A/N: Sorry for the wait, everyone. I got grounded, which kind of made it a bit hard to get online. But I'm updating this as soon as I can. Hopefully, you shall find this chapter adequate enough. I dedicate it to Shinosuke who tried to help me with a fun, short scene in here. What I wrote doesn't do justice to his lovely pieces of...advice. Now go read his fanfic Falling like good Yaoi fangirls. ^_^

Harry was curled up into a ball, asleep. His chest slowly rose and fell, and there was a small smile on his lips. I should have been asleep myself, but I couldn't stop thinking about the whole matter with Blaise. I wasn't planning to confront Blaise or anything as drastic as that, but I wished there was some way to break his stubbornness.I knew how much he would regret it if anything everhappened to Thomas. That was from an experience I wish I could erase. How many things had I wished I could take back while Harry was in the hospital? And that had even ended well. What would I have done if Harry had – I cut of f the thought and swallowed roughly.

And then there was the whole matter of what Harry had said yesterday when he had clutched my shoulder and sobbed into them. His fear was infectious, and I too had rambled on ridiculously. Yet his words kept on playing over and over in my mind. It was true that what we were doing was dangerous. Everything had been getting worse recently. The newspapers headlined more deaths than usual according to Granger. It was only a matter of time before the Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban. And after that, Hogwarts wouldn't be safe anymore, even with Dumbledore here to protect us. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

'This is what happens when you date the Chosen One,' my mind quipped. Before I could stop myself, I snorted. Freezing, I stared at Harry, afraid I had woken him, but he remained as calm as always. My body relaxed and I lightly traced the scars on his face.

"Mm, Draco," he mumbled, leaning into my hand.

"Harry?" He didn't say anything else and continued to lie there peacefully, eyes closed. So, he had been simply talking in his sleep. It made my lips unwillingly twitch into a smile and my heart warm a little. But then thoughts of his dramatic speech crashed down again, and a scowl overtook my face.

It was so typical of him to put my safety over his. He was the one who was supposed to take the Dark Lord. I stared at the lightning bolt-shaped scar wishing anyone else could have it. Why did it have to be Harry? Out of the whole wide world, why was it him? Why not Weasley? Why not Longbottom?I wasn't sure if the thought of the fate of the world resting in Longbottom's hands make me want to laugh or cry. It was just so incredibly absurd.

No, it was Harry who had to take all the pressure. Everyone expected him to stop the Dark Lord. He was only fifteen, for Salazar's sake! He was still a teenager. His biggest worry should've been acing his O., not the survival of the world. He deserved to live. Anyone whose child was killed at fifteen would insist that he had been robbed of a life. Yet they wanted Harry to face the evilest wizard of all time? What would happen when Harry and the Dark Lord were thrown together to face each other all alone?

No, he wouldn't be alone. I'd face the Dark Lord with him. Fuck my life. I had no clue what I'd do without Harry. As hard as it was to admit it, even to myself, Harry was my life now. No one could ever be the same. It would be a crime to live with anyone else. To me, love only existed when it involved him. If the Dark Lord killed him, I would rather chose the cliché and end my life as well. And if there was any chance of me saving him, I was willing to risk everything. I'd be Vera and throw my own blood-stained knife to say it was his.

I groaned and rubbed my temples. Apparently, at four in the morning, my mind was at its most morbid and sappy. Harry looked so peaceful lying here that I half expected to see him clutching a stuffed animal. As if to prove me wrong, Harry's smile disappeared and his eyebrows furrowed together. His hand grabbed the sheets and he muttered something too quietly and incoherently for me to tell what it was. Still, he didn't wake up. He just lay there, and started to move a little bit. I was beginning to get concerned. It was obvious he was having a nightmare, but would it be stupid to wake him just because of that?

As I lay there trying to figure out whether or not to nudge him, Harry started screaming. "Harry? Harry!" I nudged him slightly but he didn't wake.

"Merlin, what the hell's going on," I heard Weasley groan. There were the sounds of creaking floorboards, and I shook him more frantically. Finally Harry's screams subsided into whimpers, and his eyes shot open.

"It's okay. It was just some nightmare. You're alright." My hands pulled through his hair and Weasley flung open the curtain. Harry's hand flew to his scar, and his breaths became shallow and fast.

"You alright, mate? Oh, his scar's hurting!"

