Chapter three

a/n- This chapter kind of establishes tension and sets up Draco, (who by the way I would appreciate input on. Did I make the character too mean?)

Author is also aware that Marcus Belbey has most probably graduated and that Harry gave up care of Magical Creatures.

Draco Malfoy was many things; he was assertive, self confident and more than a little intelligent, among many things he at least knew enough to know when he was being fucked with which he most certainly was. Either that or Potter had finally lost his magically addled mind.

Thunk. The tiny ball in his hand knocked off of his wooden bedpost. In the bed next to him he heard Theodore Nott stir, annoyed but not quite awake enough to be assed into saying anything. Draco lay flat on his back, his hangings loose about him, still fully clothed. Why? Because he was annoyed, unsettled and maybe a little anxious. Not enough to force any stressed or unusual sentence out of him in the common room. That would have been foolish, but now that he was alone he found his thoughts were troubled because what in the bloody hell had that been? How long had Potter been around the bend? Thunk. Because he was. Potter had watched him all day relentlessly as though hoping to catch him in some illegal act. What could they be planning now? Why did they feel the need to watch him, Thunk, as though he cared what stupid Gryffindor cock up they were planning. Thunk. But Potter hadn't just been watching him in the library. Draco felt his cheeks glow. Potter had looked more like he was mentally undressing him than anything. Thunk, Thunk, Thunk. He attempted to convey his sudden embarrassment into the ball against his headboard.

To the left of him as though muffled through a mouth of sheets, "Hey Malfoy?"

Malfoy paused, ball in hand. He noticed even in the dark that it shook slightly. "What do you want Theo?"

"Would you quit bouncing that fucking ball?"

Draco sneered.

0-0-0

Breakfast that morning could not have been subdued under the influence of magic. The Quiddich schedule had finally been made public and the Gryffindor Vs. Slytherin match was poised to fill the first weekend of November with a sense of hatred no matter what the outcome of the game. From his place at the Slytherin table, Draco was only actively aware of one thing, that the match was a full three weeks sooner this year that it had been the year before. A coincidence? His eyes sought the Gryffindor table and a pair of green eyes that were already facing his seat. He thought not.

"Oh Draco, I simply know that you'll win this year." Pansy simpered, biting off her toast in what she hoped passed as easy elegance. Draco ignored her and poured his coffee feeling as though the forces around him were conspiring. He noticed Granger bending over to whisper something to Potter, who nodded, his green eyes still turned toward Draco. "You would have won it last year of course, if the Gryffindors hadn't cheated something awful during and after the match. I can hardly believe McGonagall is letting him play again this year."

Draco shrugged lightly. By him she meant Potter and by surprised she meant angry. This was a subject he normally might have joined eagerly if he hadn't been so busy trying to watch the golden boy over Pansy's shoulder. "Malfoy!" He jumped a little in his seat and wheeled about to face Marcus Belbey the Slytherin team captain who had wormed his way down the table. He was clutching the written copy of the games in one of his wide top hat hands. He was looking at him expectantly and Malfoy detested the smugness of it.

"I've heard." He noted dryly, noting that Belbey had yet to present him with the paper. "I wonder what kind of dealing the Gryffindors had to do to get a game before we could even properly form a team?"

Belbey chuckled at that. "Well Potter's the new captain, we all know what kind of connections he's got."

Draco attempted to avoid this. An anger was beginning to ignite. Could this be what they were planning? To throw him off guard and snatch the game for the fifth year in a row? How juvenile really…

"Oh Draco, does it matter that much?" Pansy was looking at him now with a measure of concern.

Sneering he attempted to regain some recognizable facial fixture. "Please Pansy."

But it did matter. It mattered in Herbology when Millicent, shocked by a fanged plants swipe at her bottom attempted to beat the living piss out of it. He could hardly even bring himself to smile when Neville Longbottom tripped and slid down the mud strewn lawn toward Hagrid's hut and it especially mattered when Harry himself was more than once during Hagrid's lecture more interested in Draco's doings than that of the large spider like creatures being shown. He sat on his cloak on the grass underneath the apple tree near the spider's fencing with his hood drawn looking sulky, green eyes methodically swishing over to check that Malfoy had not moved. During the middle of the lesson it began to rain and Potter lifted up his cold damp hands and wiped them on his cloak the way an elementary student might on his trousers. Draco had to quell the urge to scream.

