Just to be on the safe side, there is a trigger warning for this chapter dealing with restraint! So be warned, my lovelies!


THE LOVE THAT FOLLOWS

Chapter 3—A Foregone Confusion

"Well, don't you look chipper this morning," Ron commented as Harry took the seat across from him at the breakfast table. He had woken late to find that Ron and Hermione had already gone down to breakfast without him, but that was fine. Everything that morning was fine.

"It's a wonderful morning, isn't it?" Harry grinned, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Normally he drank tea with his breakfast, but after the previous night and how late he had ended up getting back to the dorm, Harry felt as though he could use the extra caffeine.

"I know that face," Ron grinned back, nudging Hermione knowingly. "That is the face of a man who got some. Don't think I didn't hear you sneaking back into the dorm at an ungodly hour."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said lightly, still grinning into his coffee.

"Sure you don't." The sarcasm in Ron's voice was nearly as visible as the steam still rising from Harry's coffee. "That's why Malfoy hasn't taken his eyes off you since the second you walked into the Great Hall."

Unable to help himself, Harry's head automatically whipped around, searching for Malfoy. Draco, he corrected himself, feeling his smile widen as he met Malfoy's eyes. The blond was staring right at him, and as Harry's gaze met his, he smiled a breathtaking smile, one that made Harry's stomach feel tied in knots, knots that only tightened as Harry noticed that Draco had not slicked back his hair that morning, leaving it soft and loose where it covered his forehead.

Did he do that for me, just because I said I liked it? Harry couldn't help but wonder, and he wanted nothing more than to cross the room and bury his fingers in the silken strands, just to see if it really was as soft as it looked. With all the times that Malfoy had touched Harry's hair, Harry figured it was only fair if he got a turn, too.

"And you said Hermione and I were gross," Ron's voice cut through Harry's fantasy about sprinting to the Slytherin table and burying his hands in Draco's hair before tugging him in for a kiss. "Merlin, I feel like I need to tell both of you to get a bloody room and all you're doing is staring at one another."

Snapping his head back around, Harry felt himself blush. "I don't know what you're talking about," he repeated, feeling his heart still hammering at the heat that had been in Malfoy's eyes, much hotter than the breakfast and the coffee on the table.

"As I said, Harry," Hermione shook her head, looking amused, "playing dumb really doesn't suit you."

"How do you know I'm playing dumb and not just actually really dumb?" Harry demanded, wondering why he was arguing in favor of his own stupidity.

Ron and Hermione exchanged an amused glance. "Do you really want us to answer that, Harry?" Ron wondered, taking a bite of toast. "'Cause right now, I think I know what side Hermione and I are gonna come down on. And that side really is the dumb one, so I s'pose you do have a point."

In response, Harry grumbled something beneath his breath, something he knew neither Ron nor Hermione would be able to interpret, since he was pretty sure his grumbles weren't actually in English. A troll would probably have a better chance of understanding it than any of the human beings within earshot.

"Sorry, Harry, what was that?" Ron asked with a laugh. "Didn't quite catch it."

"I'm gonna start doing your little sister again if you're not careful," Harry threatened, knowing they would both recognize it as an empty threat.

At the joke, Hermione gave him a stony look, but Ron just chuckled. "Oh, as if she'd ever let you. She's married to her bloody broomstick now, there's no room in her life for anything else. Besides," he laughed louder, "I think she's lacking a few things you'd miss, like blond hair and a whiny attitude and a tiny posh cock."

"His cock isn't tiny," Harry replied automatically, flushing crimson as he realized what he had just said. Ron and Hermione both stared at him for several seconds before laughing, Ron slapping the table as he bent over, his face nearly ending up in a plate of eggs.

"Oh my god, Harry," he wheezed, face turning redder than his hair as he guffawed. "I knew that's where you were last night!"

"You don't know anything," Harry muttered, still blushing. While it was true that Malfoy didn't have a tiny cock, Harry had no idea why he had felt the need to inform Ron and Hermione of that. The man's cock was none of their business. It was only barely beginning to be Harry's business.

"I know enough," Ron chuckled. "I know that you spent all of last night sucking off the evil Slytherin dark prince overlord over there."

"He's not that evil," Harry argued, unable to deny the rest of it. "Probably."

"Just evil enough to be fit?" Ron grinned, shaking his head. "Hey, it's fine, Harry. If prats are your new thing now and albinism is some sort of new kink you've developed, all I'll say is, you know, good on you, 'cos it doesn't look like anybody else is lining up to take him."

Harry frowned over his shoulder at Malfoy, doubting that he could be the only one in the entire school to find the blond attractive. He was gorgeous, for Christ's sake, especially with his hair all loose and soft like that; surely Harry couldn't be the only one to think so? No, Harry was sure that Draco had admirers, a thought that Harry did not like at all.

"Excuse me? Harry Potter?"

A timid voice spoke up at Harry's other side, and his head swiveled to find a young girl, maybe fifteen, staring at him nervously.

"Yes?" he asked politely, trying not to be annoyed at the way everyone seemed to enjoy using his full name like that.

"I, er, have something for you," she stammered, surprising him by taking the empty seat on his left. She pulled out a small pink box with a white bow, setting it down on the table next to his plate. "My mum baked them,"—she paused to blush fiercely—"and I thought that you might like some, too? They're really good, I promise!"

"Er, what are they?" Harry wondered, feeling nonplussed. Why was she offering him something her mum had baked? Who even was this girl?

Her blush deepened. "They're chocolate biscuits and they're my favorite, they really are good!"

"I believe you," Harry said awkwardly, unsure what it was this girl really wanted. Was this another attempt at drugging him? "Thank you, er…sorry, what's your name?"

"Oh!" Her face was positively on fire now. "It's Cassia. Er, Cassia Addington. I'm in Ravenclaw."

"Oh, right," Harry nodded, trying to pretend the name was familiar. "Well, thank you, Cassia. And, er, you know, thank your mum for me."

"You're welcome," she breathed, staring at him with shining eyes that made Harry uncomfortable.

"Um, was there something else?" he wondered after nearly a full minute of her simply sitting there staring at him.

"Oh! Um, yes, actually," her blush was so fierce that Harry could almost see steam rising from her cheeks. "I was, um, wondering if…if maybe…"

"Yes?" Harry prodded gently, wondering if she wanted an autograph or something else daft like that. Lord, but he hated getting asked for his autograph, especially by other students. It wasn't like they didn't see him in the classrooms and corridors every single day or anything, right?

"I, um, was just wondering i-i-if…" she stammered, pausing to take a deep breath before blurting out in a rush, "I was wondering if maybe you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime!"

"Oh," Harry said in surprise, shifting uncomfortably and wishing that she had just asked for his autograph instead of asking him on a date in front of Hermione and Ron, the latter of whom was trying his hardest not to laugh. "Er, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm already seeing someone." And god had he never been more appreciative of an honest excuse to politely turn someone down. Harry had never thought he would think these words, but thank god for Malfoy.

"Oh," she said quietly, looking down at her hands, and Harry felt a trickle of guilt slide into his stomach.

"Sorry," he apologized. He hadn't felt this awkward in at least a few days and hoped that she would not start crying or anything insane like that.

"No, it's okay," she said with forced brightness, "I was just wondering. And she must be absolutely gorgeous to be going out with Harry Potter, so I can hardly object. I promise that the biscuits are good though, so just enjoy them, I guess, yeah?"

