A/N: First, thanks to all those who read/reviewed/favorited/followed! It means a lot that you all like my writing. Anyway, so this is like the first chapter, but from Draco's POV. It goes into more detail as to how the pair ended up in the situation. Hope you enjoy!

Waking Up 2

Draco was having the most delicious of dreams. It all started off with the warmth. Draco wasn't usually this warm in the mornings. Often, the Warming Charm he placed on his bedding at night had worn off by this point. Draco briefly pondered this abnormality then released it. He was one to enjoy life's pleasures and finer things, and it was decided this was serendipity.

Draco gave a little moan of contentment and snuggled back against his covers behind him. If the covers around him seemed to tighten briefly, he took it as a passing thought. He wasn't his most coherent in the mornings, after all.

Draco drifted and dozed for awhile longer yet. It was Saturday and he had no pressing matters to attend to. His homework had been done before the party yesterday and if he missed breakfast, he could visit the kitchens or have a house elf deliver him something. There really was no rush.

Draco's thoughts continued on in this vein until he thought he felt a small whoosh of air pass over his back. This seemed a strange thing to feel in his bedroom. He hadn't moved in awhile and he knew his windows weren't open. The thought lulled the rest of him toward wakefulness.

As more thoughts intruded, Draco noted he was quite a bit warmer on the back side of his body than the front, except for a small strip across his torso. Now that he thought about it, his torso seemed to be bare beyond the strip of warmth. Draco's mind had almost finished making the connections when what he took to be an arm was lightly dragged across his chest.

Draco sucked the slightest bit of air in through his mouth. The touch had produced some puzzling sensation. There was definitely someone in his bed. Draco didn't know who his assumedly mystery lover was. He rarely took his lovers to his own bed, and he never let them stay the night. Not even Pansy, when he occasionally messed around with her. He was a Slytherin. He took his pleasure where he wanted and he dictated the rules around him. But this lover was still here…

Draco considered turning over and giving whoever was behind him a tongue lashing, but he was stopped by the person idly drawing patterns into his back. The fingers felt nice, but Draco could tell they belonged to a male. The pads were work-roughened and windblown. Not to mention the slight thickness was a giveaway.

Draco wasn't too concerned. He'd been with a couple of blokes before. Even Blaise before his friend decided he was more for the female persuasion. Draco liked both, but favored the males a bit more. There was just something about strength and power that drew him in and females just weren't as capable of it as guys.

These were just some of the thoughts going through Draco's head as his mystery partner drew idly on him. Draco let the tracing continue in silence as he liked the feeling and he was nothing if not appreciative of small pleasures. When his lover touched a particular part of his back, Draco couldn't help letting out a small moan. This was apparently the wrong thing to do, because his partner made the touches even lighter. The whispers of feeling were such a tease to Draco's now sensitive skin. He was tempted to lean back into it again.

This thought was wiped completely from the Slytherin's mind as a pair of warm lips touched his back. The skin under the lips tingled pleasantly. He marveled in these feelings briefly but was sidetracked when the lips touched another part of his back. And so the attack on his back commenced. Draco's eyes fluttered closed as he absorbed the assault on his senses. He thought he might have moaned or shivered, but he was too involved to be sure.

Draco thought it couldn't get much better until a tongue flicked out to taste his skin. He whimpered. He couldn't help it. He really couldn't. He would have felt embarrassed about it if the sound hadn't been completely overpowered by his partner's chest-deep moan. Draco felt the sound reverberate through him. Clearly, he was not the only one affected by these activities. Draco thought there might have been a hint of something familiar in the groan, but he couldn't place it yet.

Draco moaned softly. His lover's tongue was magical. The boy, and if he doubted it was a boy before, the very obvious erection against him convinced him now, surely knew how to use it. It made him wonder if that tongue was likewise as talented in other areas…

Draco was still coming down off this high when his assailant placed his tongue solidly on a low point on Draco's back. Before the Slytherin could properly respond, the tongue made a long swipe up his back's length. That was it. Draco couldn't have held back the drawn out moan this action elicited if he'd tried.

He thought this sound might have alerted his captor to his awakened state, but it seemed the boy no longer cared, as the assault on Draco's back did not cease. Much less, it increased in frequency until Draco was reduced to a single ball of sensation. The shivers and whimpers he gave off were simply beyond his control to stop. It was a combination of his annoyance at this loss of control and the fact that it was becoming far too much that finally had Draco turning in his captor's arms.