"Really, bravo, I hadn't noticed. Now shut up." I continued to smooth down his hair and I gently pressed my lips against his. His muffled whimper vibrated into my lips. When I pulled back, his hand dropped down into his lap, and he looked at me with fearful eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I can usual tell what's going on. But with this dream, it was so unclear. I – It was foggy, kind of. It was like trying to listen to a conversation through a thick, closed door." He shook his head and winced. I pressed my lips to his cheek and held him tightly. He leaned into my lap and I noticed Weasley shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"What do you mean? What did you see?"Ron asked as if this were a regular occurrence.

"I don't know!" Harry's voice choked and he slammed his fists down onto the bed angrily. "I couldn't even really tell what Voldemort was saying – not most of the time, at least." What had exactly happened? Did he have these dreams often? Weasley didn't seem too concerned.

"Wait, wait, you saw the Dark Lord?"

"I can sometimes tell what he's done or doing from a dream. I just see him. It's never been this blurry though. There was really only one thing I could make out." He suddenly sobbed and lunged at my lips. Our teeth clashed, and his tears dripped down, salt mingling with the vanilla. I pulled back, afraid of what was wrong with him.

"Harry?" Weasley asked cautiously.

"He wants something to do –" Harry looked at me and shook his head wildly. "– with you. " My arms felt like lead, and my head buzzed. I couldn't breathe. In fact, the only thing I could do was stare at him.

"Me?" My voice was small and squeaky.

"What would he want with Malfoy?" Weasley asked, sounding a good deal less concerned than common courtesy should have let him.

"I don't know! I couldn't hear him or understand him. It was like someone was covering my ears most of the time. I just couldn't make it out," Harry rambled, sounding utterly frantic. He paused, and then added, his voice angrier, "What the fuck do you think they want?" His entire body trembled, and Weasley stared at him through wide eyes, as if he had never seen Harry so torn up about something. He probably hadn't.

It took a moment for me to gather my thoughts. They had scattered in all directions at the mention of the Dark Lord. It was one thing for me to think about it, but if he was having nightmares, and they obviously meant something. How long would we last if he actually went after us right now? Somehow I managed to quickly regain my composure, although inside I still felt hallowed out. My heart must have turned to wood and forgotten how to beat. Still, Harry looked hysterical enough for the both of us. I had to try to seem like my normal self, otherwise he would completely lose it. The only good thing was that I was practically trained to hide my emotions behind scoffs, lies, and jokes – recently, I hadn't been as good at it, though.

"They're probably just concerned about my grades. Recently, I've been lacking in Transfiguration, you know."It was a pathetic attempt to try and hide behind a feeble joke. My voice wavered, and neither Weasley nor Harry looked any more appeased.

"This isn't funny, Draco. They're going to ki –" Harry's fists clenched, and he started to sob. The noise echoed around the room, and I grabbed his hand, trying to soothe him.

"Okay, I understand. It isn't funny. Please, just calm down." I was beginning to get worried. There was the sound of footsteps, and Thomas and Blaise appeared. Both looked tired, but while Thomas actually seemed concerned, Blaise was simply irritated.

"What the fuck is going on? I'm trying to sleep," Blaise muttered. He rubbed his eyes groggily and yawned as if to emphasise.

"You're not helpful. Go away," I shot back. Harry's sobs weren't subsiding, so I focused my attention back on him. "Harry, come on, calm down. It was only a dream."

"Blimey, he's gone mental," Weasley muttered as Harry rubbed his eyes and took an unsteady breath.

"Again, you're being distinctly unhelpful." Harry's eyes looked darker and clouded over. He took an unusually steady breath and exhaled in pain. Just when it looked like Harry was going to calm down, he broke down again.

"Bloody hell, I've never seen him like this. Harry, mate, get a grip," Weasley said, grabbing Harry's wrist. Unsurprisingly, Harry shook him off.

"Get a grip? Are you honestly telling me to get a fucking grip?" he yelled. Even I had never seen Harry so scarily unstable. And he was just getting worse and worse… "Voldemort's out there trying to kill Draco!" I heard a few groans around the room from others, probably annoyed by Harry for waking them up.

"No one's going to kill me. We'll be okay, I swear." I didn't believe what I said, and I was starting to feel shaky, almost as if I'd throw up. If Harry was right, and he really was out there planning to kill me or Gods know what, I didn't know what I was going to do. I couldn't hide behind Hogwarts walls forever. But I just took another breath to try to calm myself; if I lost it, we'd never get anywhere.