"Er, yeah," he nodded, feeling nearly as embarrassed as she looked. "Thank you," he called after her as she climbed to her and scurried from the Great Hall. Turning back to Ron and Hermione, he felt shock on his flushed face.

The moment the girl left, Ron burst out laughing, face nearly ending up in the same pile of eggs as earlier as he bent over and howled, and Harry wondered with annoyance why the git didn't just move the damned plate if he was going to keep insisting on laughing like a maniac.

"Breaking hearts before breakfast is even over, eh, Harry?" Ron sniggered, sitting up and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "Hey, at least this one wasn't thirteen."

"I'm not dating a sodding fifteen-year-old," Harry muttered, still feeling embarrassed.

Ron laughed again. "Or anything with girl parts anymore."

Glaring at Ron's obvious amusement over Harry's humiliating existence, he handed the box to Hermione without a word, who tugged it open and began casting spells over the cookies. Harry wasn't exactly sure what spells it was that she cast over his presents, but he trusted her to know the most in-depth ones for detecting any sort of potions or magic within food and drink. The spells she cast seemed to take forever, but finally, she straightened and shook her head at Harry.

"Nothing," she said simply, handing the box back to him. "At least, nothing beyond sugar and flour."

"Well, thank god for that," Ron said seriously, and promptly reached out to pluck the largest biscuit from the box and grin at Harry before shoving the entire thing into his mouth.

"I don't even need Hermione," Harry shook his head, "I'll just have you test all the food I get gifted with, shall I?"

Ron swallowed with difficulty. "If it's all half as good as these biscuits, I say it's a deal. Seriously, that girl wasn't lying, these are bloody good." He reached over for another one and Harry swung the box away with a huff. "Oi!" Ron protested, "Give us just one more."

"Fine," Harry rolled his eyes, watching as Ron selected the next biggest one and proceeded to shove that one into his face as well. "You do realize these are my biscuits, yes? They're not Ron's biscuits."

"Hey, I took down Horcruxes too," Ron rolled his eyes. "I deserve some kind of reward, don't I? And nobody ever sends me and Hermione gifts!"

"Weren't you sent a brand-new set of personalized Quidditch gear by someone through the post?" Harry raised one eyebrow. "And wasn't there one week where you got sent three marriage proposals from three different women? And remember that time you were asked out by that Hufflepuff sixth who had been stalking you for a month? And wasn't Hermione gifted that insanely expensive dress and pair of shoes from some wealthy bloke and asked to wear it on a date with him? And sent a stack of personalized parchment and that outrageously expensive quill and ink set from someone? And gifted like half the books in Flourish and Blott's by the owner when he found out it was her favorite shop?"

"Best present I've ever gotten," she said in a dreamy voice, eyes going vacant as though reliving that day in her mind.

"I can buy you books," Ron frowned, clearly not liking Hermione thinking about gifts given to her by other men.

"You can but you don't," she said lightly, smiling at him as he huffed.

"Okay, maybe we get a few presents," Ron said as he turned back to Harry. "But never biscuits! And nobody loves me or Hermione enough to try to drug us against our will, so we deserve biscuits!"

Harry stared at him incredulously. "You want deranged lunatics trying to drug you all the time and want biscuits as compensation because you're lucky enough to not have deranged lunatics following you around trying to drug you all the time?"

Ron scrunched his face up as he thought it out. "Yes," he finally said, reaching out for another biscuit.

Harry shook his head in disbelief, pulling the box farther out of Ron's range. "I say I should get way more compensation than you for having to put up with that shit!" Taking a biscuit out of the box, he chewed it slowly, surprised to find that it really was very good.

"Well," he said suddenly, "I'm going to go. I'll see you two in class, yeah?"

"Hmm, wherever could you be going?" Ron deadpanned, glancing past Harry toward the Slytherin table. "I s'pose we'll just have to wonder."

"Yep," Harry nodded, climbing to his feet. "And you'll just have to want biscuits while you do."

And with that he turned and left the Great Hall, hoping that Malfoy was still watching him and would decide to follow. He took a rather convoluted path of turning down small side corridors until finally, he came to one that he was satisfied would not be used by any other student. As he waited, he ate another biscuit, spinning 'round as he heard footsteps approaching. The sight of Malfoy strolling toward him made him smile.

"Hi," he greeted happily, noting that Malfoy looked even better up close with his hair loose like that.

Malfoy did not say hi back. "What are those?" he asked suspiciously, nodding at the box in Harry's hand.

"Oh, er, a present actually. You want one?" He held up the box and was surprised when Malfoy snatched it away with a huff.

"No, I do not want one, Potter!" he said tightly, surprising Harry again when the blond vanished the entire thing with a scowl. "And you shouldn't be accepting presents from other people!"

"Er, shouldn't I?" Harry asked in confusion. "Hermione checked it over, said there was nothing wrong with them, no spells or love potions or anything."

"That's not the point!" Malfoy snapped. "You're with me, Potter, not some little tramp! You're mine, not that Ravenclaw slag's!"

"Er…" Harry stared at him in shock. "I hardly think she's a tramp…it was only one date she was asking for."

"What?" Malfoy asked coldly, eyes narrowing. "She asked for what?"

"I didn't say yes," Harry shifted his feet uncomfortably. What was Malfoy's problem? Harry had obviously turned her down, not shagged her right there on the table.

"You better not have," Malfoy said in a voice that was far too threatening for Harry's liking, and he felt his shoulders stiffen.

"Or what, Malfoy?" Harry glared. They may have shared a spectacular night in the boathouse, but they were still just barely beginning to see one another, and Harry did not like the way that Malfoy was acting as though he owned Harry, as though Harry was his property or his sodding pet or something. Nobody owned Harry but Harry.

"Are you saying you wanted to say yes to her?" Malfoy's voice lowered as he matched Harry's glare.

"For fuck's sake, that's not what I said!" Harry exploded, considering just leaving forever if Malfoy was going to continue being such a berk. "But I don't get what you're so angry about!"

Without warning, Harry was suddenly pressed against the wall of the corridor with a furious Malfoy leaning into him, one pale arm barred across his chest.

"I'm angry, Harry," he whispered, eyes scanning Harry's face, "because some bitch has the nerve to ask you out when you're mine."

"Who the hell said I was yours?" Harry demanded, unsure if he should shove Malfoy back or if that would only escalate things.

"I did," Malfoy growled. "And so did you."

"You're delusional." Harry struggled to get out of the iron hold Malfoy had on him, but that only made Malfoy hold him tighter.

"And you're mine," he repeated in a dangerous voice, and Harry had had more than enough. He had been hoping for a bit of tense-free snogging, not possessive threats and overt lunacy.

"I'm not anyone's, Malfoy," he said angrily, "now get the fuck off me!"

"No," Malfoy said in a low voice, sliding one hand down Harry's stomach to stroke along the left side of his waist. "Not until you tell both of us that you're mine."

"I will bloody hex you if I have to," Harry warned, not wanting to hurt Malfoy but needing to get away from the situation and out of Malfoy's hold. He was trying not to panic but was unsure how long he could remain like that before freaking out. "You do realize that you're effectively destroying every ounce of the trust I had just barely begun to put in you, don't you?"

