A/n: Chapter 4 of 5 a.k.a. The Chapter You All Have Been Waiting Oh-So-Patiently For!

Warning: SLASH with a twist of LEMON!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

"There you are, Pansy. I've only been waiting for forty-five minutes! What took you so long?"

My mouth went dry at the sight of him.

Draco Malfoy stood leaning against a bedpost, his arms folded across his bare chest and the button of his linen trousers undone, carelessly exposing his green boxers. Shadows flickered across his pale skin like flames and I felt a stirring in that place between my legs that wasn't so unlike the stirring I normally felt.

I jumped as the door shut loudly behind me and then disappeared into the wall ominously.

"Umm…"

I ran my tongue over the inside of my teeth anxiously.

"I w- wanted to make sure I looked perfect for you, Draco."

He strode over to me, grabbing my hands as he stared into my eyes hungrily. A wolfish grin spread across his lips that were now so close to my own, I could practically taste them. His breath smelled faintly of cinnamon.

"And you do look perfect…"

With a slight tilt of his head, his mouth was on mine, my malleable lips forming against his and moving as he moved. My insides fluttered. His lips were soft. It was a lot like kissing Ginny, but about a billion times better because it felt right.

Malfoy pulled back.

"As perfect as you'll ever look…"

My dreamy smile faltered slightly, but I quickly recovered with an undeniably Pansy-esque giggle-snort. The real Pansy probably wouldn't have noticed the backhanded compliment. Or maybe she wouldn't have cared in this particular situation.

"Are you ready?"

His hands squeezed mine gently.

"Of course."

Malfoy led me further into the room with a charming smile and like a sheep to slaughter, I followed blindly.

XXX

The floating candles of Harry's imagination were nonexistent. The main source of sensual lighting for the room was an iron chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling and numerous artful sconces at regular intervals along each wall. The firmly rooted candles dripped red wax like blood as the flames flickered evilly and cast sinister shadows around the room. A fireplace took up most of the far wall, and before it, a snow white rug that had once served as the skin of some animal lay snarling. A mirror of massive proportions hung above the mantle in an ornate frame. Harry noticed that at that angle, the mirror would reflect the bed...

The bed... Harry's eyes followed the line of the mirror to the center of the room where a large four-poster bed stood alone. A canopy of gauzy black fabric draped over it gracefully, the sides tied back with black, velvet ribbons. The sheets weren't green, as Harry had expected they would be, but ivory satin. Harry swallowed thickly as he studied the downy-looking pillows from across the room. He wondered if he could get over having sex in a bed that reminded him of an oversize coffin.

"Champagne?"

Malfoy dropped Harry/Pansy's hand and gestured towards an uncorked bottle in a bucket of ice on a table near the door. The ice shifted noisily as he lifted the bottle and looked at Harry fervently. Two long-stemmed, crystal glasses appeared on the table beside the bucket as Malfoy's hand reached down, his eyes never leaving Harry's.

"Oh, I don't drink," Harry said by reflex with a dismissive wave.

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. He lifted the two glasses by the stems and held them dexterously between his long fingers and poured the shimmering liquid with ease, not spilling a drop. "That's not what I've heard…" He took a step forward and held one of the glasses out to Harry.

Harry stared at the glass with mounting apprehension. It didn't look particularly lethal, but for Harry, Malfoy might as well have been handing him a loaded gun. Among other things, Harry was cursed with an inconveniently low tolerance for alcohol. Just one shot of anything stronger than Butterbeer could have Harry dancing on tables in under five minutes.

"Well, I mean, I don't drink anymore… It's unladylike." Harry gave him an indignant sniff to show Malfoy just how serious he was.

The Slytherin's eyes flashed dangerously. "Please. I insist," he spat, trying to maintain his light tone and easy smile that might have fooled the real Pansy Parkinson, but not the more observant Harry Potter. And though Harry was loathe to admit, Malfoy looked particularly attractive in his ferocity with his jaw set and eyes flashing.

With a defeated sigh, Harry took the offered glass and held it tightly by the stem. He watched as bubbles rose happily from the curved bottom of the glass to the surface and then hopped up into a light fizz that tickled his nose.

"Cheers," Malfoy said stiffly, clinking his glass against Harry's and then putting his lips to the rim and wetting them, but not really taking a drink.

Harry watched him curiously before a thought came to his mind...

"The last thing I need is that bitch getting pregnant…"

"Contraception Potion," Harry muttered, frowning into the glass.

"Excuse me?"

He shook his head and looked back up at Malfoy, trying to make himself look as stupid and unsuspecting as possible. "I said 'Thanks for the champagne'." He grinned and then, with some hesitation, tossed back the glass and drank its contents in one swallow. His throat burned and he couldn't stop a painful grimace from forming on his face.

