A/N: I got such an overwhelmingly positive response to chapter four – thanks so much, everyone! Special thanks listed at the end of this chapter.

P.S. This fic hasn't had much action so far – that's about to change!

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Harry was just about to take off his school robes and jump into bed when he felt something rustling around in one of his pockets. Puzzled, he reached into his robes to withdraw a piece of crumpled paper. Smoothing it out, he read: "In the Hands of Beasts: Arguments in Favour of Centaur Land Holdings" in Hermione's neat, curly script.

Harry sat completely still for ten long seconds, and then smacked himself squarely in the middle of his forehead. Of course! The book for his History of Magic essay. Hermione had sensed that Harry was struggling to meet the deadline and had kindly written out the name of a very good reference book in the library.

Damn it! thought Harry, furiously. I was going to borrow that book before dinner, and I don't have much time until the essay is due.

Harry made up his mind there and then to go and get the book with the aid of his invisibility cloak. He groped around in his trunk for it, then shrunk it and tucked it into his pocket.

He walked down the stairs to the common room – luckily for him, Angelina and Mie both commanded the Gryffindor girls' attention, and the game of dare chess between Ron and Seamus had progressed to a mildly alarming, yet very hilarious, degree (Seamus, ever the extrovert, was humming striptease music as he saucily removed his trousers – Ron was looking absolutely mortified, Ginny had her fist stuffed in her mouth to stop from howling with laughter, and Neville had hidden his face in his hands with a terrified squeak.) If anyone saw Harry slip out of the portrait, no one commented.

Once in the hallway, Harry enlarged the invisibility cloak and wrapped it about him, and headed silently for the library.

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Draco couldn't sleep. His mind was a mess – full of endless conflicts. He constantly berated himself for his loss of composure during Transfiguration that morning, and warred against his weird new feelings concerning his sworn enemy, Harry Potter. He wondered if it meant that he was gay – and wondered if it was such a problem if he was gay. He wondered if his parents' fears had been justified. He wondered if he should have tried harder to become involved with girls. He wondered if Potter felt the same way about him, and wondered what he'd do if Potter didn't…and then wondered what he'd do if Potter did like him back…

Finally, too restless to succumb to slumber, he crept out of the Slytherin dungeons to prowl the halls in a futile effort to clear his mind.

He had been wandering for some time, and realised with a start that he was quite near to the library. Had he been so absorbed in his own thoughts? Draco frowned at himself. How much time had passed? He glanced at his watch.

10:35.

Draco stared. That was way past curfew, even for seventh years. And goodness knows, he didn't need to get a detention now – all of his time was required just to keep up with his school work.

And then the night got worse. A miaow echoed just around the corner.

Mrs Norris.

Filch.

Oh dear…

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Harry was nearing the library when he realised he wasn't the only night time wanderer. Soft, even footsteps echoed further down the corridor, drawing Harry's eyes as the walker came into sight.

It was Malfoy! What are the odds? Harry thought to himself. Malfoy was looking very preoccupied, and had just glanced at his watch when:

"Mrrrowwrrrr!"

… came floating down the corridor.

That sound could only mean one thing.

Filch was on patrol.

Harry watched as Malfoy stiffened with the realisation, his eyes widening, before he began to run soundlessly down the corridor. Without a second thought, Harry followed.

A muffled bellow behind them meant that Filch knew someone was there. Malfoy turned around in surprise, and then redoubled his pace, forcing Harry to exert himself to keep up with the fleeing blonde. But no matter how the two of them ran, it always seemed as though Filch were just behind them.

Malfoy's going to get caught, Harry began to realise, and that's a less welcome thought than it would have been a week ago.

Suddenly Harry realised that his surroundings were looking vaguely familiar.

That's it! They were approaching the Room of Requirement! Perfect…

Without a second thought, Harry whipped off his cloak and whispered, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy half-stumbled out of sheer shock, his expression one of surprise, quickly replaced with the usual haughty indignation and then frustration. "What on earth are you – "

Harry cut across him. "Malfoy, there's no time to talk. I've got a place where we can hide. Just stay there for a second!"

Saying so, Harry turned on his heel and began pacing back and forth in front of a patch of wall. I need somewhere we can hide, I need somewhere we can hide, I need somewhere we can hide…

As soon as the door popped into existence, Harry jerked open the door and dragged a very shocked Malfoy inside.

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As soon as they were inside the room, Malfoy rounded on Harry.

"Where the hell did you come from? And where the hell did that door come from, and what the hell room is this?" Malfoy hissed.