A strange expression crossed Malfoy's face as his mouth loosened. He appeared torn between wanting to move away and wanting to move closer.

"Just calm down, Draco," Harry said softly, hoping the blond would start acting less crazy if Harry kept the aggression from his own voice. "You're the only one right now that I'm interested in seeing, not some fifteen-year-old. But you're ruining everything by doing this. Why are you doing this?" The end of the sentence sounded nearly anguished to Harry's own ears, and at the sound, Malfoy promptly stepped away, raising one trembling hand to rest against his chest as though trying to calm the wild beating of his heart.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized, eyes clenched shut. "Fuck, I don't know what just came over me, I really don't."

Harry instantly took a step away from both Malfoy and the wall as he drew a shaky breath, wondering if he should use his freedom to his advantage and escape or if he should stay so they could talk about things. "I don't really know what to say here, Malfoy," he said truthfully, deciding he could always leave if he needed to and he may as well try to sort out what had just happened. He was, however, keeping in the middle of the corridor and away from any walls. "I don't like any of what just happened."

"I know, I'm sorry," Malfoy whispered, sounding pained. "That wasn't okay, I shouldn't have gotten so jealous—"

"I don't like being talked about like I'm just a thing to be owned, like I'm just some possession of yours," Harry interrupted. "I spent ten years and every summer holiday living with people who spoke about me as though I was just a thing, as though I couldn't hear them and had no mind of my own, and I refuse to be with someone who does the exact same thing!"

"I know, it was wrong of me—!"

"I'm not yours, Malfoy," Harry continued, speaking over him, "and I never will be. I may be with you if we do end up together, but I will never belong to you. You don't get to tell me what to do, especially when we're just barely beginning this…whatever this is," he gestured between them. "If we do end up together, I want you in my life as the person I'm dating, not my fucking owner. Got it?"

"Yes," Malfoy nodded frantically, taking a tiny step closer. "I get it, Harry, I'm sorry!"

"I have enough people trying to own me," Harry said, needing Malfoy to fully understand where he was coming from. "I have enough people thinking they have a right to me, trying to slip me potions and thinking they can make me do whatever they want, thinking that what I want doesn't matter in the face of what they want from me. I've been a puppet my entire life, Malfoy, turned into a servant and a saviour and a martyr by so many people who never once asked me what it was that I wanted. I have more than enough of it in my life already, and I don't need it from you too!"

"I understand, I'm sorry," Malfoy whispered, wringing his hands together. Harry wanted to ask how he was able to go from angry to distressed so easily but decided that was probably just a Malfoy thing. It definitely seemed like a Malfoy thing.

"I'll talk to you later," Harry sighed, deciding he did not like the conversation and maybe they should just wait to sort it all out.

"No, Harry, please!" Malfoy leapt forward and seized his wrist, immediately dropping it again at the glare Harry shot him. "I'm sorry," he said in a tiny voice, and Harry was immediately annoyed at himself as he felt his anger begin to slip away at the sound of pain in Malfoy's voice.

"It's fine, Malfoy," Harry sighed again, sounding weary. "I just…I think I just need to think about all of this some more. Maybe I haven't actually thought it through enough yet."

"No, don't say that!" Malfoy pleaded, shifting his weight forward although he kept himself at a distance. "You already thought about it! You told me you thought about it and that you had made your decision! I'm sorry, I really, really am! I'm sorry I got jealous like that, I won't do it again!"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "It's not the jealousy that's the problem. People get jealous, Malfoy, everybody does, that's not what this is about. It's the way you were acting about it. You do realize that you literally pinned me against a wall and refused to allow me free until you got your way, don't you?"

Malfoy's eyes widened at that, as though he had not realized he had done such a thing until hearing Harry point it out to him. Harry wasn't sure if he should tell Malfoy that he had really scared Harry with that move. Harry did not like being held down like that, completely unable to move or get free—it made him feel trapped and claustrophobic and gave him the suffocating feeling of being locked in a tiny cramped cupboard for days at a time.

"Don't ever hold me down like that again, Malfoy," Harry said quietly, taking another few steps back.

"I won't!" he said immediately. "I'm sorry, Harry, really!"

"I'll just…I'll see you later." Harry sounded tired; his good mood was now as vanished as the biscuits and all he felt was worn out. Without another word, he turned and left, praying Malfoy would not follow behind him.

Ears strained for any footsteps following, he took two shortcuts and ended up miles away from the Arithmancy class that Harry knew Malfoy shared with Hermione in the mornings.

Sighing to himself, Harry began to head to his own class, wondering if Ron was already there and wondering just what the hell was wrong with Malfoy.

oOo

Harry didn't speak to Malfoy for the rest of the day. He had no idea what to say and no idea what he felt. On one hand, he was attracted to Malfoy—he knew that to be fact and he could more or less accept it without too much of an existential crisis. But did that mean that he now had feelings for Malfoy? What if all he liked was Malfoy's face and not his personality?

But every time that thought passed Harry's mind, he thought of the boathouse and the way Malfoy had acted with him, the soft kisses and gentle touches and the way he had seemed so excited and amazed about something as simple as holding Harry's hand and sitting next to him. Harry would never forget the look of wonder in Malfoy's eyes when Harry had first shown up, like it was a present he had longed for but never dared dream he would actually receive. Harry had really liked that.

But on the other hand, Malfoy had all but flown off the handle at Harry receiving a gift from another person, something that happened to Harry quite a lot. Would Malfoy lose it like that every single time? Harry couldn't deal with it if he did. If that had been a one-time thing, Harry would be willing to just let it go, but if that was what was going to happen every single time, then Harry wanted no part of any of it.

Sighing, Harry tossed another rock into the lake, watching the water ripple in ever-expanding circles, wondering how so tiny a thing as a pebble could cause such widespread disruption across the still surface of the lake. Was that really all it took to cause such chaos? Just one tiny thing to start it all, one tiny spark to ignite flames large enough to engulf the entire earth?

Looking around himself, Harry spotted a large rock and threw it as far as he could, listening to the thunk it made as it hit the water and sank out of sight, and he wondered what it was he was trying to prove to himself with that action.

"Harry?"

A familiar voice called his name and he turned his head, startled to see Luna coming toward him.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked curiously, sinking down onto the cold grass next to him.

"Just thinking," he answered, turning back to the lake and chucking another rock in.

"Aren't you afraid you'll hit a lurdling?" she wondered, tilting her head as she watched him. "They like to swim close to the surface of the water, you know."

Harry stared at her, wondering if he should bother asking what the hell a lurdling was. No, better not, he decided, dropping the stone in his hand with a sigh.

"So what are you doing out here, Luna?" he asked, steering the subject away from nonexistent water creatures.

"It's beautiful down here in the evenings, isn't it?" she gestured toward the lake. "Plus, I've always heard that marnadines are known to gather in this part of the country around this time of the month as they're preparing to hibernate. They sleep through spring and mate in summer and hibernate underground but have been sometimes known to live in trees in the autumn. I've always wanted to see one but they really only come out at nightfall, so I've been coming down here at dusk every day hoping to catch sight of one."

"Er, and have you yet?" Harry wondered, unsure just what the hell kind of creature a marnadine was meant to be.

"Not yet," she sighed, sounding sad, "but hopefully soon. I can't wait to tell my father when I finally do see one, he's been trying to catch glimpses of them for years."

