Disclaimer: I don't own Harry or his associates. That pleasure still belongs to JKR.
A/N: This was posted at the same time as chapter one, as I wrote it while looking for a beta. Luckily I found the lovely Natalya and my unofficial beta Harry. Many thanks to them both for all their help.
Malfoy
By lunchtime, Harry felt drained.
He could feel the thought in his brain, nudging against the walls of his consciousness, but refused to acknowledge it. It was taking all of his strength, but he was determined.
He would not, he could not allow himself to acknowledge the thought that could throw his whole world out of balance. Draco Malfoy was his enemy.
He couldn't be having dreams about him. That was just so many levels of wrong.
Confused and not watching where he was going, Harry's feet carried him past the Great Hall, where the rest of the school were gathered for lunch, and out of the huge oak front doors.
Shivering in the frozen air, Harry thought briefly of going to visit Hagrid, but found himself turning in the opposite direction, towards the lake.
Reaching the shelter of the ancient elm tree that he, Hermione and Ron hung out under during the summer, Harry flung himself on the bare ground, leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, finally allowing the impossible thought to filter into his consciousness.
It was the memory of his dream, disjointed, but crystal clear, a flash of silver and his name whispered in a voice that sent shivers up his spine.
Suddenly he felt a ray of hope, that broke through the confusion in his brain.
Maybe it wasn't what he'd thought. After all, all he remembered was that silvery grey colour and a voice. There was absolutely nothing to show who the voice had belonged to, and the silver...could they have been eyes? He couldn't be sure.
But what about the incident at breakfast? A horribly accurate voice at the back of his mind piped up. Harry sighed. For a moment, a fleeting instant, he had known. With a crushing certainty, his mind had given him the obvious answer.
But could he believe it? Did he want to?
As the bell rang for the end of lunch, all Harry could think was how unfair it was that his own mind was playing games with him. As if his life wasn't difficult enough.
Draco was exhausted.
He had found it easy to act normally after his first lesson. History of Magic was always a good class to be in when he wanted to think.
He wanted Harry,he knew that. And a Malfoy always gets what they want. Harry would be his.
He had come to a decision. Now he needed a plan.
But first he needed to sleep. It was late and his previous night's wanderings were starting to get to him. He knew he'd need to be totally focused if he was to achieve his goal. Harry would be his.
He gave a small smirk at the thought. Leaving his chair in the almost deserted Slytherin common room, he stretched and made his way to his dorm.
His dream was waiting for him as soon as his head hit the pillow.
HPDM
He moaned, the intense flavours of vanilla and citrus exploding on his tongue, overloading his senses. He ran his tongue over a soft lip, and was rewarded with a soft moan as the lips parted, granting him entry. Eagerly, he slipped his tongue into the space, mapping every inch of the moist cavern beyond.
He could feel soft hands on his body, tracing the muscles of his back and carding through his hair.
Breaking the kiss, he looked down at the blonde trapped beneath him, the grey eyes wide and filled with pure lust, the pale lips pink and slightly swollen from the kiss.
Leaning over, he kissed those lips again softly, before raining kisses along the other's jawline and down the slender neck.
"Harry." The sighing whisper sent electrifying shocks through his body. He shifted slightly causing a delicious friction to run through him. He felt the blonde shudder beneath him.
"Harry." The sound of his name from those lips set his blood alight, and he bent his head again to capture them with his.
He was aware of the blonde's hands travelling down his body, exploring him. He moaned back.
"Draco"
Harry woke with a start, his heart racing.
Sitting up abruptly, he tried desperately to calm himself down enough to think. This new development threw him completely off balance.
He had hoped, before falling asleep that he would dream again, that his subconscious would shed some light on the true source of his confusion, but this...
He ran his hand through his messy hair, trying to suppress the memories that assailed him as he did so. Soft hands running through his hair, down his back, exploring him... He bit back a moan.
That was the other problem. Now that he could think, he was becoming very aware of the fact that he was aroused. By Malfoy. He thought again of those pale, perfect lips, those liquid mercury eyes and experienced a throb in his groin that made him bite his lip to keep from crying out.
This was wrong. This was Malfoy. His enemy.
His Malfoy. His Draco.
The words stole sinuously into his brain. They were intoxicating. They evoked physical and emotional responses that he hadn't known he was capable of, focusing his every thought to a single sharp point.
He wanted Draco. Draco was his.
He slid out of his bed and grabbed his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk. It was near dawn, and cold, but he was too preoccupied to think of covering his bare torso. Clad only in a pair of dark green pyjama bottoms, throwing the Cloak over his shoulders, he stole out of the dorm.
He was unclear as to his destination, but his bare feet turned him in the direction of the owlery. His entire body was humming with anticipation, so much so, that it barely occurred to him to ask why.
Draco shivered in the cold breeze from the unglazed windows.
He had dreamed again that night and had woken up restless, and now he had to think.
How on earth was he going to convince his arch-rival that he...what? He wanted Harry, certainly, but was that all?
His answer came immediately. No.
But what then? Love? Was he, could he be in love with the Gryffindor?
He wished he could find the answer to that question, but it continued to elude him as the sky changed from a velvet darkness to the soft grey of pre-dawn light.
Suddenly Draco turned, looking warily around the deserted owlery.
Unsettled he turned back to the window, and tried to get his thoughts back into order, but less than a second later he looked around again.
He could have sworn there was someone there. He could sense them, like a sound on the edge of hearing. He could feel himself being watched.
Disturbed, Draco headed for the door, wanting to get as far away from the mysterious presence as possible.
He was halfway across the room when he heard it. A sharp crunching noise, like breaking feathers,
and a low, familiar voice swearing.
He froze. His common sense was telling him to run as fast as he could out of the door, but he stayed.
Draco turned.
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A/N: It's always nice to review