"We're not going to be okay! You're in danger when you're with me. You'll never be safe. If you died, what would I do?" He was briefly breathing between sobs, and everyone just stared at him in shock. It almost seemed typical for him to blame it all on himself. He had been under the impression that he had to save the world for so long that now he was convinced he had to save me. -

"No one's going to die except for Voldemort." My voice was desperate. "Just go to sleep." Harry shook his head and started to turn away. "Harry, just look at me. I'm here. I'm okay. It was only a dream." He wouldn't listen, though.

"You're in danger because of me. Get away from me! It's not safe." Only one thing came to mind, and I leaned forward to kiss him, hoping it would soothe him. Maybe he could relax under my touch, at least. But I was wrong. As I went forward, his arm swung out suddenly, his fist making contact with my jaw. There was a crack and pain shot through my mouth. I could even taste the metallic blood, but all I could do was whimper. It hurt like hell.

"Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy." His emerald eyes were filled with foreign emotions. Usually they were so compassionate, only loving. But now they were wide and rabid-looking, and even though a part of me told me he wasn't in his right mind, I was still angry. It was too similar to when he had come back from the hospital, when he had forgotten. A part of me nagged that he didn't mean it, but it stung more than it should have. I got up and began to march out of the room, avoiding looking back.

"Malfoy, wait, you know he doesn't mean it." Thomas chased after me and laid a hand on my shoulder. I tried to retort something, but the attempt to move my jaw sent deep-rooted tentacles of pain across my entire face. I yelped.

"You okay?" I nodded, but Thomas didn't look so convinced. "And, really, you know he's just acting – well, insane right now. He doesn't mean a single word." I nodded again, this time somewhat more reluctantly. He was right, but it was hard not to be at least slightly upset. "Just don't be angry. You'll regret it. Plus, both of you will be making Ron go mental with your snogging by breakfast." I nodded again, attempting a smile, then winced. Still, the pain in my jaw was nothing compared to seeing Harry in this state.

"Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey. I think it's broken." Unable to talk, I pointed to my wrist and then showed eight fingers, hoping he'd understand I would go at eight. It was too early to bother her with something so trivial this early in the morning. Thomas smiled and then yawned. "Night."

I headed downstairs, trying to think of anything but the pain in my jaw. It throbbed, and with each step, I cringed as it echoed into my mouth. It was apparently back to sleeping on the couch. And that was all because Harry had lost it. That thought wasn't much better or comforting.

Without Harry by my side, it was abnormally cold. I tried leaning into the rough fabric, but the moment the slightest pressure pressed again my cheek, I pulled back, hissing at the pain. There was no chance of me falling asleep anytime soon – of that I was sure. True, I had calmed down, but there was no chance of me going back to Harry anytime soon. For one, he'd probably only hurl a few more insults at me; and, two, he still had to apologise for it. Apparently, I had tried to scowl because another stab in my jaw broke my train of thought.

This was just brilliant. Harry was slowly deteriorating under the stress, and all I could do to help was comfort him. Oh, wait, that only led to him punching me in the jaw! My thoughts were terribly unhelpful in letting me relax. It had to be five by now, anyway. This was just ridiculous. I was probably going to fall asleep in class tomorrow – unless, of course, Harry helped with that. And that would only happen if he regained any shreds of sense and apologised for breaking my jaw. My thoughts were in a hopeless circle. This was pitiful.

Somehow, despite the horrid throbbing and pesky worries, I managed to eventually loosen up. It took a while, but I got there. All I had to do was think of Harry whispering in my ear, telling me he loved me. I could feel phantom lips against mine, and if it didn't hurt, I probably would've smiled. It was amazing how all my fears – every horrible idea that crowded my mind – could just ebb away if I merely pictured him smiling at me. I didn't fail to notice how ridiculously sappy that was, too. But I didn't care. If loving him meant that I sometimes said cheesy things, I could live with that. He was worth all the fears, the pain, the disgusted looked people sometimes gave us. I didn't care if he was the Chosen One anymore. To me, right now, he was just…Harry.

Slowly, as sun started to bathe the room, I found myself getting tired. It was probably ridiculous to fall asleep now, so soon to when I'd wake up, but I could barely keep my eyes open. It was a struggle each time I blinked, so it was no surprised when I descended into the realm of dreams.