"Right," Harry said in amusement, shaking his head. He was glad that Luna and her father seemed to take so much joy from make-believe creatures that neither of them had ever seen. It made Harry feel hopeful to see the hope in other people, even if that hope was admittedly based on things that had never actually existed. "Well, I hope you see one."

"That's kind of you, Harry," she smiled, falling silent as she stared out over the lake.

After several minutes of silence, the two of them gazing at the water both lost in their thoughts, Luna finally broke the silence as she turned to face him. "You seem sad," she observed, tucking her hair behind one ear, and Harry noted that she seemed to be wearing actual flowers for earrings, a small purple flower that he did not recognize.

At the three words, he sighed. "Not sad," he said, "just…confused."

"What is it you're confused about?"

He stared in surprise, not exactly sure why he was surprised she had asked him that. Although he wouldn't exactly consider him and Luna to be the closest of friends, she actually really was rather good at speaking to about problems and helping him sort out how he felt about certain things. She was surprisingly insightful in a way that most people did not see when they looked at her. Harry had always felt a certain connection with her because he had always known that she too knew what it was like to feel alone and misunderstood by everyone around her, as he had felt the first eleven years of his life.

"Is it something to do with love?"

The question nearly made Harry choke. "Love? What do you mean by love? Why would you think that?"

She shrugged. "Just the way you were staring out at the lake and sighing, it seemed very lovelorn to me."

"Er…" Harry squirmed, unsure how much he could tell her. Did he really want to discuss his relationship problems with Luna?

"You don't have to tell me specifics," she said kindly, "but you can talk to me about anything you would like, Harry, and I can always listen, even if I don't actually have experience with whatever you're talking about. I've never been in a relationship before, but I hope one day to be, as soon as I can find someone kind and sweet who would like to be with someone like me."

Although Luna was still smiling, the words made Harry feel sad. "I'm sure there are plenty of people who would love to be with you, Luna," he replied automatically, unsure if he was trying to cheer up her or himself with the comment. "You're…really nice, and easy to talk to, and…you're very pretty…" he trailed off in embarrassment. Oh, god, why was he so pants at comforting people? Why was he even trying to comfort her when she did not look as though she even needed comforting?

At his words, she laughed lightly, the sound reminding Harry of windchimes in a warm spring breeze. "Thank you, Harry. You really are a very kind person, you know. You and Ginny are the only people outside of my parents to have ever told me I'm pretty. Ginny was very kind, too, I miss her being here. The two of you made a nice couple. Is the confusion over her? Do you miss her?"

"Er, yes and no," Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "I mean, I do miss her, but not in that way, you know? I miss her in a friendly way. She wasn't the one I was thinking about."

"Do I know the person you're thinking about?"

The question made Harry balk. Oh yeah, he thought darkly, you know him. You spent a thousand years locked up in the cellar of his bloody giant mansion. God, what was he thinking? He couldn't speak to Luna about Malfoy! What if that brought up awful memories for her? Surely Malfoy was the last person Luna wanted to hear spoken about, and certainly the last person she wanted to hear that Harry was dating.

"Um, yeah, yeah you do," he said quietly.

"Are you confused because of how you feel about them?" she wondered, "Or is it because it's someone you feel you shouldn't be with?"

Harry stared at her in amazement, wondering how she was able to correctly guess both of his main issues with his attraction to Malfoy. "Are you a Legilimens?" he demanded, suddenly worried that the girl was reading his every thought.

She laughed at the question. "I would hardly be rude enough to read your mind without your permission, Harry. That wouldn't be a very nice thing to do to a friend, even if I could do it. I don't think Legilimency is a very nice thing to learn; I certainly know that I have thoughts I wouldn't want others to know about."

"Oh, right," he said weakly, embarrassed he had even asked the question.

"Are you saying I was right earlier, with my questions?"

"Er, yeah, a bit," he mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"Well, why is it that you can't be with her, exactly?"

There was nothing but warmth and kindness in her voice, and Harry knew. He knew that Luna would never judge him or look down on him for anything he told her—he knew without a doubt that she was his friend and always would be. She was one of the few friends who had always stuck by him no matter what—she had gone to the bloody Ministry with him to rescue Sirius, for Merlin's sake, without a moment of hesitation. And all because he had asked her; she had been one of the only members of the D.A. to answer his call for help, risking her life for him on a suspicion that had been wrong, and had never blamed him or made him feel bad for nearly getting them all killed for a lie. She had always shown up when he needed her; she had never turned her back on him or ever made him feel bad about himself.

At both the remembrance and the realization, Harry felt a warm rush of affection toward her and decided he may as well speak to her about what was happening if she was going to lower his guard for him by speaking in such a kind voice.

"It's just…" he began hesitantly, "it's someone that…someone that I never expected to get involved with, because this person and I have never gotten along in the past. I thought they hated me. And I thought I hated them. But it turns out that they want to be with me…they say they've had feelings for me for a long time. And I might have feelings for them back, but at the same time…I dunno, I'm just not sure how to be with them, you know? Because I'm still not sure what my feelings really mean. And then today…"

"What happened today?" she prodded, casting a warming charm over the both of them, and Harry shot her a grateful look.

"Today…well, I got a present from some Ravenclaw girl today, a box of biscuits. And this person I'm talking about saw me eating them and freaked out and vanished the box, saying that I shouldn't even accept presents from anybody else because I was theirs and I belonged to them and all this insane jealous rot and even tried to force me to say that I belong to them. But then they got really upset and apologized for it and the apology really did seem real, but now I'm just not sure what it all means and if they're going to be like that again and I'm wondering if maybe it'd just be better for the both of us if I walked away from the whole thing now."

"And do you think you could?" she asked softly, head tilted as she considered him. "Walk from it all, I mean. Do you think you would be able to turn your back on this person completely? Or is there a chance trying to walk away from them would simply drive you mad from how much you would be left thinking about them and left wondering what might have happened?"

"I-I dunno," Harry said in surprise. He hadn't thought of it like that, but Luna was right. What if walking away from Malfoy only left Harry a mental mess from constantly obsessing over him? Harry was no stranger to obsessing over Malfoy from a distance; what if turning his back on the chance to be with him made that past obsession look like child's play?

"Can I ask you a question, Harry?" her whimsical voice cut through his thoughts and he turned back to face her, nodding. "This person you're talking about…you're not talking about a girl, are you? This person is a boy, isn't he?"

"What?" Harry choked, wondering just how the hell she had known that. Fuck, maybe McGonagall should hire Luna to teach Divination and not Trelawny. "What are you—how did you—what?"

She shrugged casually as though it was neither a big deal nor difficult to figure out. "You're being very careful with your pronouns, and I can't but help but feel as though if it were a girl, you'd have used the word 'she' by now. And it would make more sense for you to feel as though you could not be with a boy."

"I…" he raised a shaky hand to rake through his hair. "Yeah…yeah, I'm talking about a boy."

She nodded. "And is the reason you feel you can't be with him only because he's a boy? Or because of who he is specifically, even beyond your past hatred of him?"

Harry stared at her. "You are very, very scary," he said finally. "I really do feel like you're in my head right now."

She smiled at him. "It's not too difficult to infer all of this from the things you're not saying. The most important things you've said so far are the things you haven't actually said aloud."

