously and raise his eyebrow.

Blaise didn't even give it any thought. He learned forward till his mouth was almost pressed against Draco's ear. Draco felt his heartbeat pick up pace. "I know. When you say his name you're hard… I can see your boner through the sheets."

Draco jerked away, almost falling out of his seat. "I'm not a fag," he hissed. "How dare you say… Wait how do you know I'm… oh shit…" Draco could've hit himself over the head at this point.

Blaise laughed, a little too loud. People turned to look at them. Binns just kept on lecturing.

Draco sat in silence, watching to see if Blaise would say anything with everyone staring. Blaise just looked right back at him, his eyes full of glee.

Soon everyone grew bored and went back to whatever they were doing, listening to Binns excluded.

"I watch you while you sleep," Blaise finally said, looking away from Draco in embarrassment. "After last Saturday, well I thought we were, ya know… dating. And I've been in love with you since the first day I laid eyes on you. Shit…" he held his head in his large, elegant hands. After a few seconds he looked back up at Draco, who was sitting in stunned silence. "Can you just tell me, truthfully whether what we did meant something to you, or was it just another fuck?"

Finally Draco was forced to relive that night he had tried so hard to forget. Blaise had smuggled firewhiskey into the castle during their last Hogsmeade visit, and last Saturday they'd just been hanging out in the dorm when he offered some to Draco.

They both got completely pissed and one thing lead to another…

When Draco woke up he was wrapped in Blaise's dark arms, naked. For a split second everything felt right, but when he realised what he had done Draco freaked out. For the last week he had been doing his best to avoid Blaise.

'But you still really liked it. Blaise inside of you… you even imagined him as Harry Potter.'

"I was just…" Draco began, ignoring himself.

"Really drunk?" Blaise laughed sarcastically. "If only I had a galleon for every time someone told me that." Tears were welling up in his eyes.

Draco felt horrible. What had happened was just a mistake, and if he'd realised Blaise had liked him, well they never would have been alone in the first place. He reached out and touched Blaise's hand. "I'm sorry, but I'm not gay. I'm going with Pansy. We do things together, I like it." Especially when you imagine that she's Harry. "Please understand," he said in a slightly louder whisper to drown out his inner voice.

Blaise looked down at Draco's hand on his own and then up at Draco himself. He recognised the confusion on his face, he saw that Draco was struggling inside. Pulling away his hand he nodded gravely. "I understand." He looked at Draco pitifully and swivelled in his seat to stare at the front wall

Draco sat there, watching the back of his head.

'He knows, too. He knows what you're going through.'

'I am not going through anything! The freak was watching me as I slept.'

Even though Draco tried to be disgusted, secretly he thought it was a little cute and kind of hot. Very hot. Not in a gay way though, of course. Just in a "someone wants my balls so bad they watch me as I sleep" way.

And everything he said about Draco being hard as he dreamt about Potter, that was absurd. He was sick and stressed out. His body was just reacting a little different, that's all.

'How long are you going to live in denial?'

&

Draco walked up the empty corridor, his fingers lazily dragged along the stone wall. A hall pass hung around his neck.

The close proximity in which he was sitting with Blaise had been a little uncomfortable. Everything the young man said kept running through Draco's head so fast it was liable to explode. And every time he looked up at the back of Blaise's head he remembered that night as Blaise's head bobbed up and down in his lap. How Draco longed to run his hands through that short, curly, dark brown hair one last time.

'Not gay, eh?'

That's when he asked Binns for a hall pass, grabbed his bag and ran. Blaise watched sadly as he left the room, Draco could feel his gaze all the way. It made his heart race.

Without even planning it Draco found himself sauntering along the second floor corridor. Up ahead he recognised the all to familiar "Out of Order" sign hanging on the door of the girls' lavatory, swaying in a draft from an open window.

Moaning Myrtle. She was the only friend Draco had now. She listened to him, really listened. He told her everything, things he wouldn't talk about with Pansy, things he wouldn't even talk about with himself. Whenever he cried he could feel her arms wrapped around him, and even though it sent chills down his spines it was still comforting to know that someone cared.

"Myrtle?" he called, pushing the door open a crack. "Are you in there?"

No one answered. Draco pushed open the door wider. There was no sound, not even the regular sobs and moans from Myrtle. Just total silence. Draco felt like he could cry, all he needed right now was a friend, but there was no one there.

'How dare she,' Draco thought angrily, letting the door slam shut. He leaned up against the wall outside the bathroom to wait for her to return. 'The one time I really need her and she's gone. It's not like she has a life or anything.' Draco chuckled dryly, more out of desperation than amusement.

Something raced over Draco's foot softly, scaring the shit out of him. He looked down to see Mrs. Norris chasing a small mouse, her back legs pushing strongly against the stones as she leapt.

Before he knew what was going on Draco pulled out his wand and froze Mrs. Norris in mid-leap, her body falling heavily to the ground. Eyes wide open in anger. The mouse ran up a wall and began to shuffle across the ceiling, its tail dangling, tantalising the petrified cat.

"WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAT!" Draco heard Filch's screeching from the floor below. He knew, he always knew. Stupid Filch and his stupid mind thing with his cat.

Draco booked before he as caught. He took one look up at the safe mouse crawling on the ceiling and kept going, dashing up stairs and through tapestries until he was sure that he had lost Filch. He leaned against a wall, breathing heavily.

"Thought you could escape, did you?" A rough hand wrapped around Draco's arm, and tugged him up straight. Filch leered at him, smiling disturbingly. His teeth were brown and rotting, twisted in all directions. "You're coming with me, cat murderer."

"But… but…" And then Draco did begin to cry, as Filch dragged him along the corridor. Life really was fucking him over right now. Nothing good was happening, at all. Just one angst ridden moment to the next.

"Stop yer blubberin'. Be a man…"

And crying in front of Filch wasn't even close to an improvement on matters.

That's when Draco felt an urge deep down in the pit of his being. Hunger for love, Harry's love. He would've sold his soul to be kissing Harry right now, to know that everything was going to be okay, to know that there was still some good left in the world.

And for once he didn't contradict himself.