Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Characters or places mentioned in this fic. They belong to JK Rowling.
Warning: Male/Male sexuality and explicit language throughout
Author's Note: the next few will be a little short, for POV switches. But don't worry, it all makes sense.
Chapter 2
Draco walked away, cheeks flushed. Why was Weasley the only one who could get under his skin like that? He'd heard like sentiments everyday from other students, but every time Weasley said anything of the sort, it upset him.
As he made his way towards the Slytherin dungeons his thoughts lingered on Weasley. He wondered if the red head had taken his suggestion to heart. He could be in the Heads' dormitory by now, with his little mudblood. The thought of him with her awoke in Draco a feeling he had always associated with Pansy. It was a strange mixture of lust and jealousy. How could he possibly be jealous of Weasley? How could he be lusting after Granger? He couldn't even look at her without feeling half ashamed, half mortified. The events of that night in the Manor still haunted his dreams. Draco shook his head, as if that would get rid of the confusing jealousy, and headed into the deserted dormitory.
The next day in Potions, Draco couldn't help but watch the Gryffindor couple. He noticed things he wouldn't have normally, like how timidly they touched each other, the way he smiled warmly up at her, the way her hand instinctively rested in his hair when she stood over him, helping him. He wondered what that would be like, being in a stereotypically "cute" couple. He and Pansy had really just been lust and sex and obligation. They never really held hands or even talked. They were either shagging or they were fighting. The only emotions he ever felt towards Pansy were anger and lust, and occasionally jealousy. (She was a big fan of thinly veiled, albeit successful, stabs at making him jealous when they were "off-again.") Draco turned back to his cauldron, his mind buzzing with confusion. He shook his head again as if that would clear it and tried to focus on his Potion.
That night Draco walked absently through the castle, waiting for his house to fall asleep, so he would be safe in the dorms. Since term started, he'd taken to keeping longer hours, being the last to bed and the first to rise was taxing, but it was a matter of survival. More often than not, he napped in some corridor or in the Great Hall until the early hours of the morning, and then he went to his dormitory for an hour or two. He sat at the foot of a flight of stairs and figured that for tonight, they were good as anything.