He scrunched his nose in confusion as he pondered the convoluted statement. "I'm not even sure if that makes sense."

"It doesn't have to," she shrugged. "But tell me who this boy is. Is he another eighth-year?"

Harry laughed weakly. "What, you can't guess from what I've not said so far? You seem to be doing a really good job of telling yourself my side of the conversation."

She returned the laugh. "Well, I do have a small list of possibilities and I think I might know who you're talking about, but I thought it would be kinder to give you the opportunity to tell me in your own time."

"Oh, god," he groaned. "You already know exactly who I'm talking about, don't you?"

"He's very good-looking," she nodded. "And he's become a surprisingly nice person."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in surprise, wondering when the hell Malfoy had become nice or when the hell Luna had discovered this. It certainly couldn't have been when she was being held at the Manor.

"He apologized to me," she said, staring out across the water and sounding serious, "the first week of term. He approached me and asked if we could speak and apologized for everything that had happened to me, and especially for his family's part in it all. He told me that he had never wanted to see me hurt and that not even his parents had wanted me held against my will, saying that it was never their idea to see me imprisoned. He told me that that's the point at which his mother had pulled completely away from the ideology of the other Death Eaters, saying that she did not at all like the idea of a child being held prisoner in order to punish the child's parent, especially a pureblooded child and especially in her own home. He told me that his mother was very upset about it, actually, and I believe him. She was always surprisingly gentle with me while I was there and went out of her way to see me unharmed, and I'm certain it could have been much worse for me than it was, even if it was a rather terrifying experience."

At the words, the first thing Harry felt was shock, followed by gratitude for Narcissa Malfoy for looking out for Luna, followed by a fond pride in Malfoy for seeking Luna out to apologize, followed by an irrational wave of hurt that it had taken him months to seek Harry out and say thank you when it had only taken a week to seek Luna out to say sorry for his family's imprisonment of her within his very own home. Was an apology like that really easier than thanking someone?

"I had no idea," he mumbled, still feeling too shocked to say much else.

"I think he really is trying to change," she said softly, turning back to face Harry, "even if he hasn't fully gotten there yet. But maybe all he needs is a chance to learn from his mistakes. Maybe he's already learned from what he did today, Harry."

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. "Thank you, Luna," he finally said in a quiet voice, looking her in the eye. "I'm glad that I'm lucky enough to have you for a friend."

She smiled so widely at the statement that Harry was worried her whole face might crack in half. "Nobody's ever told me they're lucky to have me in their life before. Thank you, Harry." Her eyes glittered and Harry thought they looked suspiciously watery, but it was too dark to know for sure. "I think that might be the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I'm glad we sat in your compartment that day on the train, when we first met," Harry said, turning back to the water. "You're a really good friend, Luna, and everyone who knows you is a lucky person."

Luna said nothing, and Harry glanced over to see her turned away, wiping surreptitiously at her eyes. "Thank you, Harry," she whispered.

"Come on," he grinned, climbing to his feet and holding out a hand to pull her up. "Let's go look for some marnadines, yeah?"

By the time Harry was nearing the common room, he was feeling in a much better mood. He and Luna had wandered the grounds searching for imaginary creatures, and although they hadn't found any, he had still had fun. He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to Luna and how much he really did enjoy her company. He was grinning to himself about something she had said as he turned a corner, only to stop dead at the sight of Draco Malfoy sitting on the cold hard floor next to the portrait of the Fat Lady, head tilted back against the wall and eyes closed. Was he asleep?

The sound of Harry's footsteps as he neared made Malfoy suddenly jerk up, eyes flying open and landing immediately on Harry.

"Harry," he breathed, quickly climbing to his feet.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked incredulously. Was Malfoy waiting there for him? How did he even know where the Gryffindor common room was located?

"I'm waiting for you," he said in a small voice, leaning back against the wall and staring down at his feet. "I wanted to find you."

"How long have you been waiting out here?" Harry wasn't sure why he was so surprised at Malfoy's answer. Who else would Malfoy have been waiting outside the Gryffindor common room for?

"Oh, not too long," Malfoy said in a voice that Harry did not believe for a second.

"How do you even know where the common room is?"

"Oh, um…" At the question, Malfoy looked sheepish. "I may have paid a second-year to tell me. Loyalty and secrecy tend to lose their value a bit in the face of gold."

Harry shook his head with a sigh. "Well, here I am, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"Where…where were you?" Malfoy still sounded uncertain, as though he was not sure if Harry was about to stalk away or tell him to go to hell or something.

"With a friend," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching as he thought back to hunting down strange creatures that did not actually exist with Luna Lovegood.

Malfoy saw the smile and his face fell, hunching in on himself. "Was it that Ravenclaw girl?"

"No, it wasn't," Harry said softly, hating the injured way Malfoy had curled in on himself. Was he still upset about that fifth-year? "It was Luna, so I s'pose it was a Ravenclaw girl. Not that Ravenclaw girl. I mean, Christ, Malfoy, I don't even know her!"

Malfoy nodded down at his shoes, arms wrapped around his torso protectively.

Harry sighed. "Come on, then. Let's go find somewhere to talk, yeah?"

Malfoy glanced up sharply, appearing suddenly hopeful. "You want to talk to me?"

"Well," Harry sighed again, running a hand through his hair, "you came all the way up here and waited for me in the cold corridor on the fucking ground, so I figure we can at least talk. And…I was meaning to talk to you anyway."

"All right, Harry," Malfoy breathed, eyes shining, "yes, let's talk. Please let's talk."

One corner of Harry's mouth threatened to pull up in a small smile as he beckoned Malfoy to follow him, who fell into step beside the brunet as they set off down the hallway. "The North Wing should be empty," Harry said, and Malfoy nodded. Once they reached it, Malfoy darted forward to open the door for Harry, surprising the brunet. "Thank you," he said in bemusement. Malfoy slipped in after him and Harry pulled out his wand to lock the door and cast a privacy ward over the room, cast in silver moonlight from the windows lining one wall.

They both marched forward and took opposite seats at the nearest table, glancing at one another before looking away, and Harry wasn't sure how to start the conversation.

"I'm sorry for today," Malfoy said quietly, shattering the silence, and Harry glanced up to find him staring down at the table. "You were right to be angry with me."

"I was angry," Harry allowed, "but mostly I was confused. I wasn't expecting that, Malfoy. It was a bit more extreme than I'm comfortable with. I really don't like any of what happened."

Malfoy nodded, appearing abashed. "I have no idea what came over me, I swear it! I just…just the thought of you with that girl, seeing her speak to you in the Great Hall and seeing you accept that present from her…it just made me feel so…"

"Jealous and insane?" Harry asked dryly.

"Insecure," Malfoy answered in a soft voice, and Harry startled at the honesty and the remorse in the single word.

"Insecure?"

Malfoy nodded again, lowering his head even further until his chin was practically buried in his chest. "We both know that my feelings for you are much stronger than your feelings for me, if those feelings even exist at all. And we both know you could certainly do better than me, and that most of the school wants to be with you. And I also know that you don't actually owe me anything, least of all fidelity or any sort of promises of faithfulness, but…"

"But?" Harry prodded, unsure of how to respond.