Malfoy chuckled patronizingly as he placed his still full glass on the table where it had first appeared. "Not used to the expensive stuff, are we, love," he said, gently taking the glass from Harry's hands and setting it next to his.

"No, guess not…" Harry croaked. His stomach fluttered as the potion-spiked champagne hit his gut full force.

"Don't worry about it," Malfoy cooed as he pulled Harry to him, firm body pressing against Harry's new feminine curves. His hands found their way to Harry's buttocks and rubbed, inching up his skirt a centimetre with each stroke. Harry flushed.

"You'll become accustomed to the finer things in time." Malfoy continued, unaware of Harry's embarrassment. He forced Harry closer to him roughly as his lips captured Harry's once again in their cinnamon-laced embrace.

Harry's humiliation faded. His eyelids fluttered closed. Bloody fucking Merlin, I'm snogging Draco Malfoy... His hands clutched Malfoy's neck. Winding his fingers in the feathery soft hairs at the nape, Harry twisted and pulled in his urgency to get closer, earning him a sharp nip on his bottom lip from a displeased Malfoy.

"Watch it, Parkinson," he snarled. "I've told you before, I have a sensitive scalp."

Spiritedly, Harry lunged forward again, ignoring Malfoy's complaint, and attacked his face before the deliciously vicious expression could fall from his lips. Their tongues twisted together nimbly, each fighting for control of the other's mouth. Malfoy won with another bite to Harry's lip that sent shivers down the Gryffindor's body and caused him to moan in the other boy's mouth and return the affectionate punishment to Malfoy's own lip.

Malfoy pulled away and held Harry close to him, his hands still cupping the boy/girl's arse. "That sweater looks familiar..." he mused, his eyes roaming from Harry's face to his chest where the fabric had slipped a little to show more of Harry's breasts than any female would be comfortable with. "If I remember, the Weaselette has one exactly like it."

Harry quickly masked his panicked expression with one of distaste. "Well, I got this one way before she got hers," he spat. "She copied me."

"Good thing too. She's got a bloody fantastic body. No sense in hiding it under her usual ill-fitting second hand garbage."

Malfoy leaned down to kiss Harry once more, but Harry turned his face away, shrinking in Malfoy's arms and suddenly painfully aware of the burning insistence with which Malfoy fondled his arse with experienced hands. Pig, Harry thought bitterly.

Hot lips brushed against Harry's cheek before traveling down his jawbone. "Something wrong, love?" Malfoy drawled. "I haven't offended you have I?"

"No," Harry whispered quietly, his body reacting to Malfoy's meaningless words in ways Harry wished it wouldn't. Pig or not, Harry's sex drive apparently didn't seem to care and that happened to be the only thing moving him at this point. If it weren't for Malfoy's arms holding him up and Harry's desire for the other boy's touch, he would have fallen to the floor ages ago.

"How careless of me," Malfoy went on as if he hadn't heard. He removed his hands from Harry's arse just long enough to pull the sweater off over the Gryffindor's head before Harry had the mind to stop him. The sweater fell to the ground at Harry's feet and he stared down at it. Well, he looked down with the intention of staring at it, but instead got distracted by the two glorious new additions to his chest.

Harry's hands flew to his breasts and took one in each hand, giving them each a little jiggle in turn. "Woah," he breathed, amazed at the sheer weight of them. He had no idea how girls could stand something so cumbersome jutting from their chests at all times, even if they got a girl some much needed attention from the opposite sex.

"No bra?" Malfoy sounded surprised, dubious, and annoyed all at once. A graceful eyebrow arched as he studied Harry's bare skin.

Harry wanted to smack himself in the face. How could he have forgotten the most important thing in a girl's wardrobe? Although, admittedly, it was hard for him, being a male and therefore having no use of the uncomfortable garment, to remember the existence of bras. Unfortunately, Malfoy remembered their existence, as he had had more experience in dealing with them.

Suddenly, Malfoy's face expanded into a mischievous grin. "I like it. Makes things go quicker, don't you think?"

Harry wasn't given the chance to respond. Malfoy's lips were on him again, exploring the delicate indentation at the base of his neck and rapidly moving downwards. Harry's hands clasped together around the back of Malfoy's head, careful not to pull his hair this time. He didn't want the other boy to stop for anything.

"Ahh!" Harry gasped as his back arched, pitching his chest forward into Malfoy's face. He could feel the smirk against his bare skin as the Slytherin flicked his tongue across Harry's pert nipple again before sucking it into his mouth with another groan from Harry.

Malfoy's hands traveled down Harry's sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He paused and gripped Harry's hips to still them. Harry hadn't even realized he had been bucking into Malfoy, but stopped at the sudden touch with a brief blush of shame.

