Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been mine, never will be mine – I'm just playing with them and will return them in more or less the same condition I found them in.

WARNING: Dubcon, blackmail, coercion, slash (boyxboy), EWE, Hogwarts 8th Year, happy ending!

EXTRA WARNING: For mature audiences only, rated M for a reason.

Summary: There's lots of things a former Death Eater on probation shouldn't do, getting caught breaking the rules is high amongst them.

Chapter 3

Draco didn't see Potter for three more days. He wasn't at meals or in class, he didn't pass him in the corridors.

Again, he was left wondering where he disappeared to.

Embarrassingly enough, when he did run into Potter next, it happened to be while he was surrounded by a group of fifth year Gryffindors who were just getting warmed up to have some fun at his expense.

Potter stopped a few steps away and looked over the group. Draco expect him to walk away.

"Malfoy." He called instead with that dark tone of his. Draco flinched at his unhappy tone and tried to think of anything he could have done to piss him off. "Come with me."

The group of Gryffindors jumped as they all turned to look at Harry and opened a path for Draco to walk through.

"You got lucky this time, Slytherin." One of the boys hissed.

Draco ignored them as he aloofly passed by, far more concerned with the older Gryffindor that wanted his attention. The younger kids were annoying with their petty menacing behaviour, mostly because Draco knew he could easily deal with them if it wasn't for the stupid Ministry ruling. This new, dark Potter on the other hand... Draco wasn't sure he could deal with him even if they were on an even footing.

This Potter wasn't the same as the one he had shared a rivalry with two years ago. This Potter felt much more dangerous.

He trailed slightly behind Potter, apprehensive as he waited to see what was in store for him. Potter didn't even glance at him as they walked down into the dungeons. They arrived at the Potions classroom and Potter led the way in before turning to the Gryffindor side of the room and taking his usual seat.

Draco was left dumbfounded in the middle of the room before walking to his own seat and sitting down. Potter didn't even glance at him as he pulled out his potions book and quietly skimmed through it.

A few minutes later the rest of the class filed in.

Had Potter... rescued him?

Two weeks passed by in a blur of exhausting classes and nights filled with sticky dreams. Nothing changed as he touched himself every morning in the shower, imaging strong hands pinning him, tugging at his hair, kissing him... Imagining himself back on his knees in the cold stone room as Potter stood in front of him, hard and demanding.

He didn't see Potter except for a few glimpses at meals and once in potions. Potter still didn't look at him.

The only difference he did notice, was a lack of Gryffindors cornering him in deserted corridors. It wasn't just him either. He heard less complaints from the other Slytherins too.

He couldn't help wondering if Potter was behind it. It seemed unlikely but... he hoped it was Potter.

He couldn't help thinking about it. Was it Potter protecting him? Why? The other boy didn't act as if he liked Draco any more than he ever had – even when he was making Draco gasp and moan he didn't act like he actually liked Draco or anything. Perhaps Potter considered him his exclusive toy to torment and didn't want anyone else having their fun with him? That seemed more likely.

At breakfast an owl swooped down to his table and dropped a letter before him.

Tonight.

That was the sole word written on the small sheet of parchment with no indication of the sender.

He looked up at the Gryffindor table and found Potter there, looking back at him. Draco swallowed nervously and nodded.

Even from across the room, he could see Potter's eyes flash before he turned to talk to the person next to him. Pansy, busy nattering away as she filled his plate as usual, completely missed the exchange.

Draco absently ate and agreed with whatever Pansy was saying as his mind fixed on what he was dreading, expecting, hoping... for that night.

He arrived first again. He paced nervously for a few minutes before pulling out a cigarette and smoking it stiffly as he waited. He'd finished it and was considering a second before a noise in the doorway had his head snapping around.

Potter stood there in silence and just looked at him for a long time. Draco didn't have a clue what to say as he studied Potter's unreadable face, so he just stayed quiet and waited.

"Come with me." Potter said finally, turning around and walking away.

Dread filled Draco. Where did Potter want to take him? Were they going to McGonagall? Had Potter had enough of this game he had been playing with him?

His chest was tight and it was hard to breath but he forced himself to move. If that was the case, staying here wouldn't save him anyway and might just piss Potter off, making things even worse for him.

Potter was waiting on the other side of the door for him. He didn't complain about the wait, threaten him or even so much as frown as he turned and led him down the corridor. As they passed along the third floor, footsteps came from ahead of them.

Draco's heart sank. Either this was the teacher Potter was taking him to or he was going to get caught and expelled anyway.

His heart skipped a beat in fright as Potter suddenly yanked him behind a tapestry and into a secret passage, pressing him against the wall as a hand covered his mouth. Draco stared at Potter's barely visible face in the darkness, coloured by surprise.

It seemed like... Potter wasn't planning on handing him over to a teacher.

Also... Draco had no idea there was a secret passageway here. Where did it lead and how did Potter know?

Footsteps passed by them only a few feet away and the sound slowly disappeared. Potter released him and led the way again.

Potter was unbelievably calm about the whole thing. Just how often did he sneak around the castle at night?

It wasn't until they reached the seventh floor that Draco realised where they were going. Potter paced along the wall until the door appeared before opening it and stepping through.

Draco approached the door with trepidation. He'd avoided this room, this entire floor, in fact, all year.