"But…" Malfoy blushed and squirmed, "last night, in the boathouse…it was the best night of my entire life. And I wanted so badly for it to be just as monumental for you, and seeing you with that girl, I just…I just thought that…"

"That it didn't mean anything to me?" Harry guessed, wanting to scoff at the ridiculousness of the previous night not meaning anything to Harry. Of course it had meant something to Harry, it had meant something very important to Harry. He just wasn't quite sure what.

Malfoy nodded.

"Malfoy…" Harry sighed, wanting to rub his temples but keeping his hands in his lap. He did not want to seem like he was agitated with Malfoy, only at the situation and his own discomfort. "Look, just because I talk to other people doesn't mean it's some sort of negative reflection of my feelings for you. I am allowed to speak to other people, you know."

"I know," Malfoy grimaced. "I'm sorry for overreacting."

"It wasn't just the jealousy. That wasn't the worst part," Harry said, twisting his fingers together in his lap. "I mean, I meant everything I said about not being a thing; I refuse to be with someone who feels as though they own me. But I also meant what I said about you holding me down like that. I can't be restrained like that, Malfoy, I really can't handle it. It makes me think of—" he bit the end of his sentence off, wondering what on earth had possessed him to almost admit his upbringing to Draco Malfoy.

"Of what?" Malfoy asked, a pleading edge to the words. "I'm sorry, really, I'm so, so sorry! I won't ever do it again, I promise! What…what does it make you think of?"

"It makes me feel like I can't breathe," Harry mumbled, deciding they could never solve anything without honesty and stupid necessary disclosure. God, Harry hated disclosure. "It makes me feel trapped and like I'm suffocating. You remember how I mentioned earlier about living with people who spoke about me like a thing? And about being treated like an object and a servant?"

Malfoy nodded slowly, a pained expression on his face.

"My aunt and uncle never liked me," Harry said quietly, ignoring the tightening in his chest. There were very few things he hated more in the world than speaking about his childhood to others. "They were the ones who took me in after my parents died, but they never wanted me. I was forced at a young age to cook and clean for them, while my cousin was allowed to sit in front of the telly for hours at a time and eat all the food I had made. And…" he took a deep breath before continuing, "I never had a proper bedroom for the first ten years I lived there. I was kept in a tiny cupboard under the stairs, one that had a lock on the outside. If I disobeyed them or displeased them in any way, I was thrown in there and locked in, with nothing to do and nothing to eat, and I had to wait in there until they felt kind-hearted enough to let me out, usually when they were hungry and my aunt didn't feel like cooking or one of them needed something cleaned. There were so many times I would have panic attacks as a child from being locked in there for too long, but it only made them threaten to keep me in there longer, said I deserved it for being a burden. They would even lock me in there at night to sleep because they didn't trust me not to steal food or roam around the house or something. And even now, I can't handle feeling trapped like that, Malfoy, I can't handle feeling restrained in any way because it puts me right back there in that damned cupboard. And I especially can't handle something like that from somebody I should be able to trust because I should have been able to trust my aunt and uncle but I never could, because they never cared about me. And I can't handle the idea of not being able to trust the person I'm with when I should trust them more than anyone else in the world. You—you really scared me today, Malfoy, when you did that, I wasn't expecting that. So you can't ever do anything like that again, I fucking mean it."

After what felt like an entire century of speaking, Harry finally fell quiet. The silence around them felt heavy, and Harry risked a glance up to find Malfoy sitting straight up in his chair, spine a rigid steel bar. He had one hand raised, covering his mouth in shock as he gazed at Harry in absolute horror.

"That's how you were raised?" he whispered, still sounding horrified. "In a fucking cupboard? Put there by your own family?"

Harry nodded, tensing as Malfoy suddenly climbed to his feet and strode around the table to Harry's chair. Without a word, Malfoy flung his arms around Harry and dropped down into his lap, burying his face in Harry's neck as he shuddered.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, keeping his face tucked out of sight, and Harry was surprised at how thick his voice was. Malfoy wasn't crying, was he? …was he? "God, I'm so sorry, Harry. Nobody ever deserves something that awful, especially you! I'm sorry that happened to you and I'm sorry for what I did! I didn't mean to take you back to such a horrible time in your life. Fuck, I'm an awful person!" His hands twisted tightly in the back of Harry's t-shirt, breathing deeply.

"No, you're not awful, Malfoy," Harry said in a low voice, hesitating for a moment before rubbing Malfoy's back to comfort them both. "You didn't know about any of that. I told you so that you would know and so that nothing like this morning will ever happen again. And also because…" Harry trailed off and Malfoy squeezed him lightly in encouragement to continue, "because I want you to know me, my past and my secrets and how I feel about things. If we're going to keep seeing one another, it's important to know these things about each other, isn't it?"

Malfoy pulled back in shock, eyes bright and shiny as he gazed at Harry as though he expected the brunet to laugh and take it all back as a joke. "You really still want to keep seeing me?"

At the question, Harry smiled. "Do you really think I'd be here, telling you those things and letting you sit in my bloody lap if I didn't?"

Malfoy smiled a gorgeous smile, making Harry's breath hitch. "You're definitely the most comfortable chair I've ever sat in, not to mention the best-looking. I should start carrying you around for classes; the Hogwarts chairs are terribly uncomfortable and certainly not attractive."

Harry laughed. "I'm glad I could be useful."

"You are definitely something all right, Harry Potter," Malfoy murmured, slowly leaning forward to press a cautious kiss to his mouth. Harry responded without hesitation, kissing Malfoy back and lifting his hand to finally tangle his fingers in the silken strands of Malfoy's hair, noting that it really was as soft as it looked.

"I love your hair like this," Harry mumbled into the other boy's mouth, and he felt Malfoy smile.

"I wore it like this for you," the blond whispered, and Harry deepened the kiss, groaning as Malfoy began exploring Harry's chest and upper arms with his hands. "When did you get all these muscles, hmm? I always thought you were so scrawny when we were younger, but now…" Malfoy squeezed Harry's biceps, and Harry felt a rush of pride that Malfoy liked the way Harry looked.

"I spent the summer at the Burrow with the Weasleys," Harry said, speaking against Malfoy's lips, "and I spent all my free time playing Quidditch in their paddock and helping Ginny train for the Harpies. She had me doing the most insane drills and running every day with her."

Malfoy pulled back to eye him suspiciously. "And were drills the only strenuous activity the two of you were doing together?"

Harry gave him an exasperated look. "You do realize that you and I were not seeing each other at the time, don't you? And no, she and I weren't together at that point. And even if we had been, we certainly weren't going to get up to anything in her parents' house, with Ron sleeping nearby. Do you know how many brothers she's got? I don't need them hearing about me defiling their baby sister in the bedroom she grew up in and banding together to kick the shit out of me for it. Some of them are big, you know."

"Yes, I remember the dragon tamer," Malfoy said, and Harry frowned at the faraway look in Malfoy's eyes. Okay, maybe Harry really could better understand the Slytherin's jealousy; Harry was nowhere near as built as Charlie.

"Why didn't you go into professional Quidditch?" Malfoy wondered, pressing light kisses to Harry's mouth and chin. "If the youngest Weasley was offered a spot on a team, I'm certain you must have been approached by a team as well."

"Yeah, a few," Harry shrugged, "but I haven't wanted to play professionally in a while. I prefer a life with less of a spotlight attached to it."