He briefly noted his captor was Potter, and he'd deal with the shock later, before he attached his mouth to Potter's. He soon found that lips were not enough and thus used his tongue to demand entrance into Potter's mouth. Merlin! He was addicted. Surely this boy was a drug and Draco could only pray that he overdosed. When the need for air became too much, Draco simply moved his attentions to Potter's jaw and throat. The tastes there were exquisite, as well. Some part of Draco's mind compared Potter's taste to that of some of the finest things he'd ever consumed. There was no comparison for the Slytherin. The Gryffindor was likely to become the only thing that would truly sate his palate.

Draco felt a vague annoyance at this fact and growled as a reaction. He noticed Potter's eyes flick to his as he did so, so he growled at the Gryffindor, too.

"Potter!" he said, "I don't know what the hell you're doing here, but there better be a damn good reason."

But despite his words, which were mostly just for show anyway, Draco resumed his own assault on the Gryffindor's mouth. It really was quite a tantalizing mouth.

When the need for air again broke them apart, Draco flopped back onto his bed and tried to catch his breath. A quick check told him Potter had done the same.

Suddenly the raven let out an exclamation.

"Oh, shit," he'd said.

Draco thought that summed the whole debacle up nicely so he answered with a "Too, right."

While they lay there, Draco let his mind wander back and tried to remember how they'd gotten to this point. Last night…

…last night was a bit fuzzy. He'd been at the Slytherin party. There had been no real cause for celebration. Nott had simply wanted to throw a party and made it happen. Draco had enjoyed it for a bit. He deserved to cut loose once in awhile. The socializing had been quaint until someone decided they should be less than dignified and produced loads of alcohol and uproarious music and it all went downhill from there. By the time the party had become even too rambunctious for his taste, Draco had consumed an obscene amount of alcohol. Draco thought he ought to find Snape in order to stop the party before it went too much further. After all, it would not do for the other Houses to catch word of this and start changing their views about Slytherins. Millicent over there already looked about one shot away from thoroughly embarrassing herself.

Draco caught Blaise's eye from across the room. He indicated to the boy, the closest thing he could have to a friend being a Slytherin, that he was leaving for a bit. He wasn't sure if the message sunk in –Blaise barely looked any more sober than Draco— but it didn't matter. He'd return in a matter of minutes anyway.

Draco stumbled out of the room as dignified as he could. After all, he was a Malfoy, and decorum was required in all circumstances, even extreme inebriation. Draco was making his way down the corridor when he came upon Potter and some of his Gryffindor lackeys. Draco sneered at them, or at least he hoped he did. Controlling motor functions and facial expressions at the same time seemed to be pushing his limits at the moment.

Draco wanted to know what they were doing in the dungeons, and after hours to boot, and was about to use his Prefect powers to call them out on it, when suddenly Longbottom stumbled to a wall before throwing up. The way he heaved indicated he either took in a lot, or he was trash at holding his liquor. The latter option seemed more viable to Draco. Longbottom was trash at everything else, after all.

Draco let his disgust for the moment of weakness as well as Longbottom's overall ineptitude clearly show in his features as he looked the boy over before dragging his eyes back to Potter. Potter seemed oblivious to Longbottom's plight and instead had a loopy grin on his face as he stared at Draco without actually seeming to take the blond's presence in.

Draco looked past Potter to where Finnegan and Thomas seemed to be holding each other up and singing what sounded like some Irish pub song at an increasingly raised volume. Draco dismissed the pair from his sight almost immediately. His gaze drifted back to Potter who seemed to have taken a few steps closer to him in his distraction.

"And where do you think you're going, Potter?" he said.

The other boy stopped and blinked. It seemed that hearing his name had momentarily snapped him out of his drunken stupor. But it didn't last. It seemed the alcohol had possession of whatever claim to a brain Potter usually called his own for the night because a few blinks later and the dazed look and loopy grin were back.

Potter continued his approach and Draco decided to stand still. A proper sneer seemed beyond him, but he hoped his eyes held all the disdain he felt for the Gryffindor. Potter didn't seem to notice, however, as he finally arrived in front of the Slytherin and simply stared into those apparently-not disdain-filled eyes with his own, which Draco silently noted seemed to be glowing tonight. Draco blamed this last thought on the alcohol—the load he and Potter had consumed.

