Chapter 6: Lights, camera, action!

Draco Malfoy blushed under Harry scrutinizing stare. The dark-haired boy had seemed to be glancing very often in his direction, and he didn't exactly enjoy the constant attention. It was disconcerting; especially because of the many rumors flying around that Potter had a passionate crush on him.

It was hard not to be rendered slightly (considerably) aroused after being looked at while eating strawberries and whipped-cream, house-elf dessert specialty (damn those wretched, annoying creatures!). Harry, being as bold and brave as his house description, would lick the white, creamy substance from his lips while gazing into Draco's unmasked, inviting grey eyes and then the blonde would moan while he touched his zipper—

"AHHH! STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Pansy Parkinson's nasally voice crashed like a tidal wave of disease-infested seagulls in his ears and he jumped about a foot off his seat at the Slytherin table, whimpering silently.

"Shit Pansy, not so bloody loud…my eardrums are inexistent now!" Indeed, he tapped his ear lightly to investigate the damage.

"We're in a public place, Draco! PUBLIC PLACE! What have I told you…?"

"Wha…?"

Apparently, Draco had dozed off during dessert, and his half of the table had seen him begin to touch himself. They gave him disgusted looks and continued eating, disgruntled.

"I don't have much of an appetite, thanks," uttered Crabbe, his face a sickly yellow as he diligently pushed his plate aside and gagged.

"G-guys…?" The red-head's voice shook from the dormitory bathroom. Unluckily, it was 6 in the morning and none of the boys could be bothered to wake up in time to get decent for school. That's what magic was for. What was the point of showering when one could merely cast a simple cleansing spell?

Ron took another cautious look in the mirror, which had unconsciously become his arch-enemy. The rash was spreading with a speed that scarily reminded him of the infection his dad had received from working in his dusty office at the ministry for extended periods of time. The elder Weasley had stayed home for over two months in order to rid himself of the painful warts that literally covered his entire epidermis. Molly wouldn't touch him for almost a year after the incident, and caringly decided that her husband needed more vacation time.

There was no way in the fiery depths of Hades that he was going to show his face at Madam Puddifoot's that day. Although, he did have other plans…

Harry sat, crouched, at the bar of the Three Broomsticks and downed another shooter of Firewisky roughly. Madam Rosmerta's eyes shone with sympathy, and she inclined her head, capturing the young man's gloomy atmosphere.

"What's wrong, m'dear?"

Harry's glazed eyes met hers and he sighed execrably.

"I-I think m' gay."

"Oh, well that's okay…why do you feel so down?"

"Think I'm 'n love with enemy." His head dropped with a loud bang on the wooden counter and he sobbed silently into his hands.

"Eesh. I think you should do what feels right." She left him crying, not knowing how to help the poor boy.

Red-eyed and stinking of alcohol, Harry returned to his dormitory. He didn't expect to find a very pretty, slightly glowing Draco laying on his bed in a very suggestive pose. Not even questioning how the blonde had got into his room, let alone his common room, Harry rushed to the other boy and kissed his lips passionately, making the other boy moan in approval. Clothes were shed and love was made, repeatedly, and only persisted until Ron stumbled in the room, also drunk, and realized EVERYTHING. He wasn't very happy, but this is a story about Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Who cares about Ron and his stupid boils?

Okay, I had to end it here. It was getting boring, anyways, and I started this a year ago.