Malfoy grinned against his mouth. "Well, then I hate to be the one to inform you that the spotlight over your head is not likely to vanish anytime soon, if ever at all."

"Ugh, I know," Harry complained, wishing Malfoy wasn't speaking the truth. Stupid spotlight. Why couldn't it shine on something that actually wanted it there? Why had it felt the need to find the most reluctant thing it could?

"You poor thing," Malfoy laughed with a kiss.

"Aren't I just though?" Harry smiled, "You should try to ease my suffering somehow."

"Hmm, maybe I should," Malfoy agreed, breath catching as Harry slid a hand up Malfoy's thigh and squeezed before sliding it around to his hip. The tips of his fingers dug into the top of Malfoy's arse for several seconds before he dragged his hand up the side of Malfoy's waist and across his chest, all the way up to his hair. "Hmm," Draco groaned, "Harry."

"I love hearing you say my name like that," Harry whispered, the fingers of one hand tangled in Malfoy's hair while he held Malfoy around the waist with his other arm. "Before all this, I never imagined you saying it in any sort of context, but hearing it said like that…Jesus."

"I want you in my mouth again, Harry," Malfoy murmured, and Harry shivered as his heart almost exploded from the heat in Malfoy's words, his eyes, his warm hands traveling over every inch of Harry they could reach. "I want to taste your pleasure and feel your cock on my tongue again."

"Oh, Christ," Harry groaned, kissing Malfoy fiercely, "who the hell taught you how to talk like that?"

"Nobody taught me my desires," the blond said in a low voice, "I'm simply vocalizing what I want."

"I love hearing you vocalize then," Harry panted, "you should vocalize your desires more often. All the time. Every day."

Malfoy laughed. "I don't really think I've ever been one to keep silent about the things I want."

"Except me," Harry rolled his eyes, "for years apparently."

"You seem to be the exception to most things."

Harry smiled but didn't respond, deciding that kissing was more productive than words at that moment. Moaning into Harry's mouth, Malfoy squirmed on his lap, putting pressure on his aching cock, and Harry couldn't help but return the moan. A moment later, however, and he was frowning in confusion, staring at empty air. Hadn't Malfoy just been there? Where the hell had he gone?

A tap on his knee drew Harry's attention and he glanced down, eyes widening in surprise when he saw Malfoy on his knees before him, smiling seductively up at Harry.

"How did you get down there so fast?" Harry wondered, incredulity coloring his tone.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "That's what you ask me? Really? I'm on my knees about to suck your cock and all you ask is how I got down here so quickly?"

"You're right," Harry grinned, widening his legs, "your priorities are clearly the better ones."

Malfoy chuckled fondly, reaching out to unfasten Harry's jeans. The denims were baggy enough that Malfoy could easily part them enough to pull his cock free, wasting no time in taking it into his mouth.

"Oh, god," Harry uttered, throwing his head back and staring up at the ceiling as Malfoy began to take him into the back of his throat. A groan escaped him as Malfoy swallowed around him, throat tightening, and Harry took a second to wonder at the surrealness of the situation; he wasn't certain if he would ever get used to it. He sincerely hoped the level of surprise and thrill would never fade, no matter how many times he and Malfoy did this.

Malfoy began to bob his head, starting shallow and slow and gradually gaining speed as he bobbed lower and lower each time. He twisted his tongue around the head of Harry's cock, the brunet panting heavily above him as he stared down in wonder at the boy on his knees. When he had been younger, he had fantasized of Malfoy on his knees before him in humiliation, in shame and apology, but never for something like this, and he certainly had never expected that kneeling before Harry would be a position that Malfoy would not only want but do so completely of his own free will—Harry would never have imagined that Malfoy would ask to be allowed to be in such a position.

As Malfoy moved faster and faster, Harry felt his thighs start to tremble, his entire body quivering as he felt the familiar heat of release building within him.

"Malfoy," Harry panted, both hands tangled as gently as he could in Malfoy's hair. "Draco."

At the sound of his given name, Draco doubled his efforts, stroking the thick vein along the underside at the base of Harry's cock while his head bobbed up and down faster and faster, Harry's thighs trembling and his heart pounding and his head swimming and his entire body alight with pleasure, with sensation, with life and heat and adrenaline and Draco.

Malfoy pulled back to the tip with a hard suck and flicked his tongue over the head, and at that Harry came, releasing a muffled cry that he tried to hold back by biting his lip so hard he was certain it must have broken skin, even if he could not taste any blood. Malfoy was still swallowing around him and humming his satisfaction, and Harry wasn't sure if he had ever felt more amazing in his entire life.

"Draco," he whispered, and Malfoy pulled back to offer him a smile.

At the sight, Harry was unable to resist kissing him, tugging him forward and pouring as much passion into it as he could before pulling back. "Get on the table."

Malfoy's nose scrunched up in confusion. "What?"

"Get on the table," Harry repeated, nodding toward the table directly behind Malfoy. "Get on and lie down on your back."

"Erm, okay," the blond said slowly, still sounding confused, and Harry grinned as he watched Malfoy climb to his feet and hop up onto the table. He swung his legs nervously for a moment before taking a breath and scooting farther back, staring at Harry for a moment before laying down.

Shaking his head in amusement, Harry tucked himself away and refastened his jeans before rising from the chair and standing over Malfoy near the boy's blond head, who was staring up at Harry so intensely that Harry had to glance down at himself just to make sure his cock wasn't still hanging out or something else as horribly embarrassing as that.

But no, everything seemed to be in order, except for one large and aggravating issue—Malfoy's clothes. Harry didn't like them. They were awful and annoying and completely in the way of everything good in the world that he wanted right then. He had never really liked the school uniform before and always took the opportunity to change out of his own the second he was able to, but he had never hated the uniform as much as he did right then.

Pulling out his wand, he bent down to kiss Malfoy, whispering a spell into his mouth and smiling to himself at the yelp Malfoy made in response as his clothing suddenly vanished and he was left without a stitch on.

"Potter!" he exclaimed, "You vanished my clothes! What the hell? You can't just vanish a person's clothing like that, with no warning whilst distracting them with a kiss! That's just—that's just perverse!"

"Are you objecting, Draco?" Harry raised one eyebrow at him.

"Well, I—no," Malfoy said, sounding doubtful "But you still can't just—"

"Oh, unclench, blondie," Harry said in amusement. "Your clothes are on that chair over there, I just took them off, I didn't banish them or anything."

"Really?" Malfoy twisted around to check for himself, seeing his clothing in a clumsily folded pile on a nearby chair. "That's a damn handy spell, I will definitely give you that. Where did you learn to do something like that?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Harry grinned, not wanting to tell him that Ginny was the one who had taught him the spell. She could be very demanding when she wanted something and could be far too impatient to deal with taking clothing off the long way. "I am a talented individual, I'll have you know."

"Prove it," Malfoy challenged, wriggling on the table, and Harry suddenly remembered that the boy was one hundred percent beautifully gloriously naked, just for him. "Show me how talented you really are."

"You're on," Harry chuckled, kissing Malfoy one more time before beginning to make his way lower, trailing kisses down his throat and chest. He paused to tug at both nipples with his teeth, loving the way it made Malfoy squirm and clutch at Harry's hair as though trying to hold his head in place. Harry licked and bit his way across Draco's stomach, marveling at the whipcord lean muscles of the blond. "Mmm, you taste like candy," Harry noted, grinning at the sight of Malfoy's stomach clenching and unclenching as Harry dragged his mouth across it, scraping the skin with his teeth.