This room held no good memories for him. From hours spend desperately trying to fix a cabinet whose magic he didn't understand, to watching his friend burn himself to death...

He stood in the doorway, trying to convince himself to cross the threshold and walk in. Looking through the door, it looked like a normal room. Surprisingly normal. A nice, normal fire was crackling in the fireplace, a sofa and table in front... and further in was... a bed...

Potter was leaning against the back of the sofa, silently watching Draco. He didn't order him to walk in or make an impatient gesture. He just stood with his hands resting on the top of the plush back, his feet crossed at the ankles. Waiting.

Draco licked his dry lips as he looked around again. There was no cursed fire about to spring up and try to steal his life, he knew there wasn't but... his heart was pounding madly. His chest was tight and his ears were ringing as he tried to convince himself to step in.

He almost bolted as far from the door as he could possibly get. Expulsion and Azkaban be damned!

He glanced at Potter about to run with an apology on his lips.

Potter was still just calmly waiting, watching – and for the first time, his eyes weren't hard and dark. He didn't look menacing, intimidating or mocking. His face and hair were softly illuminated by the fire as he leaned casually against the sofa and his eyes were... gentle.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light but before he realised it, Draco stepped in. The door closed behind him and Draco jumped.

"Come here." Potter said, extending his hand and beckoning Draco over.

He slowly walked across the room, eyes unable to stop checking in the corners for the lick of flames. Potter caught the back of his head once he was in reach and pulled him in to kiss him.

Draco's brain stuttered to a stop as he got lost in that kiss. For the first time, it wasn't hard, fast and ravenous. It was as soft as Potter's eyes. What the hell was going on? He didn't know but he wasn't about to do anything to change it if he could help it.

It wasn't until Potter was halfway down his chest, that Draco realised his shirt had been unbuttoned. He sucked in air greedily, having forgotten to breath through his nose as Potter kissed him.

There was a bed behind him, he remembered as Potter flicked the last button open and pushed his shirt from his shoulders. He wasn't sure how to react. He was both scared and excited, nervous and curious. Would it be like in his dreams? He wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

He wasn't gay! He wanted to shout but he could already imagine Potter laughing at him as he pointedly looked down at his groin that was betraying him.

Potter stood up straight and kissed him again as he walked Draco backwards toward the bed. His legs hit the mattress and he fell on his arse as he lost his balance, Potter doing nothing to help keep him up right.

His dissatisfaction must have shown because Potter chuckled – and it wasn't full of dark and insidious amusement. Draco blinked stupidly at that laugh.

"Take the rest of your clothes off." Potter ordered lightly as he began unbuttoning his own shirt.

A shiver ran down Draco's spine and he hesitated for a moment. Was it going to be like the last time Potter told him to drop his trousers? He firmly stopped himself from thinking, reminded himself that he just had to survive this year – and then he was free.

He untied his laces and slipped his shoes and socks off before standing up and unfastening his trousers. They fell to his ankles and he reached for his boxers before Potter had to tell him. His best bet was to do what Potter wanted without riling him up. It could only work out better for Draco if he could keep the other in a good mood.

"You can leave them on." Potter said suddenly, surprising Draco enough to make him turn and look at him for confirmation.

He froze as he saw Potter stood on the other side of the bed dressed in nothing but his own boxers. His fingers twitched as he looked over Potter's bare chest, which was more defined than in Draco's dreams. The urge to touch ran through him and his fingers twitched again.

"Get in the bed." Potter didn't even glance at him as he pushed his own trousers down.

"Under the covers or on top?" Draco asked with what he refused to acknowledge as a breathy voice. He definitely was distracted by nearly naked Potter.

He really, really wasn't gay – he reminded himself.

"Under."

Draco slipped under the covers and lay as stiff as a board on his back, waiting for whatever came next. His fists clenched and unclenched next to him as he stared at the ceiling.

He wasn't gay. He really wasn't but... he couldn't deny Potter got him hard.

Potter slid in the bed from the other side and reached over to pull Draco over to him. He rolled on top of him and leaned down to kiss him until he was breathing hard. Then, he suddenly rolled off and pulled Draco to his side, pushing his head down onto his shoulder.

"Sleep." He ordered as the lights dimmed.

"Huh?" What?

"Go to sleep. You look like shit." Potter huffed. "When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?"

"I... don't remember." Draco admitted honestly, to stupefied to do anything else.

"That's what I thought. Sleep." A touch of exasperation coloured his voice.

"But-" Draco cut his words off as he didn't know what to finish them with.

"But what? Would you rather I flipped you over and fucked you unconscious?" Draco could hear the dark amusement return to Potter's voice but for some reason the threat didn't scare him, it made him smile.

"I'll sleep." He said quickly as he tried to find a more comfortable spot on Potter's shoulder.

His feelings were complicated with this sudden, unexpected situation. He'd never shared a bed with anyone before, never even thought about sharing one with a man. Potter was being weird – weirder than normal.

But... he didn't hate it.

Potter was scary, unpredictable, incomprehensible... but right now, he was warm and... comforting. He felt safe.

He'd never admit it to the day he died.

He closed his eyes in the dark, taking in the soft scent Potter exuded and shifted a little closer while Potter's arm tightened around his waist.

To be continued...

Please R&R