2

The next day, Harry's gaze kept sneaking over to Draco.

He'd been tense all day, prepared to walk into breakfast to an expertly choreographed performance from the Slytherins about Harry fumbling through snogging. He kept expecting someone in green and silver to saunter up to the Gryffindor table and announce to Harry's housemates that Harry had let Draco Malfoy's tongue in his mouth. His stomach had been in knots thinking about Hermione pulling him aside for a talk about what past trauma had led to Harry's new, self-destructive behavior.

None of that happened. The Slytherins didn't even spare him a second glance.

It wasn't like Harry thought Draco was walking around as stunned as he was over a simple kiss. Draco had done a whole lot more interesting things with their classmates than snogging in detention.

But when he'd agreed to let Draco kiss him, he'd pushed away the voice that warned him he was signing up for The Boy Who Lived: Disappointing Kisser headlines splashed across Witch Weekly featuring quotes like, "It was a bet. We sent Draco in to see how long it would take before Potter succumbed to him. We'd thought maybe a few weeks, a month. Thirty minutes, though, yikes. It was so pathetic that we don't even like to talk about it."

He shouldn't have done it at all. But in the moment…well, it had made him feel normal, hadn't it? A normal teenager who could just snog someone. He never felt normal. He never got to just do something because it felt good even if he knew it was a mistake.

Harry kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because he wasn't normal and that meant he was going to pay for it.

"Why do you keep staring at Malfoy?" Ron whispered in Care of Magical Creatures. "Did something happen in detention?"

He felt an urge to laugh hysterically at that. He shook his head and muttered that it was nothing.

That night, after Snape left them with a giant stack of filthy brewing equipment, Harry blurted, "Did you tell?"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Tell what?"

Harry crossed his arms and tried to look like he had some pride. "Tell people about…you know."

Draco hesitated. "Was I not supposed to?"

Shit. Of course. What had Harry expected? He grabbed a cauldron and hauled it to the sink. "Did they get a good laugh out of it?"

"A laugh?" Draco tilted his head. "What do you think I told them exactly?"

Harry glared. "That I'm pathetically inexperienced. That I'm bad at it. Just…what should I expect in the hallways? I'd rather know now."

A number of things flickered over Draco's face. Harry had no idea what they meant.

Draco followed Harry to the sink, though without anything to clean himself. "Okay. I did tell them you're a virgin and that you'd barely been kissed before. It was just so shocking, Potter. And I told them that I'd shown you how snogging was done and that Snape almost walked in on us. I didn't tell them any details of said snogging, even though they asked for them. And even if I was the type to share those sorts of details, which I'm not, I would have told them that you are a fast fucking learner and that once you relaxed, you were pretty fantastic at it."

Harry blushed and tried to process this as he wiped neutralizer around the cauldron. It was somehow as bad and not as bad as he'd predicted. He wondered if Draco meant any of the last bit.

"Slytherins don't reveal each other's business to people in other houses. It's not done. So they won't bother you about being a virgin or whatever we do together in front of your prude Gryffindor friends." He considered. "In private, to your face, they may mock, but that's considered normal conversation in Slytherin."

Harry wasn't sure he believed that. "Why wouldn't they make fun of me? Everyone's shagging and I've barely started any of it."

Draco's smirk was back. "Well that's why you have snogging lessons, Potter. We're going to catch you up."

Harry paused scrubbing his cauldron. "Going to? You want to…do it again?"

Draco waved a hand airily. "Obviously. You think I'd rather spend the time with you droning on about quidditch while I scrape tables? But we should do it in the middle this time. While I certainly have some exhibitionist tendencies, they don't extend to having Professor Snape watch while I have my wicked way with you."

Harry's face went hot but his shoulders also felt lighter. He'd get to kiss Draco and not be bothered about it? "Er, okay."

"We'll take a snogging break when I'm done sorting out the expired ingredients," Draco decided.

With this new motivation, it was with a sense of purpose that Harry scrubbed at cauldrons and mortars. The less he had to finish at the start of their snogging break, the longer that break could probably be.

It crossed his mind that he was perhaps a bit too excited about all this. It was just because he wanted to learn. Snogging was snogging, no matter whose lips they were.

"Okay, take off those gloves, Potter," Draco announced suddenly. "We need to keep working on your form. We'll take five minutes. Ten at the most."

This time, Harry didn't waste so much time on being nervous. When Draco's hand cupped the back of his head, Harry met his mouth halfway.

Today, Draco's hands didn't stay still. They wandered firmly over Harry's back, his chest, his hips.

Harry's hands moved tentatively at first, fingers trailing over the fabric of Draco's dress shirt. But they gained courage, brushing the skin on his neck before slowly running down Draco's chest.