"Of course I do," Malfoy panted, writhing as Harry reached what he suspected was a ticklish spot. "Why wouldn't I? Are you saying you were assuming I didn't taste like candy? That's simply absurd, Potter, all Malfoys taste like candy, it's our famous family flavor. It's a genetic trait amongst my ancestors, like blond hair and superior intelligence. We can only taste as good as we look, you know."

Harry laughed, watching gooseflesh ripple across Malfoy's skin as the breath from Harry's chuckles puffed against his stomach. "So, are you saying that you would have tasted like a prat when you were younger?"

"I said look, not act," Malfoy huffed, "How does one look like a prat?"

"Um, do I really need to explain that to you, when you were friends with Goyle pretty much your whole life?"

Malfoy grinned reluctantly, appearing to be holding back a laugh. "All right, fair point. But I've never looked like a prat so of course I've never tasted like one. Pratishness is not even a flavor, it's more a state of being."

"You did look like a prat though," Harry argued, biting Draco's stomach as he squirmed. "But a hot one. Hot posh prat was pretty much your signature look."

"As long as it was some sort of attractive, I'll take it," Malfoy allowed. "Now please, Harry. I thought you said I tasted like candy! What sane person has an entire tableful of candy before them and doesn't eat any of it?"

"Oh, I'll eat you," Harry said playfully, biting at Malfoy's stomach again and licking over it with his tongue. "Mmm, definitely candy."

As Malfoy's panting grew louder, Harry finally took pity on him, deciding the teasing had gone on long enough and Harry's fun would have to come to an end. Shifting lower, he raised his head to stare down for a moment at a completely undone Malfoy, eyes clenched shut as he dragged in heavy breaths. God, Draco was gorgeous. Harry had never thought that he would ever find another boy sexy, but Malfoy just was. He was sexy and gorgeous and attractive and hot as all sin and Harry wanted him more than anything.

Leaning back down, he trailed a line of kisses from the base of Draco's shaft up to the head of his cock, lingering there to lick along the tip before using one hand to guide it into his mouth. Draco cried out as his hips jerked up off the table, and Harry was glad he had only taken in the very tip as nearly half of the entire thing was suddenly shoved farther into his mouth.

"Stay down, you," he said sternly, pulling back to speak.

Malfoy smiled. "But I always thought it was better to be up during this sort of thing. Being down during a blowjob doesn't sound very effective to me. Who taught you these things?"

"Oh, hush," Harry shook his head, unable to fight a smile. "This is only my second time doing this, don't you dare choke me."

"I'll try my hardest not to," Malfoy groaned, "even though my cock is ridiculously large. Like seriously big, probably the biggest in the entire school. Probably even the nation, who knows, it certainly wouldn't surprise me. And reminding me that I'm the only person you've ever done this to will not help anything."

"Who the hell talks this much while they're getting their dick sucked?" Harry wondered, staring down at the blond in amusement and disbelief.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be very much sucking going on at the moment, so…"

Taking the—incredibly obvious—hint, Harry took Malfoy back into his mouth, stroking the base with one hand while he focused on licking and sucking the top half, humming around Malfoy and loving the way it made Draco's entire body shiver. Pulling off, he sucked at the head and tongued the slit for several moments before trailing another line of kisses down the shaft and lower, licking at the swollen sack of the other boy and hearing Malfoy cry out in surprise as Harry gently sucked a bollock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before releasing it and doing the same to the other.

Slowly moving back up, Harry kept one hand down there, rolling the other boy's bollocks around in one hand. In spite of the texture, they reminded Harry of two wingless Snitches, and he smiled as he silently awarded himself three hundred points for having caught Malfoy's Golden Snitches.

Taking the boy's cock back into his mouth, Harry began to bob up and down, hollowing his cheeks and speeding up his movements as Draco trembled and moaned. This time, Harry was determined not to embarrass himself by choking. He would swallow it all down without a single cough, even if it killed him.

"Harry!" Draco cried out, an edge of warning to his voice, and Harry pulled back to the tip just as Malfoy came, seeming to explode in Harry's mouth, who made a noise of surprise as warm liquid was suddenly coating his tongue, even though he had been expecting it. He managed to swallow the bitter liquid without choking, a feat that sent a strange sweep of pride rushing through him. He had barely even coughed that time, mentally congratulating himself on his progression from near-death the first time to one or two quiet coughs the second time. Lifting up, he gazed down at Draco, who was lying there with a glazed look in his eyes, face red and breaths heavy.

"Kiss me, Harry," Draco whispered, and Harry could not think of a single reason to refuse. He bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to Malfoy's mouth, wanting to convey his feelings for Draco through the kiss, because yes, what he felt toward Malfoy really were real feelings, not just attraction. Harry was finally able to recognize them for what they were—this was far more than just physical, far more than just getting off with another person. Malfoy had somehow become Draco somewhere along the way and Harry was only just beginning to realize how much he wanted to be close to Draco.

Breaking the kiss, Harry turned to the chair with Draco's clothing on it and picked up the teen's black school robe, transfiguring it into a blanket and turning back to the blond. "Budge over," he said, poking Malfoy in the side, and Malfoy immediately complied, smiling when Harry climbed onto the table next to him and settled the blanket over them both before lying down on his side and throwing an arm over Malfoy's waist.

"You're incredible, Potter," Draco said quietly, copying Harry by turning onto his side and folding one arm under his head.

"I know," Harry smiled, "it's a Potter family trait, like black hair and near-sightedness. We can only be as incredible as we look, you know."

Malfoy laughed. "I'll definitely agree that you're a speccy git with black hair," his face softened as he stroked Harry's cheek with the back of one hand, "but certainly an incredible one."

"Aaaand…" Harry prodded, still smiling.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "And a good-looking one, I suppose," he sighed in a long-suffering tone.

"You suppose correctly," Harry said smugly, laughing as Draco pounced on him and seized his mouth in a kiss.

Only when oxygen was becoming a serious issue did he pull back, shifting lower and settling his head on Harry's chest, naked body curled tightly around Harry's clothed one, and Harry couldn't help but run his hand along the bare skin of Malfoy's waist and back, trailing along his shoulder and trickling down his arm.

"I can't believe you sucked me off on a table," Malfoy said out of nowhere, sounding amused. "You do realize that other students' study on this table, don't you?"

"Oh, please," Harry chuckled. "Do you really think we're the first students to do something like that in here? This school has been open what, a thousand years by now? And do you really think that blowjobs are the worst thing this poor table has most likely seen?"

"Point," Malfoy laughed, pressing a warm kiss to Harry's chest. "It did get to see my naked arse, and we both know that's the best thing it has and will ever see, so I suppose the table hasn't suffered too much."

"Lucky table," Harry grinned, tightening his hold on the blond in his arms. The feeling of holding Draco like this, curled into him and held so securely against his side, head pillowed so trustingly atop Harry's chest, listening to Draco laugh and seeing him smile at Harry so fondly…it made his chest feel hot and his heart constrict, and Harry knew that he would never ever, as long as he lived, ever forget that night—the night he realized how absolutely fucking crazy he was for Draco Malfoy.

TBC