He was dead. The Dark Lord was finally dead. It seemed impossible to believe, and I half-expected the limp, white body on the ground to surge up and flash a malignant leer. It couldn't have been that simple. But the red eyes were vacant and the wand which had slain so many people lay a meter away from his still-outstretched hand. There was a crowd of people gathered around the area where the short battle had taken place. Yet no one spoke. There was an unnerving silence, and everyone stared at the scene with wide, shocked eyes. In the dim, dying lights of the day, the Dark Lord's body looked gray. And their eyes all seemed so bright in comparison. Vivid dots of green, blue, brown, and all shades between assaulted my eyes. Harry Potter had lived. We were all saved.

Harry's face betrayed pain and fear, though. At first I thought it was maybe grief from all those people who had died. But as I stepped forward, there was something else. His wand dropped from his hand, and he trembled where he stood, tears welling up in his eyes. Then, his eyes lifted so that they stared straight at me. I had to get to him, ask him what was wrong!

But the moment I thought that, a shout rang out through the stillness. "Avada Kedavra!" I turned to shout Harry's name, wishing desperately that a warning shout would save his life, but pain shot through my jaw. All I could manage was a weak whimper.

"Draco!" Harry's hand reached out, even though the space was too far for him to reach, and slowly one finger stuck out, pointing to something. Though time didn't make sense, I turned around, and saw my Father a few meters away from me. The green jet hit me in the chest, and while my body crumpled to the floor, I somehow remained standing upright. I looked down at my standing self to see another body, slightly more translucent. Was I a ghost?

"Harry?" Somehow, my jaw had healed, and I spoke reluctantly, watching the tears stain his face. He ran over to my body, and clutched it.

"Why, Draco?" His voice was a choked sob.

"Harry?" I repeated, trying to reach out for him. My hand didn't go through, but lay on top of his shoulder. It didn't make sense. But Harry didn't respond. I tried a third time, my voice louder, but he just continued to stare at my body. He couldn't see me, hear me, or even feel my hand on his shoulder. I didn't know what to say – what to do! And the crowd, no one in it helped. They all slunk away, without a second thought. Where was Weasley or Granger? Was no one really going to help him? He had done what they wanted, and now they were going to leave him to suffer all alone?

"I told you it wasn't safe. You were so stubborn. I said I wouldn't know what to do without you, but you wouldn't listen! What am I going to do? Who's going to hold me and roll his eyes when I start acting ridiculous? No one else can calm me just by stroking my hair or smiling. I'm cold. Who's going to give me his jacket and hold me? Kiss me? Fuck me?" I gasped as I felt a tear drip onto my face, and looked down at my dead body. I was wearing Muggle clothes, and – sure enough – a lose-fitting, mud-stained leather jacket.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I could feel them, warm and delicious, sweet. It was just like it should have been. But I couldn't kiss back. As much as I tried, it wasn't working. I wanted to shout at him, try to get him to see me. I was right here.

His hand started shaking me. "Wake up."

"I can't," I muttered, tears starting to form in my eyes. "Look at me. I'm here. Look at me!"

"Malfoy, wake up!" I looked at Weasley and groaned, grimacing. "It's time to wake up. Potions class starts in ten minutes. Harry didn't want to wake you up because you looked so calm." That didn't quite fit my dream. "We told Zabini to do it, but he was half-asleep and probably didn't really listen. Look, I have to go. I just came up here to grab my books." He started to walk out, then turned back. "Oh, and Harry told me to tell you he's sorry for last night. You'll get the whole 'I was mental,' speech when you come downstairs." With that, Weasley ran out of the room through the portrait hole.

I got up and went upstairs to put on my robes. That dream had been silly. It bothered me, still. But I knew it was only a result of yesterday's fight. My mind needed to start making more sense. I shoved my thoughts to the side, hoping I wouldn't have another dream like that. And hopefully Harry wouldn't have another nightmare either. Attempting to ignore the pain in my jaw, I loosened the tie around my neck and let it hang crooked. I was sure that Potions class had already started, but it was a double lesson. I wouldn't miss much. Running my hands through my hair, I walked downstairs again.

It was unusually quiet in the halls without anyone else there. There wasn't a hum of so many voices blurring together. Worse than that, Harry wasn't by my side. At least he had realised he had been barking mad yesterday. Still, all I wanted to do was find a quiet room and be with him – no talking, just kissing and –

I groaned as my jaw hurt again. Right, I couldn't smile. I pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing and walked inside. Madame Pomfrey looked surprised to see me. She slowly walked over.