As the rain picked up the students pushed closer around the tree, some of them glaring at Hagrid who seemed oblivious and therefore unlikely to call the lesson short. Draco found himself jostled closer as the lesson continued until he was behind him. Draco took a moment to look at Potter's hair, made frightful by the wind and water. It was the kind that was probably softer than it looked. Hermione Granger sat down softly by Harry's side and immediately started in, "Are you cold Harry, you still look sick."

Draco winced when Hermione tucked a lock of Potter's rain soaked hair behind his ear. A heat came up in Draco's neck because Harry wasn't sick. He had been just fine the night before when he was harassing him. Before he knew what he was doing he had kicked the sitting boy, hissing, "Who did you have to bugger to get that game in Potter?"

Potter and Granger both turned to stare at him; Hermione looked angry but Harry was unreadable. He blinked slowly and then asked, "What are you talking about Malfoy."

"I'm talking about your early season Quidditch match." He sneered, "What, did you think you could just sneak it in there and catch us before we started training?" Harry blinked again, his eyes going over a bit hazy. Surely Potter wouldn't stare at him here? "I'm going to catch that snitch Potter-" he snarled, aware that people were beginning to stare at him, "No matter what you do to throw me off."

0-0-0

"Where are you going Draco?"

Draco was walking purposefully towards the library and having Pansy follow him did not much suit his taste. "I'm going to go do a paper Pans, I'll be back later."

Pansy, who had leapt off of the couch when she spotted him moving finally intercepted him. "Do you want me to come with you?" She leaned into him and he took it to mean that she had no intention of helping him with his homework. As if she could, he thought idly, fingering the cuff of his shirt.

"Not now Pansy, I've got a whole roll to write for Snape that's due tomorrow."

"Oh," she pouted, looking pathetically dejected, "are you sure it's not Potter?"

Draco froze and he felt his lip curl automatically. "What does Potter have to do with anything?"

Pansy flinched back a little. "I don't know, it just seems like he's really been getting to you lately."

"Well he's not-" he looked at the incredulous look on Pansy's face and snatched her wrist, dragging her after him, spitting out, "Come on."

She stumbled a little in surprise but Draco didn't slow at all, he let go of her wrist only as she was able to match his pace. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know, does it matter?" he snapped, working his way across the great hall, already regretting his rash decision to take her along. What did he have to prove anyway? Nothing concerning Potter.

"Draco slow down!" Pansy panted, trying to catch his hand, "I promise you'll have time to finish your paper." He slowed to a stop, a small scowl crawling across his features as she pet her hands on either side of his waist. He needed drastically to relax, the entire day had left him exhausted. She attempted to push him back against the bookshelf behind him and after a moments resistance Draco let her.

It wasn't that he wanted Pansy, or her body. It wasn't that he even really liked her. It was sheer convenience he supposed. She placed a rather desperate kiss on his neck and he reluctantly let his bag drop from his shoulder to the floor. "Just- be fast Pansy." He did not relish the idea of anyone happening upon them.

Her lips slunk up his neck and to his lips faster than Potter could catch a snitch. He winced at the metaphor and the way Pansy's hands we pulling on his hair. He reached up and yanked them away from his face, pushing them lower towards his pants. Thankfully she took the hint, busying herself with his belt. He closed his eyes and really did lean back against the bookshelf, attempting to banish Potter completely from his mind. The lonely part of the library he had led them to was silent but for the sound of his zipper being undone and his own uneven breathing. Pansy made a sound as she slid to her knees, perhaps to help Draco along which was why Draco did not hear the soft sound of feet on the floor near the entrance.

He bit his lip as Pansy took his erection in her hands and stroking him perhaps harder then was necessary. He pushed up with his hips a little and could not find the friction his body craved. "Pansy?," he tried to pull himself out of her hands, "Use your mouth for fuck's sake."

She did and he pressed his head against the wooden shelf willing the aggression he had felt since the night before to leave him. He was only feet away from the spot he had run into Potter. Fucking Potter and his wandering eyes. He wondered for a second how he would have reacted if Potter had attempted to do to him what Pansy was now doing . He felt himself repress a shiver. Fucking wrong.

"Hermione, please, just let me be."

Draco's eyes snapped open, he heard Pansy gag slightly as he jerked forward. Was he hallucinating?

"Harry, please, just let me say this."

There were footsteps as Potter passed their corner, Granger following him. They walked past the shelf and Draco felt Harry run a hand over the wood of the support he was leaning on. Directly behind him, Harry Potter was leaning on the opposite side of the wall of books. Draco pushed at Pansy's head, mouthing wordless profanities.