Then the Gryffindor reached up and traced a finger down Draco's cheek, a move that had the Slytherin rearing back as if scorched. What the hell?! Surely Potter had not just caressed him? He'd say it was a hallucination and blame this, likewise, on his alcohol consumption if his cheek wasn't still tingling.

Potter seemed not to notice this reaction either as he was looking at Draco as if he hadn't moved a muscle. Draco also noted that Potter was absently running a thumb in small circles over the finger that had traced his skin, as if he wanted to absorb the sensation at another point. This recognition was only absently noted through Draco's peripheral view as his main focus was staring directly at Potter. He'd no doubt he had quite the incredulous face displayed this time. Everything he felt was behind it.

Potter's mouth twitched into what Draco would call a smirk if it'd been intentional and the boy moved toward him again. Draco stepped back again, not wanting Potter to mess around and touch him another time. He realized his mistake instantly—you never show weakness or give the enemy the upper hand. To cover up his lapse, Draco tried again to display his best sneer and asked again, "What are you doing down here, Potter?"

Again, the name seemed to snap the Gryffindor to the here and now for a moment, and this time he answered.

"Crashing a Slytherin party," he said.

Draco kicked the sneer up a notch. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah," was the only reply. Then Potter blinked a few times before looking around and finally noticing his friends. Finnegan and Thomas had wandered off a bit down the corridor and Longbottom had sunken down to the floor, dangerously close to the pile of his own vomit.

Potter blinked back stupidly at Draco and summed up quite unnecessarily, "I think we're drunk."

Draco felt his eyes roll. As if he couldn't tell that was the case. Feeling more in command of the situation, he stepped toward Potter himself and then heard a menacing growl and the clipped steps of the Potion's Master around a few more corners. Shit! He had forgotten about Snape. Acting purely on instinct, he grabbed Potter's hand and began to drag him away from the approaching teacher's path and to an alternate route to his room. Being a Prefect had its benefits and Draco used them now to escape what surely would have been the tongue lashing of his life.

When they arrived at his room, they both crouched over panting. When Draco caught his breath, he couldn't help but laugh. Damn, but that was a thrill. He cut his eyes to the Gryffindor to see that he had just about caught his breath, as well.

The new adrenaline in Draco's system seemed to be doing funny things as it mixed with the alcohol in his blood. He decided he liked it and could indulge the feelings. When he next looked at the Gryffindor, it was more hunter to prey than anything.

What little sense Harry seemed to have was clearly cooperating now, as Draco's prey backed up a step when he caught the look in Draco's eyes.

"Malfoy," the raven said hesitantly, taking another step back.

"Hmm?" was his reply as he moved in for the kill.

In Harry's still intoxicated state, he was no match for the Slytherin when he moved in to capture the raven. Draco nuzzled his nose against Harry's neck. Some small voice in Draco's head told him he was finally giving in to six years of jealousy and lust, but Draco quickly silenced it. He didn't care why this was happening, only that it did.

Draco kissed the captured raven softly, slowly at first, and after the initial token resistance, his bird relented. As Draco changed the angle of the kiss, Harry became more loose and responsive. His soft bite and tug on Harry's lower lip elicited a moan from his raven.

Before they knew what had happened, they had found the bed and their soft kisses had turned into a full out snog session. A fair bit of snogging and groping and yet more alcohol from Draco's private stores later found the couple out cold with nary a stitch of cloth between them.

And just this naked is how Draco awoke…

A/N:Noted first and foremost, they did not actually have sex. I know I implied that, but it didn't get that far. (But if you like that kinda thing, by all means, pretend I said nothing.) Inebriated sex is a personal squirk (is that the word?). I don't like it. I'd like my sex partners making conscious choices, if you know what I mean. Moving on...

That was probably a terrible place to stop, huh? But I ran out of ideas. xD! I'm writing and posting this as the inspiration comes, so I'm getting to know the story as you are. (You'd be surprised to know that the current order of this chapter is almost completely backward from how it was written. Writers' heads are screwy places.) If I decide to write more and make Harry and Draco a couple, which is likely, you'll all be the second to know behind myself. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!