"What's wrong, Mr. Malfoy?" Unable to respond, I pointed to my jaw. "Your jaw? What about it?" I sighed and mimed breaking a stick in my hands. "Ah, I see. I would have thought you'd be able to fix this on your own. There a simple spell for this." She pointed her wand at my jaw, and muttered something under her breath. There was a crunching sound, and although it didn't hurt, my jaw snapped back into place. "There you go."

"Ugh, thank you." I flexed my jaw experimentally and was glad to see that it didn't feel like someone was stabbing it.

"You should probably get your books and go to class." She sounded terse, and all I could do was nod my head and agree with her. Yet as I walked upstairs, grabbing my Potions book, a brilliant idea dawned on me. In third year, Harry's head a mysteriously hovered around. That could only mean one thing – he had an invisibility cloak. I started to rifflethrough his luggage, pulling up clothes. A grin slowly crossed my face as I wrapped my fingers around the silvery fabric. I placed it over my head and looked in the mirror, feeling positively powerful as I saw no reflection. This payback was definitely going to be sweet. I slipped downstairs and paused at Snape's classroom door. I couldn't have planned it out better myself. It was cracked open wide enough for me to squeeze through.

Brilliant – he was sitting in the back row. Harry looked positively bored, and doodled on his parchment. Snape was writing notes about something on the board. I crept over and kneeled down, crawling under the desk. His foot tapped impatiently on the ground, and I couldn't help but chuckle. Oh, it would indeed be sweet.

My hands moved forward, and pulled back his robes, exposing his pants. At that slight movement, he already jumped into the air.

"Mr. Potter, is there something wrong?" Snape drawled. It took effort to choke back a laugh.

"N – No, Sir."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as my hands dragged over the bulge in his pants. I quietly heard Granger whisper, "What's wrong?" In response, all I could hear was the furious scratching of quill against parchment. I was severely interested to see how he had explained this in his note. But right now I had more important matters on hand, quite literally. As I unzipped his pants, I didn't miss another soft whimper. I heard Weasley groan in disgust and Granger give him a warning, "Shut up" and couldn't help but grin.

Slowly, I massaged his length through his boxers, slightly anxious about what I was going to have to do. It was a completely different matter for him to be the one down on his knees. It wasn't that I exactly felt like I was going to hate this – it was going to nice to finally get some real payback, but I was nervous. No matter how close I was to it, it was hard to actually imagine any part of him other than his tongue shoved down my throat.

Finally, as his erection sprung free, Harry moaned. My mind eased with the sound, and my lips twitched upward into a grin again. "Fuck you, Malfoy," he weakly whimpered. Still, this wasn't missed by Snape, whose ears were especially keen when it came to finding any disruptions Harry made. This was going to be fun, after all.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Mr. Potter, or do you just find it fun to disrupt my class every few minutes?" Just as Harry about to reply, I slowly licked the tip of his cock, and any words were lost in a choked moan. "Excuse me?" Professor Snape asked, his voice teetering on the edge of a dangerous knife.

"I'm – I'm fine Professor," Harry muttered, his fingers clutching his chair. I chuckled and this time took a less timid approach, wrapping my mouth around the tip of his cock, my hands cupped around his balls and gently stroking the skin. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I imagined it was at least have a more defined taste or feel different. I didn't have long to dwell on the thought, though because Harry took a sharp intake of breath, his fingers now curled around the rim of the chair and trembled at the force with which he clutched the wood.

Experimentally, I moved further along, my teeth just grazing the tip of his cock. He jumped slightly in his seat, and a quiet squeak escaped his mouth. My throat constricted a little and I gagged as his hips moved forward just a little bit. The tip of his length brushed against the back of my throat, and I felt like I was going to throw up. When I pulled back, it felt a tad slippery, and it was slightly saltier than it was before.

The only thing I wished was that I could see his face clearly. It must have been beautiful – entirely breathless, and I knew he was entirely under my control. His entire body leaned forward, and I couldn't even imagine how impossible it must have been for him to contain nearly any sound.

"This is just gross," Weasley whispered, his tone of his voice matching his words. Just from the sound, I could imagine his green, completely repulsed expression.

"This is the last time any of you three disrupt my class. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Next time it'll be a week's worth of detention." There were groans from around the class, and I chuckled against him, trying to remember how to breathe. Harry's entire body seemed to stiffen, and out of nowhere, something hot and salty was shooting down my throat. Harry let out a weak moan, which, miraculously, Snape did not hear for once.