Pansy rolled her eyes, pulling on his thigh to bring him back. Breathing heavily and feeling more than a little caught he hissed, "Pansy stop-" Potter leaned against the self and Draco felt the books move. "Fuck!"

Pansy stopped and listened as Draco made to fix his pants. Pansy's hand caught his wrist. "They can't hear us Dray-"

Draco started at her with a mix of barely hidden horror and panic. Behind him Harry sighed. "Hermione, listen, you know I would do anything for you guys right," Hermione sniffled, "It's just things are so different now."

"How are they different?"

"I don't know they just are." Potter voice had dipped to a low bedroom soft. The room around Malfoy suddenly seemed very cold, Draco shivered. He could feel Potter shift nervously as the books he touched pushed into Draco's shoulders. Potter let out a small moan of frustration and Draco realized he was choking back his own moan. The position he was in was dazzlingly perverse. He was quite literally standing a foot a way from Potter with his pants down while Potter seemed to be having a rare and heartfelt argument with Granger. He was surprised to find Pansy's eyes on his face. She seemed to be confused. Draco scowled and pulled her back toward him. She caught his eye for a moment before parting her lips and resuming the motion that had only moments before failed to inspire him to any real degree. He gasped a little as her mouth enclosed around him fully. "I'm just so-"

"What Harry?"

"I dunno, things just feel kind of different lately." Between Pansy's bobbing head and Potter pressing himself into the shelf Draco was biting his lip to keep his breathing from being as loud as it felt. "Like I can't control my-" Draco's fingers dug into the wood. Pansy made a slow wet sound as Draco thrust up a little.

"Control your what Harry? You know we can help you, if you're feeling like you're alone."

Harry breathed out through his nose in agitation, pressing himself back and correspondingly into Draco. His voice dropped even lower, to a near whisper, which was unfortunate because of the sounds that Draco found he was no longer able to smother behind his lips. "Hermione, I love you and Ron. Whatever this is you know it's going to pass." Potters voice was inches from his ear it was rising goosebumps on his skin. He tipped his head back, trying to regain composure. It was his fucking voice. "It's just these N.E.W.T classes and Malfoy and-"

Draco's head snapped back and collided against the wooden rim. "What was that?" Hermione asked and Draco felt his face warm. Or perhaps it already was warm.

Somewhere behind him Potter muttered, "It doesn't matter."

Pansy had paused, Draco pulled hard on her arm and she resumed the tedious process of jerking him off.

"Harry, please. If something's wrong. If Malfoy's done something."

Draco realized he was now actively attempting to hear their conversation. "Malfoy's fine-" Harry sounded as though he were attempting to evade the conversation. Malfoy felt his pulse quicken at the mention of his name, his brain beginning to fail him. He wished Potter would say his name again, he could feel a tightening in his navel. "Malfoy's just- you know Malfoy." He could see Potter speaking in his imagination.

Draco whimpered, pulling a stray lock of Pansy's hair somewhat aggressively. "nyeah just-"

"What was he talking about this morning?"

Harry sighed and shuffled, "I don't even know, It's just."

Malfoy pressed his face into his arm as he came, the sound he made covered up by a scuffling sound on the other side of the books. Hermione and Harry were hugging and Draco couldn't even feel enough of his extremities to mock them. Pansy swallowed and looked up at him, that uncomfortable look was back as Draco slumped a little, panting shallowly.

"Come on Harry, I have my book."

There was sound, Hermione lifted a book out from between all of the others and then footsteps away from them. Pansy was still kneeling. She raised an eyebrow as Draco zipped himself. "That was- um, kind of-"

Draco cut her off, "Get up."

0-0-0

It would have been a harmless dalliance if he could have forgotten about it, but Potter made that nearly impossible. Having ditched Pansy as he checked his books he returned on his way back to the dungeon and realized that beyond the guilt he should feel for allowing his enemies vocal capacity to turn him on to the point of pain, the real harm was that Harry was going to spend the next day staring at him. He tried telling himself it wasn't his fault, after all, hadn't he already been in action before Potter had even shown up? As he lay down to sleep that night he shivered as he thought of the tickling way Potters voice had made his blood rush to his ears. An anger once again curled into his guts like thread. This was what Potter wanted. This was precisely why Potter couldn't take his eyes off of him. Burying his face in his sheets, eyes red with rage and actual shame, Draco shook slightly. He had never hated Potter so much, never needed to win so desperately.