He'd never touched anyone like this. Never had anyone touch him like this. Even though it was over clothes, it felt like every nerve in his body was on fire.

Maybe Ron had been right. The way to get over his jumpiness around touching was to have someone touch him all over. He didn't jerk away at all.

Draco pulled away and glanced at the clock. "Shit. We went over. Snape's going to kill us if we don't get more of this done."

Harry dazedly nodded and slowly moved back to the sink.

"Potter, snap out of it. We need to catch up!" Draco called from the doorway to the supplies closet. His lips looked swollen. "You did good today."

Harry coughed out a thanks, clumsily shoving his gloves back on and trying to speed through the task at hand. Unfortunately, that proved to be difficult. The potions ingredients were caked on and had needed more scrubbing than Harry could finish in the time they had left.

When Snape returned, he was furious to see how little they'd gotten done and added an extra day to their detention schedule to make up for this pitiful one.

Harry couldn't bring himself to care, but on the way out, Draco muttered, "I can't be imprisoned in detention for my whole bloody life," before stalking off toward the Slytherin common room.

A sense of emptiness washed over Harry as he watched Draco go. It sounded like snogging lessons were over.

#

On Friday, Snape stayed in the office with them, lurking and looming, making sure they weren't slacking off. Harry went through his tasks, idly wondering when he'd have the chance to snog someone again. It looked pretty bleak, to be honest. At least before he hadn't known what he was missing, but now…how was he supposed to be around Draco every day, knowing what it was like and knowing he couldn't do it anymore?

Draco caught his eye while Snape was running a finger along a table he'd just cleaned and reporting that it was still grimy. He rolled his eyes.

"What are you smirking at, Potter?" Snape asked with a suspicious glare. "You think your area is so spotless?"

It was. Harry had had a long childhood of cleaning and even Snape struggled to find fault with the job he'd done. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter, you have all the makings of a fine house elf."

At the end of the hour, Harry trudged out the door, a little ashamed by how disappointed he felt that he wasn't kissing Draco. Draco Malfoy. Arrogant, whiny—

A hand latched around his wrist and tugged him into a corridor.

"Hey—"

Draco pushed Harry up against a wall, crushing his mouth against Harry's in a way that made all Harry's thoughts melt away.

They pulled apart, chests heaving.

Draco smiled an impish smile. "This way."

Draco led Harry further down the stone corridor, then through another until they were in the part of the dungeons that still contained cells. Draco tugged him into one with manacles hanging from the walls.

Harry walked over and examined one. "Are you about to imprison me?"

"Hardly anyone goes here."

The Bloody Baron suddenly passed through a wall in front of them. He pointed a long, ghostly finger at Harry. "Death is imminent," he pronounced in a raspy whisper before disappearing through the opposite wall.

Huh. People don't like snogging here. Can't fathom why."

Draco waved a dismissive hand. "Oh he's just having a bit of fun. And it's private. Unless you'd rather continue your snogging lessons in the Slytherin common room with everyone watching, which I'm not opposed to…" Draco raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Hard pass."

"Well then, this can be your lesson in snogging in uncomfortable places. Unless you'd like it to be your first lesson in kink, in which case we can put those manacles to use and I can teach you some manners." Draco waggled his eyebrows.

Harry took in the chains on the walls under a new light. "Do people really use those for that?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. I could see Snape bringing some fine lady down here, can't you?"

Harry blanched. "Oh. Oh god. That is an image I really didn't need." Something dripped from the ceiling and the stone was freezing. "As valuable as I'm sure a dungeon snogging lesson would be, I have a better spot." He nudged Draco back toward the cell door.

Draco scoffed. "What, the astronomy tower? I know you've probably never been there save for classes, but trust me, at this hour on a Friday night, it would be more private in the common room."

"Better than the astronomy tower." Harry grabbed his wrist and led him out of the dungeons, releasing it when they reached an area where other people tended to frequent.

They didn't run into anyone on their way up to the Room of Requirement and Harry was thankful. He didn't want to have to jump away from Draco or pretend they were fighting to explain away why they were together. And he definitely didn't want to have to explain…whatever it was they were doing.

Thankfully, the DA didn't come here anymore. Thinking of last year, he was also really glad Draco hadn't been part of Umbridge's band of narcs. At the time, he'd been suspicious about Draco not taking part. In fact, for almost all of fifth year, Draco had seemed distracted and withdrawn. He stopped ridiculing Neville for blowing up potions. The word "mudblood" seemed to abandon his vocabulary. He hadn't even risen to Ron's Death Eater comments with counterattacks about being poor. The only one he ever seemed to still go out of his way to poke at was Harry.