I pulled back, trying not to choke on the liquid. It dripped down the side of my mouth, dribbling on my chin. If I could ignore the taste, I could've almost thought I had a taken a gulp of chocolate , the taste made it quite distinguishable from anything else. And somehow I managed to swallow it down, and slowly covered Harry, one layer at a time.

It took a while to finally pull myself away from underneath the table, but Harry's face was still flushed. He made an effort to hide it by dipping his head and letting his scruffy hair fall over it, covering it to some extent. I scooted behind him and kissed the back of his neck, chuckling to myself. His elbow jerked back little enough for anyone else to take notice, but I barely repressed a grunt as it connected with my stomach.

I pulled out of the classroom and walked to the bathroom, gurgling water in my mouth. There was a little bit of it dried next to my mouth, and I scrubbed it off. I didn't want to imagine Snape's reaction if I went in there screaming to the world what I'd just done. When I had finished, I ran upstairs to get my books.

"What are you still doing here?" the Fat Lady asked, as she swung open. I ignored her question and climbed in, hoping my excuse would be good enough for Snape. I had been gone unusually long. When I finally faced the Potions classroom, cloak-free and carrying my books, I strolled in, trying to look as confident as possible.

The first thing that met my eyes was Harry's absolutely furious expression. I choked back a laugh as Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"How kind of you to decide to join us, Mr. Malfoy. Would you care to explain why you're so late?"

"Well, Harry had punched me in the nose this morning, and I – well, I don't really know how to heal broken bones. I went to Mrs. Pomfrey and then started down here. But by the time I walked into the Dungeons, I realised I had forgotten my books. So, I went back up to get them, and – well – here I am. I didn't mean to disrupt your class or seem irresponsible," I muttered, allowing myself to blush and seem ashamed. Snape seemed to believe this performance because he nodded and turned to glare at Harry.

"You broke Malfoy's nose?" Harry stuttered some unintelligible and his face bloomed into colour.

"I didn't mean to!"

"You didn't…mean to?"

"I just sorta swung out, and his nose was sorta there, and I – I wasn't thinking properly!"

"Clearly. You'll have to save your performance for someone who's more easily convinced. I believe you've just bought yourself a detention." Snape's lips twitched upward into a slight sneer, and then he turned back to the board. I slipped into the seat next to Harry and kissed his neck.

I couldn't tell whether he was angry or just generally in shock that all this was happening. I figured it was a mix when he glared at me, his eyes holding only true anger. A piece of paper was shoved my way, and I looked at the note: 'I can't believe you, Malfoy. In class!'

I scribbled back: 'Well, you can't admit you didn't enjoy it…' As I glanced over at him, he snorted, but didn't look any less appeased. His quill stabbed the paper viciously, and he handed it to me.

'How could I enjoy it? Snape was standing just a few meters away from me. That was just such a…bastardly thing to do.' Sighing, I lay my hand on top of his. I hadn't meant to upset him this much. Perhaps I had gone a bit too far. Harry tried to yank away, but I held on tightly, my thumb stroking the top. At last, he stopped trying to pull away, and leaned into me, looked defeated. Snatching the paper back, he scribbled something else and handed it back. 'Okay, maybe I did enjoy it just a little bit. But just a little!'

His lopsided smile and crooked glasses faced me, and a desire to kiss him burst from within me. I could've sworn he'd never looked so happy and a sheepish grin crept onto my face. It was nice to be forgiven. Harry's hand slid out from underneath mine and was placed on my thigh. I stiffened, but he pressed his lips to my ear and whispered, "Don't worry. I'm not as cruel as you."

"I can't believe this," I just barely heard Weasley mutter. "I'm going to vomit." I only chuckled and focused to the front of the classroom. Snape was writing notes on the board, lazily moving his wand hand and letting the words appear on their own. It seemed to be something about antidotes to one potion or another. I wasn't really sure, as I hadn't been paying much attention to that until now. Writing down a few words, I found it hard to focus. Harry's breath whispered against my neck. As if he could read my mind, his tongue dashed out between his lips and tasted my neck. I gasped and straightened up as Snape turned around.

Snape raised one eyebrow just a bit, before turning around again, his cape billowing up. He had to keep up with him ominous act at all times. Rather than continuing to copy down, I leaned into Harry's shoulder, ignoring a glance or two thrown backward at us. Blaise, on the other hand, snickered, and passed a note to us. It was neatly written, as most Slytherins' handwriting was precise.

