When later that day, Harry walked into transfiguration classroom, he could still taste Malfoy on his lips. He couldn't stop thinking about the last few hours. They had snogged all morning until Harry eventually had to go to make it to lunch and his first class in the afternoon.

He approached his usual desk he shared with his friends, both Ron and Hermione already there.

"Hey guys," he said, slipping into the seat next to Hermione.

"Hi Harry," the girl replied, looking up from her book.

"Long time no see, mate," Ron nodded his greeting at Harry. "Dumbledore must have had something really im-…"

"Ron!" Hermione interrupted in a quiet hiss "You know Harry can't talk about it! And stop talking so loud before someone hears you! There must be a reason for which professor Dumbledore wants it to remain a secret," she scolded the red-haired boy.

Ron shrugged "Yeah, I know," he mumbled, "I'm just curious."

"Curious about what exactly, Mr. Weasley, if I may ask?"

The trio turned their heads and saw professor McGonagall standing right next to their desk.

"Um," red blush crept up Ron's face, "About what we will be doing at today's class, professor," he mumbled quickly.

Harry could swear he saw McGonagall rolling her eyes before she walked to the front of the classroom and started the lecture.

Harry finally had time to drift back to his thoughts of Malfoy. The awareness that the blond was sitting only several rows away made his stomach flip, especially when he remembered the heat of the Slytherin's body pressed against him, and the face he'd been making when he was staring at Harry just before leaning in to kiss him. Harry adored that face. It wasn't the same face Malfoy had presented to Harry on every occasion they met through all those years; stained with mockery and hatred. No, this face was gentle and full of passion, and lust. Harry felt so wanted as he never had in his life.

He flushed deeply as he caught himself coming back to the memory of last night. Malfoy made him come without even touching him. Merlin, it was so humiliating. Coming like a girl, just from his bloody nipples. But if felt so intense and so hot when Malfoy flicked the tip of his tongue over the hardened nubs, and then, when he took them in his mouth, gods, and sucked on them…

"Mr. Potter," a stern voice yanked him off his thoughts and he jumped in his chair as he realized McGonagall had caught him letting his mind wander. The whole class fell silent, apart from some quiet sneers and chuckles at his sudden confusion.

"Um, y-yes, professor?" Harry gulped.

"Maybe you care to share your thoughts with the rest of the class?" she asked.

Harry's heart stopped. Nope, definitely not.

"I'm sorry, professor. It won't happen again," he said, but McGonagall only raised her thin eyebrow in anticipation.

"By all means, Mr. Potter," she said. "We're all ears."

Harry gulped nervously "N-no, really, professor. It's nothing," he mumbled. "I got a bit distracted, is all."

McGonagall didn't look convinced and for a moment Harry thought she would force the answer out of him, but fortunately she sighed "Try not to get distracted when in my class, Mr. Potter. I would appreciate your attention on what we are doing if you want to pass this subject."

Harry nodded, apologizing silently.

Merlin, he had to get himself together.

As McGonagall continued the lecture, a small piece of parchment appeared in front of Harry. He quickly grabbed it and hid under his desk, where he slowly unfolded it.

He immediately recognized the handwriting.

What could distract the great Boy Who Lived so much, huh?

Harry turned his head and saw the smirk spreading on Malfoy's face. He was watching Harry with clear amusement.

The Gryffindor turned back and wrote down a quick answer.

Shut up.

He folded the parchment and send it to Malfoy. He glanced to the right to see if his friends had noticed anything, but thankfully, they were too busy with writing down whatever professor McGonagall was saying.

Seconds later another note reappeared on his desk.

You were thinking about last night, weren't you?

Harry's eyes widened as he read. He could hear the teasing tone of Malfoy's voice saying this with that stupid smirk on his face.

Bugger off, Malfoy.

That's not what you said when I made you come this morning.

Harry blushed furiously at the remark. Gods, he barely stopped himself from letting out a groan at the memory.

Malfoy!

Yes, say my name, Potter.

Oh fuck, come on!

Funny, that's exactly what you were moaning out a couple of hours ago.

In my bed.

This made Harry almost fall from his chair. He let out a choked sound, which he quickly turned into a fake cough to cover his reaction to Malfoy's words. He didn't manage to answer as another note appeared on his desk.

Oh, so you were thinking about last night.

Oh my god, Harry thought, desperation taking control over him.

Come on, admit it.

Giving up, his face burning from embarrassment, he grabbed his quill.

Yes. I was. Now bugger off, Malfoy.

Thinking about my cock in McGonagall's class? How very naughty of you, Potter.

Wha I wasn't!

Can't really blame you, can I, now?

Malfoy, just shut the bloody hell up.

Harry wrote, careful not to give away that he wasn't noting McGonagall's instructions, but doing something whole different.

He held his breath when the answer came seconds later.

I was thinking about it too.

Harry was looking at the piece of paper with his eyes wide open. Oh Merlin, he didn't…Oh gods, did Malfoy just…oh fuck. His heart started hammering as if it was ready to jump out of his chest any second.

With his hand shaking slightly, he wrote down one word.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Bloody hell, Malfoy was thinking about it too. That means Harry couldn't pretend any longer that it was just a dream or his imagination, but happened and both of them were…oh fuck.

Before he could stop himself from doing so, Harry scribbled a question.

What about?

His ears were burning in all the heat from embarrassment he felt as he sent the message, waiting impatiently for a reply.

About how you looked when you were writhing in my bed sheets.

"Oh my god," a shocked whisper escaped Harry's mouth before he managed to bite his tongue.

Unfortunately, his reaction was loud enough to be noticed by Hermione, who was sitting right next to him. She looked up from her parchment and glanced at Harry questioningly.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked.

All the heat from his face went to his crotch after the last reply he got from Malfoy and yet he knew his face was Gryffindor red. He tried to look innocent when he turned to Hermione.

"Er, nothing," he said. "I just remembered something stupid," he mumbled and came back to writing whatever McGonagall was talking about.

Hermione watched him for a moment before she shrugged dismissively and returned to her notes as well.

Following his friend, Harry tried to focus on professor McGonagall and on what she was explaining to the class, but he found it quite difficult. He'd just started writing down McGonagall's instructions when another note from Malfoy appeared in front of him.

Holding his breath, he discreetly unfolded the paper and read.

You liked that, didn't you, Potter?

His cheeks grew hot once more. Did he like it? Merlin, he bloody loved it. He was growing addicted to Malfoy's touch - but there was no way in hell he would tell him that. He had some bits of dignity left. Okay, so maybe he didn't, but no one needed to know that. Certainly not Malfoy. Although something was telling Harry that he already knew.

With a quiet sigh, he rest his head on his arm and once again tried to forget the silver eyes and focus on the lesson.

About half an hour later, when he was following Ron and Hermione out of the classroom, he didn't miss the satisfied smirk on Malfoy's face.