Then it got out that the Malfoys and the Parkinsons had defected from Voldemort and gone into hiding and it had made sense. Harry hadn't asked about it, but he could piece together that Draco had gone through a big shift in his worldview in a short period of time.

At the beginning of the sixth year, Harry had hoped the DA would reform, but nobody had been interested. Maybe because their defense professor was decent now, if a bit dull. Or maybe they were all just busy having social lives. But Harry still came to the room, practicing defense on his own. He even studied here sometimes when everyone else was being too couple-y or too normal-teenager-y and he started feeling like a freak who didn't quite know how to be part of it all.

Harry stopped in front of the troll ballet tapestry. Draco turned, taking it in. "This is your spot? In the middle of a hallway under that monstrosity? Oh Potter, you're worse off than I ever thought." Draco did a doubletake when he saw Harry pacing the three requisite times. "It's nothing to have a melt down over. We can find somewhere…is that a door?"

Harry opened it and yanked Draco inside. "Welcome to the Room of Requirement."

Instead of his usual practice space, with a lot of room for firing curses and nothing flammable to get in the way, the room was set up the way he liked it for studying. There was a large, crackling fireplace with a cozy rug in front of it, a very comfortable couch, and a jar filled with spare quills on a little table next to one of the arms.

"Better?"

Gaping, Draco walked slowly around. "How did you find this place?"

"I've got my tricks," Harry said mysteriously.

"You know of the most perfect secret sex room in the whole school," Draco said in awe.

Harry's face went hot. "It's not a sex room!" He looked around. "I mean, it gives you pretty much anything you want, so I guess you could put a bed in it…"

"What do you mean it gives you what you want?"

"Oh. Like this." He concentrated and two pumpkin juices appeared on the table. He gestured at them with a presenter's flourish.

Draco's brows knitted in concentration. "Nothing's happening."

"What are you trying to get?"

"Alcohol."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just what I need—you off your trolley. I bet it recognizes that you're underage."

"Well, it was almost a perfect secret sex room," Draco smirked, flopping down on the couch. "So, you've done a lot of standing up kissing, now you should know how to do it on a sofa."

"Is it different?" Harry moved Draco's legs aside so he could sit.

"Of course. Otherwise, you wouldn't need the lesson, now would you?"

He couldn't argue with that. "Okay, what's the difference?"

"Angles," Draco replied after a pause. "And positioning. See, on the couch, you can do this."

With an impish smirk, Draco grabbed Harry's legs and swung them up onto the cushions and crawled over him. Harry blinked straight up into Draco's gray eyes.

"Oh," Harry said before Draco leaned down and snogged him hard.

#

As Snape lectured to the class, Draco's gaze drifted in Harry's direction.

Harry's eyes flicked between Snape and his notes, cheek resting on a hand. He looked bored, but jotted down notes anyway.

If Draco had been sitting next to him, he could wipe that bored look right off Harry's face. He could put a hand on his thigh and slowly slide it up and Harry would get that flash in his eyes. Nervous and fascinated and brimming with want he didn't know how to hide.

Draco wasn't a fan of virgins. He usually hated their nervousness and needing to slow down to teach them everything.

But somehow, this had been …different.

It must have been because it was Harry Potter. The Golden Boy, Dumbledore's pet, the hero of the whole bloody wizarding world. And there was something humbling about him needing Draco to teach him this.

No…that didn't seem right. He'd never been able to keep himself from provoking Harry, even though he rarely emerged from their scrimmages feeling victorious. His friends had told him to leave Potter alone throughout their whole first year before eventually giving up on Draco being able to.

There was just something about watching those green eyes blazing when they turned on him. It always made Draco feel like out of all the people in the school who saw Harry completely composed and in control, he could get a reaction from Harry that felt raw. Something real and physical.

And this was a much better reaction. Just the two of them, alone. Harry letting go of the control he always clung to, letting Draco see him vulnerable for once, trusting Draco to guide him…

Harry caught his gaze and quickly ducked his eyes to his desk. But a smile tugged at his mouth.

Draco felt a smile wanting to come over his own face. He coughed and rubbed his nose until the urge died.

"Are you shagging him then?"

Draco jolted. Pansy was leaning his way with a curious tilt of her eyebrow.

He'd told his friends about snogging Harry. They always shared their sexual exploits. At first, they'd been awed—Draco had actually conquered the Golden Boy of Gryffindor? They'd been excited to watch Draco shag Harry and ditch him.

Imagine, Potter trailing after Draco in the halls. But I thought you were my boyfriend now! Blaise had sniggered.

Theo had nudged Draco with his elbow. I fully support you bedding Potter and breaking his heart. Then, I'll swoop in and pull him right into my comforting arms. Best way to get over someone is under someone—that will be my lesson for him.