'What was all that gasping about, earlier, Potter?' I could imagine Blaise's jeering tone, and smirked at Harry as he blushed.

'I don't know what you're talking about,' I saw Harry write in a snaking scrawl. He poked his quill into Blaise's shoulder, and dropped the note so that it fell directly under Blaise's chair.

'I'm not an idiot, Potter. Draco, care to elaborate?'

'Let's just say I got my payback using an invisibility cloak,' I wrote as Harry tried to grab the paper from me without getting Snape's attention.

"I'm going to kill you for this, Draco," he muttered, pulling his fingers through his hair. I simply kissed his cheek in response, and his glower softened. "It's impossible to be angry at you.

'Wait, you have an invisibility cloak?' This time it was Dean writing.

'It's Harry's," I wrote at Harry still unsuccessfully tried to snatch it.

'Where did you get an invisibility cloak?'

'I really don't know. It doesn't matter. Can we please drop this?' "You're so insufferable sometimes," he moaned, louder probably than expected. Harry was turning redder by the minute, and it didn't help when Snape turned around to glare at him one more time.

"If you don't stop talking, Potter, it'll turn into a week's worth detention. You may be used to escaping punishment as the Chosen One, but that privilege doesn't extend in my classroom." Harry jerkily nodded, and I almost felt bad for him.

Luckily for him, Blaise and Thomas dropped the subject, and he was left to mope in peace. Still, Harry edged away from me slightly, pretending to be focused on what Snape was writing on the board. From the frequent times he'd scratch out words and the way he'd moodily jab his quill into the ink, I knew he was upset. Yet when I tried to lay my hand on his shoulder, he shoved me off, deciding to take back the previous apology.

When class finally ended and we were strolling out, I grabbed his hand. Like I expected, he tried to pull his hand out of my grasp. As I only held on tighter, his eyes narrowed and he gave me a glare.

"Get off of me."

"Look, Harry, I'm sorry. I am." He tried to shake me off again, this time succeeding.

"You think a simple 'I'm sorry' will do it?" His voice dropped down low so only I could hear him. "You gave me a blowjob in class. And not just any class, but Snape's. You know how he's out to get me." His green eyes were darker than usual, and, sure enough, kindled a flame of anger. "And, that would have been fine. I was willing to forgive you, but then you had to go and brag about it to Dean and Zabini."

"Look, I didn't mean to make you so angry, Harry. I was just trying to –"

"Let me guess, you wanted payback for me breaking your jaw. The detention I'm getting isn't enough? You decided it would be fun to humiliate me while you were at it?" I shook my head, trying to remember why it had all made so much more sense when I had done it.

"Well, yeah, but you're making it sound worse than it is. You're overreacting."

"Worse than it is? I came in Snape's classroom in front of a bunch of Gryffindors and Slytherins. Excuse me for overreacting." He started walking away, and on an impulse I grabbed him, ignoring his protests.

Roughly, I shoved him against the wall, my leg just pressed gently against his thigh. He moaned, but the sound was cut off as I smashed our lips together. One hand pulled through his fingers, and the other cupped his cheek. His lips parted, and I plunged my tongue in. At first he weakly tried to fight back, but he melted against my touch, and I tasted him, devoured him. His arms snaked around my waist and he pulled me closer. I trailed my lips to his ear and nibbled at the sensitive skin. Harry moaned again, sliding a little down the wall. When I finally pulled back, I grinned at him. He looked completely dishevelled.

"Ugh, fuck. You did that to make me forgive you, didn't you?" I smiled and licked my lips, barely suppressing a chuckle as his eyes followed my tongue.

"Did it work?"

"Well, maybe." I planted another kiss on his lips, and he lightly pushed me back. "Alright, yes, yes, I forgive you. Prat." I simply smiled.

A/N: Okay, usually I don't do two author's notes, but I didn't want to bother those people who wanted to get straight to the chapter. Anyway, I'm planning on making this 20 chapters, so there are only two to go. For those of you who stuck with me, well, thank you! ^_^ Who wants to leave me a review? I think you want to, right? Right? I have milk and cookies! They're Dark Mark-shaped like usual. ~puppypout~

But really, I'd love your input for this chapter. I didn't think it was that great, but my lovely friend and beta (let's just call her Lauren Malfoy) thought it was well done. I don't know... Tell me your opinions please!