Harry felt more than a little annoyed. He had expected a little bit more in the way of thanks for saving Malfoy's skin, although in retrospect, Harry realised that he really shouldn't have had such high expectations.

"You're welcome," Harry replied sarcastically. "As for where we are… this is called the Room of Requirement."

"The room of what, Potter?"

"The Room of Requirement," Harry replied impatiently. "It's a room that comes into existence only when called. At the moment it's materialised as a small room fit for hiding us – it's what I called it into existence for. Filch shouldn't be able to find us here."

Malfoy looked a little bit mollified. "And?" Malfoy asked.

"And what?" said Harry, nonplussed.

"Where did you come from? I didn't notice you until a minute ago. Which of the seven hells did you stroll out from, Potter?"

Harry hesitated. He didn't want Malfoy to know about his invisibility cloak, so he settled for saying, "I was on my way to the library when Filch caught me out just like you and I ran for it. I guess you were just too focused on escaping Filch to notice my presence."

Malfoy didn't look entirely satisfied with Harry's answer, but miraculously let it drop. He looked around the room. It was quite small, but comfortable. There was a small fire roaring in a stone fireplace, and a thick rug and two armchairs with fat, round cushions.

Harry watched Malfoy's gaze sweep the room. "I'm surprised the room is the way it is," remarked Harry. "The last time I needed to hide from Filch it was just a broom cupboard. I guess we lucked out this time."

Malfoy regarded Harry for a silent moment, his face unreadable, before he gave Harry a small smile. "Well, Potter, thanks. I guess we're even now."

Huh? Oh, right, the quill…Harry smiled a little in return. "Yeah, I guess so."

Malfoy went and sat on the rug by the fire. "So… I guess we sit tight for a little while until Filch leaves."

"That's pretty much the plan." Harry went and sat on the rug, a bit further away. The silence began to stretch between them. Harry fished around for something to say.

"Hey – Malfoy," Harry began. "I wanted to say, er, sorry … about the other day."

"Hmmm?" Malfoy was vacantly staring into the merrily crackling fire.

"Sorry? You know, for the whole knocking-you-to-the-ground thing?"

Malfoy seemed to come back to earth. "Oh," he said, and turned away from Harry, although Harry fancied that he saw that the tips of Malfoy's ears had gone red. "That's okay – forget it. Shit happens, right?"

Harry hadn't expected it to be so pain-free. He was expecting something more along the lines of "Sorry? You will be sorry when my father hears about my injuries!" or something equally as obnoxious. To be honest, he had half-expected Draco to stick his slightly pointed nose in the air and march right out of the room, rather than endure confinement with a non-pure blooded wizard. Luckily, no such thing had occurred.

"So, uh, you didn't get hurt, or anything?" Harry persisted. "I mean, you did fall pretty hard."

Draco turned around to face Harry with a faraway look in his eyes. He gave Harry a sarcastic look and said, "Well, if it had been one of you delicate little Gryffindor pansies, it might have been serious. As it stands, however, I am fine, although I doubt that I escaped bruising."

Ahh, wonderful. Insulting Gryffindors. He must be back to normal. Although he has been pretty decent lately…Harry was struck with a sudden idea. "If you want, Malfoy, I've got an ointment for bruises with me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You carry that around with you? Get into a lot of punch-ups, do you?"

Harry looked nonplussed. "If you must know, it's for Quidditch. I don't get hit with bludgers that often, but it hurts like hell when I do, and it leaves the most stupid circular bruise and so Hermione put me onto this lotion. It makes all the soreness go away too." Harry looked at Draco for a long moment. "But if you want to tough it out, Malfoy, be my guest."

Malfoy paused, staring at Harry with an inscrutable look in his eyes…and then shrugged. "I might take you up on that, actually." And without further ado, he started pulling off his school jumper.

Harry almost choked with shock, but managed to turn it into a cough. Malfoy, undressing? Duh, Harry! Of course he'd have to undress for you to put the stuff on his back…but still…

Malfoy finished pulling off the jumper and looked at Harry with amusement. "You right there, Potter?

Harry tried desperately to stop the blush that was creeping into his cheeks. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. The fire's just burning a bit high, don't you think?"

"Whatever, Potter," said Malfoy, and took off his tie in one fluid motion and started to work on the buttons of his white school t-shirt.

Harry couldn't help but watch as fabric gave way to pale, toned skin turned gold by the flickering flames in the fireplace.

