Thank you to my reviewers, and to everyone who faved/alerted/read this fic. bows
Fourth-face: I'm switching back and forth, but Harry will probably get more time than Draco.
jessie: thank you muchly. It's not normally my cup of tea.
Palamija: Thank you, and I know what you're talking about. A lot of Harry/Draco have them snogging for no reason, or without explaining why. It's hard to keep them ic.
And, public service announcement, I need a beta.

Potter.

Draco sneered at the very thought of "The Boy Who Lived", and leaned back in his chair, ignoring the Potions lesson for the fifth time that month.

Potter.

A worthy conquest, in more ways than one.

It would please Draco equally to kill Potter, slowly and painfully...

Or to fuck Potter, slowly and painfully.

He wondered idly which one it would be, between stirring his potion counter-clockwise, and adding it bits of potion ingredients that he hadn't paid much attention to the lesson for.

His potions always came out alright, always. And if they didn't, well, Snape always marked them for full credit.

"Shit..." Draco mumbled under his breath, as the potion started to fume alarmingly. The fumes smelled of rotten eggs and cheese, and he knew that couldn't be good. What had he done while daydreaming? "Fucking Potter..."

Snape walked past him, dropping something into his cauldron, seemingly by accident, that made his potion turn the color of everyone else's.

Draco snorted a vague expression of thanks, and went back to daydreaming about Potter. About smashing his face in. About fucking his brains out. Sometimes even about both at the same time...

When class was over and everyone had gotten up to leave, Malfoy caught Harry's eye and licked his lips lavasciously at him. Harry blushed and glared, hurriedly turning to Ron and Hermoine.

"Oi, Potter!" Draco called, and Harry managed to seperate himself from his friends.

They stood a few feet away, eyes locked as the corridor cleared of students. When they were apparently alone, Draco leered at Harry and started to walk a circle around him.

"What happened to Wickle Ronnikins, Potter?" Draco said patronizingly, "Don't tell me you broke up? Or is his taste more towards... Mudbloods?"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said scathingly, not bothering to turn and keep track of Malfoy as he walked around Harry.

"Or are you just tired of him, and ready for the real thing?" Draco stood in front of Harry, hands on his hips suggestively.

Harry snarled and lunged towards Draco, pushing him into a wall forcefully. They struggled for a moment before Draco kissed Harry hard, pulling the other boy into him harshly.

Harry stiffened and then relaxed a little, letting Draco's tongue into his mouth. Though they were kissing and groping at each other, neither could forget that they were enemies, and occasionally lips would be bitten harder than was neccessary. At one point Draco's tongue started bleeding from Harry's teeth, and the Gryffindor proceeded to suck on Draco's tongue, making the other boys's pants tighten.

When Harry finally drew back, both of them were gasping for breath, pausing every so often to glare at each other and whisper vague threats.

After a few moments Draco pushed Harry off of him and strutted off, throwing back a, "Till next time... Potter."

He was halfway through the corridor when rough hands pulled him back, and he felt Harry's crotch hard against his back. Draco grunted, too proud to moan and let Harry know how he had affected the Slytherin.

Harry bit his neck visciously, and Draco knew he'd have a mark for the next week, at least.

As he stood stunned that "The Boy Who Lived", "Perfect Potter", would do something like that, Harry walked away, throwing back, "Till next time... Malfoy."

Malfoy hissed and started to plan ways to get back at Harry, each worse and more painful than the last. He'd get him back, and soon.

Potter.