Harry felt Malfoy slip his impatient fingers into the waistband of his skirt and took a step back. Malfoy stared at him questioningly. His lips parted to speak, but Harry silenced him with an impish smile of his own as his fingers moved to unzip the hidden zipper in the side of the skirt. The skirt slipped from his body and fell to the floor in a puddle beside the discarded sweater.

"No bra and mens' underwear... My, my, my, aren't we the little exhibitionist?" Malfoy remarked casually enough, but Harry could tell that he knew something was definitely amiss. Harry's heart skipped a beat. He could only hope that the thought of someone impersonating Pansy with a Polyjuice Potion was the farthest thing from Malfoy's mind.

Harry looked down at his white and red briefs as best as he could from around his seemingly massive breasts. He was shocked to see a perfectly flat front, the evidence of his arousal invisible in this new body. Shrugging, he looked meekly at Malfoy from under his lashes and gave him a sly smile. "I think it gives me a certain edge," he remarked offhandedly. "More of an... enigmatic air."

Malfoy stared at him skeptically. "Such big words you use! Are you sure you're feeling well?" He placed a cool hand against the fevered skin of Harry's inner thigh.

Harry spread his legs slightly, and then, without thinking, covered Malfoy's hand with his own. "You tell me," he breathed as huskily as he could manage with Pansy's supersonic voice. He slid Malfoy's hand up to the cotton crotch of his briefs and pressed down, confused but satisfied by the feeling the pressure gave him.

With a growl, Malfoy pushed Harry backwards. The backs of his knees hit the edge of the casket-like bed and buckled, making Harry fall to the plush comforter with a surprised grunt.

"Ah, fuck, Pansy," the Slytherin said maliciously, giving the caught zipper of his pants a jerk. The fabric ripped and the zipper flew loose. "Fuck!" Malfoy shouted again, except this time, Harry was relatively sure the expletive was directed at his pants. Harry wasted no time in eagerly helping the blonde out of his ruined trousers and tossing them across the room to discourage Malfoy from putting them back on.

And then came the moment Harry had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. In each sweating hand, he gripped a handful of the ivory comforter. His eyes trained on the crotch of Malfoy's Slytherin green boxers from which would spring the answer to Harry's dilemma in just a few short moments.

"Get on your knees," Malfoy commanded and Harry complied eagerly. He fell to his knees as Malfoy walked around him until he stood before Harry with his back to the bed. A quick nudge of Malfoy's thumbs against the elastic band of his boxers and the fabric slid down his legs, his arousal right at level with Harry's face.

A sensation rolled through Harry as he ogled Malfoy's half-hard member and he could have sworn he felt the stirrings of a phantom dick in his briefs, as strange at that seemed. Point proven... Harry thought to whatever Fates might be laughing at him at that moment.

"Well, don't just stare at it." Malfoy sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his hands planted on either side of him and scowled down at Harry.

"Oh," Harry muttered stupidly before taking the other boy into his mouth. But once it was in there, what was he supposed to do? It was too late to spit it out now. He tried to remember what Lavender had told Hermione once when she thought no one was listening to their conversation.

"You suck on the head lightly at first."

"Just the head?"

"Mmhmm, and then you work your way down until you can't take any more. But I don't have to worry about that; Ron is so small..."

"Damn, P-Parkinson... Is even p-possible y-you've gotten worse at g-g-giving head?" Malfoy said between ragged breaths.

Harry glared up at him and took him in further, increasing the suction around Malfoy's swelling dick and bobbing his head. The blonde gasped and lifted up off the bed, shoving himself into Harry's awaiting mouth. He bit his bottom lip to keep a cry from escaping, drawing blood. Harry moaned at the sight, the noise sending heavenly vibrations up Malfoy's length.

"Pansy, I'm gonna..."

Harry's head bobbed faster and Malfoy came hard with a groan into the Gryffindor's mouth. Harry swallowed every drop, trying not to gag and trying to look pretty while doing it, which was difficult enough to begin with considering what he had to work with was the face of Pansy Parkinson.

The satisfied Slytherin fell backwards on the bed with a contented sigh. A hand reached up to swipe at the blood on his chin then fell back to his side as if the movement had exhausted him.

After a moment of consideration, Harry crawled his way up Malfoy's sweat-slicked body, leaving soft kisses along his torso from his navel to his neck. His breasts pressed uncomfortably against Malfoy's toned chest, but Harry refused to re-situate himself out of fear that Malfoy would push him off. Harry could feel Malfoy's dick against his inner thigh and, taking the chance, rubbed it against his skin with a keening noise.

Malfoy, instantly hard again, smiled down at Harry. "Since when do you swallow?"

In response, Harry bit down on his pale collarbone and sucked, delighting in the little shiver that ran through Malfoy's body. "I'm full of surprises, Draco," he mumbled against the blonde's skin.

"Indeed you are..."