In fact, he got so wrapped up in looking at Malfoy that he totally forgot that he shouldn't be checking out Malfoy at all, and the next thing he knew, Malfoy was staring straight at him.

Harry panicked. Oh God! he thought. There's no way he missed that I was perving on him!

But Draco merely held Harry's gaze – his silver eyes seemed to burn with the reflected firelight – and very, very slowly he continued to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing himself until he shrugged the shirt off altogether, where it pooled on the floor behind him.

Harry stared. Once, a few years ago, he had been flipping through a muggle book on Ancient Greece when he had come across a number of rather well-proportioned, rather…er…bare statues. Harry was struck with the sudden thought that Draco looked a little like those ancient Greek sculptures – not nearly as muscled, perhaps, but so perfectly formed (and, Harry added as an afterthought, with trousers.)

Draco spun around to face away from Harry. "Okay, then, Doctor Potter, hit me with it, or whatever," said Draco, some of the former sarcastic drawl creeping back into his voice.

Oh, right, thought Harry. Bruises.

And sure enough, a collection of bruises were scattered across Draco's back. Somehow, the sight of those harsh marks on that pale, perfect skin made Harry sad. He felt as though something very beautiful had been ruined, as though someone had splattered black paint on a wedding dress.

Tentatively, Harry moved to sit behind Draco. "Yep, you've got a heap of bruises, alright. Hold still while I put the cream on, OK?"

Harry produced the jar from the pockets of his school robes and put some on his fingers. Slowly, he started applying it to Draco's back.

Draco let out a hiss of breath. "Oh geez, Malfoy, you okay?" Harry asked.

Malfoy was silent for a long moment, and then replied (in a rather constrained voice) "It's a bit sore, that's all. Just go carefully, Potter."

Harry started again, more carefully, gently rubbing the cream in circles over the bruises. Gradually they began to fade, and soon were gone entirely, leaving nothing but pale, flawlessly lovely skin.

Harry stopped rubbing the cream in, but didn't want to remove his hand. His fingertips burned where he'd touched Draco's skin, and he could feel his entire body start to heat up due to the sheer proximity of Draco's naked torso. When he thought of Draco's abs…Harry couldn't help it. He slowly trailed his fingers along Draco's back, snaking his arm around Draco's waist and finally bringing his hand and arm to rest against Draco's smooth stomach, and drawing the blonde boy towards him. Draco didn't resist.

Draco let out a shivery breath, and leant back against Harry, his head resting against Harry's shoulder, his face turned towards Harry's face.

There was a long silence as the boys regarded each other…and then slowly, Draco closed the distance between them and pressed a tentative kiss on Harry's lips.

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A/N: Ahhh, I know, what a dreadful cliff hanger! I will post the next chapter very soon, so you won't have to wait long! (Not like evil T.V. series producers who write a cliff hanger for the season finale and then leave you waiting around for six months! That is so evil!!)

First of all, let me say a massive thank-you to everyone who has reviewed. I got such a great response to Angelina and Mie in chapter 4. Special thanks to:

Konflickted – Yes, you hit upon the exact reason that I wrote Mie into the fic. I didn't want Harry to be totally alone in all of this; I just thought it would help a lot if he had someone who could gently nudge him in a positive direction.

Paramour Conspiracy – I'm really glad you like Angelina and Mie together! I agree, it would have been strange for Angelina to fall in love with a girl we already knew from the books – it would have seemed like a bit of a forced storyline… y'know? And yes, she also helps to push Harry in the direction we want him to follow :-D I'm really glad you like my fic! I suddenly feel motivated to work a lot harder on it .

LycanthaRose – I'm glad you like Mie! She's the sort of out-there crazy girl that I wish I had the courage to be! Currently, Mie doesn't make much of an appearance later in the fic, but after your comment, I really think I'd like to write her into the story again at a later date…

SwarmOfFanGirls – Yep, Harry's really starting to question his heterosexuality, and this will definitely be a major part of the next few chapters.

Kawanale – I love the Spice Girls! Actually, I wrote this chapter months ago, probably when I first heard that they had got back together. Somehow, Mie really fits Scary Spices crazy confident persona. In Angelina and Mie, I really wanted Harry to have someone he could ask for advice – in so many fics, Harry and Draco just go it alone and are left to face some really hard questions all by themselves, and there's never anyone who's been through the same thing who can advise them.

Thanks also to Hikari No Hi (another pretty Japanese name!) and to all of my readers who have taken the time to read Silver Eyes :-D

And thanks, as always, to Sparrowhawk…