Malfoy wrapped his arms around Harry tightly and rolled so that Harry was now on his back, and the other boy was hovering over him and staring at him intently. Harry strained his neck to reach Malfoy's lips but was stopped by a disgusted frown from the latter. "You should have thought about that before you swallowed, love," he said, smirking.

Harry huffed indignantly, but couldn't stay disappointed for very long. Malfoy's nimble fingers ran down Harry's stomach towards his underwear. There was a brief moment of panic where Harry could have sworn that his own throbbing dick would pop out as soon as Malfoy touched the lightweight cotton. But it didn't and Malfoy slid his briefs down without incident and threw them over his shoulder.

Harry learned two very important things as he stared down at his crotch in horror:

The first was that Pansy didn't shave.

And the second was that he, Harry James Potter, was most definitely gay and there were no doubts about it.

"Are you ready?" Malfoy asked quietly.

Harry's eyes flew to the boy who was staring down at him lustfully and at his prick, which was poised to enter a hole Harry was entirely unfamiliar with and therefore uncomfortable using. The apparent sincerity with which Malfoy posed the question almost made Harry forget that he had been such a git earlier.

"Since I'm in the mood for giving surprises," Harry began, his voice trembling. "How about going lower..."

Malfoy's eyebrows bunched, first, confused by his partner speaking at all when Pansy usually just grabbed him by the arse and shoved him in without giving an answer. And then the meaning of the second thing Harry had said hit him and his eyes widened.

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "Positive."

A sudden movement at the head of the bed caught the attention of both boys and Malfoy lunged forward to a table that had appeared next to the bed, almost kneeing Harry in the face. Harry craned his neck to see (and to avoid flying limbs) what had gotten Malfoy so excited.

Malfoy twisted the cap of the small bottle of lube he now held in his hand and straddled Harry again. The cap flew from his fingers with a flick of his wrist and hit the wall behind him. "I fucking love this room..." he muttered with a smile and a shake of his head as he applied a generous amount of lube to his member, then threw the bottle in the same general direction as the cap.

"Flip over."

"No."

Malfoy frowned at him, his cobalt gray eyes narrowing in confusion.

"I want to look at you while we-"

"Fine," Malfoy interrupted sharply.

He lifted Harry's legs, bending them at the knees and positioned himself at Harry's entrance, pressing lightly. He smiled as Harry's breathing sped in anticipation.

"Oh, Merlin, just do it!" Harry groaned, gripping the comforter for dear life and squeezing his eyes shut.

Malfoy appeased the squirming Gryffindor by forcing himself roughly into Harry's warmth with a groan as the tight ring of muscles constricted around his manhood.

Tears eked out the corners of Harry's eyes. The feeling of having something so large inside him was foreign and painful. A whimper escaped his pursed lips that begged Malfoy to keep still.

Mercifully, Malfoy remained motionless, waiting for Harry to get comfortable. He said nothing, just stared down his partner with lust-filled eyes. After a few moments, he began to thrust into Harry at an agonizingly slow pace, his hands on the boy/girl's hips to help bring him as far out as possible and then ease back in teasingly.

Harry winced and opened his eyes, turning his head so he could watch the pair writhe together in the mirror, Pansy's creamy white skin paling in comparison to the shocking luminescence that was Draco Malfoy. With his eyes, Harry traced the finely toned muscles of Malfoy's back and the curve of his firm arse as it moved against Harry rhythmically. He was beautifully angelic, even in the throes of passion with an almost sneer gracing his lips and a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his brow. Harry wondered how it was that he had known this glorious boy for almost eight years and not once had he realized how undeniably handsome he was. Malfoy hit a particularly sensitive spot and Harry let out a moan, watching and loving the way his partner fucked him slowly.

"I'm not stopping..." Malfoy warned through clenched teeth.

Harry turned away from the mirror. "I don't want you to stop." He released his death-grip on the comforter and held onto Malfoy instead, lifting himself up off the bed and pressing the two closer together, his nails digging into the skin on the other's back. "I want you to go faster," he whispered seductively in the blonde's ear.

Malfoy obliged and began to pump into Harry with abandon, taking his weeks of pent up sexual frustration out on Harry's virgin arsehole. He gasped as Harry bit down hard on his neck, then released the reddened skin with a hiss.

"Fuck yes, Draco!"

As the sibilant sound snaked past Harry's lips, the hot air leaving trails of fire on Malfoy's glistening skin, he climaxed, moaning as he felt Harry's arse grip his cock.

"HARRY!" Malfoy screamed, before collapsing on the confused boy/girl underneath him.

a/n 2: Keep an open mind. Though Harry looks like Pansy, his thoughts and feelings are still his own. So it doesn't really matter what body he's in when Malfoy shags him. All that matters is if he likes it or not…

Review please, and next week you'll be rewarded!