Draco had smirked along, but even then, even knowing it would be the ultimate revenge, he hadn't actually enjoyed the images his friends had conjured up.

He hadn't told them all of it. Hadn't told them that when anything interesting or funny happened in his day, he immediately thought about telling Harry in detention. How while Harry sometimes had annoying opinions about things, he listened to Draco in a way that was so…sincere. Pansy listened to him too, but they were so different, she never seemed to get it when he got upset about things. Harry understood, though. When Draco had complained about his suspicions that the new DADA teacher was purposefully bumbling their class to avoid teaching the Slytherins any dueling skills, Harry ranted about it alongside Draco, equally as indignant.

Or how it had occurred to Draco one day, when he and Harry were laughing so hard Draco had nearly dropped a crate of beakers, that he wasn't sure he'd ever laughed so freely before. Maybe with Pansy when they were little, but as much as he adored Pansy, nobody would describe her as playful or funny. Never with Blaise, who despite being Draco's "fun" friend, would have made some comment about looking undignified.

Sometimes, he didn't even plan it—he just caught Harry in a kiss right in the middle of them talking. When Harry looked surprised, Draco would just smirk and say it was part of their lessons.

It had been three weeks now. His friends' smug cheers had shifted into confused questions. Draco was still just snogging Potter?

Pansy waited for an answer.

Draco shrugged a shoulder. When Snape wasn't looking, he whispered, "In time."

#

For the first time, as Snape pointed out the sludge dripping from practically every surface in the potions classroom, Harry was actually glad Snape had rained hell down on the third year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class that had thrown dungbombs into each other's cauldrons. It wasn't as funny when you were the one who had to scrub it off, especially since the goo seemed to be eating its way through the cabinets.

As soon as Snape swooped from the classroom and slammed the door behind him, Harry glanced to Draco eagerly, waiting for the plan for the day. "This is a lot to do, maybe we wait until after detention?"

Draco didn't look up at him. He slammed on his gloves and grabbed the rag. "Can't snog you today, Potts, sorry."

Embarrassment washed over Harry. All weekend, he'd had trouble concentrating on anything. He'd been waiting for Monday detention like other people waited for Christmas. Normally, he'd be thinking about things like how Ron and Hermione dating made him feel like a third wheel or whether Dumbledore was using him or whether his scar was going to burn unexpectedly in the night.

The second Draco pressed up against him, all that stuff always went away. Honestly, even talking with Draco in detention helped.

But of course Draco had lost interest. There were plenty of people in this school who were experienced, who could surprise him with…sex tricks and stuff. Draco knew people in this school who wouldn't stop his hands before they could even slide under their shirts.

It wasn't that Harry didn't want Draco's hands under his shirt. He knew it was sort of insane he was stopping it. He was sixteen and a boy. If Ron and Seamus ever found out, he didn't think they'd even tease him about it. They'd ask him what the hell was wrong with him.

It was just that he was starting to feel on the edge of losing control when he was with Draco. He suspected as soon as they started going under clothes or taking clothes off, even something as innocent as a shirt, Harry wouldn't be able to stop himself from going further. People could still be awful about snogging—they could be awful about anything, Harry had learned—but it wasn't like they could get too shocked over it. But Harry knew things could get really bad if things went further and details got out. He couldn't let that happen, even if it meant this had to end.

"Sure. Yeah, that's fine." He fumbled with the gloves. "So…does that mean our lessons…are over?" He tried to sound like he didn't mind, but he didn't think it came out that way.

Draco's head whipped up. "Please, Potts, do you think you're an expert? No way you're ready to be launched into the wild yet."

A wave of relief hit Harry so strongly his knees felt weak. "I'm not that bad."

Draco's expression lost a little of its edge. "Nah, you're not that bad. Thanks to me, of course."

"Of course." Harry wiped at the mess, dipping his rag into the bucket of base as it began to smoke. "So, something else on your schedule today?"

Draco scowled. "I have to study for Defense. Idiotic subject. Even more idiotic teacher."

Harry didn't think their new Defense professor was too bad. He was mostly boring, which was both unfortunate and a relief. Yeah, Harry had to teach himself to get a proper education considering what he was up against, but even Hermione and Ron, who'd started out the year coming with him, had eventually figured they were getting a perfectly fine education in the classroom. Or, at least, they had decided that they were learning enough that they would rather spend their free time shagging than shooting spells at Harry.

Of course, now that Harry knew what snogging felt like, he understood. Practicing shields didn't really compare to the feeling of Draco's tongue against his.

Draco, though, seemed to be upset in a way Harry didn't think could just have to do with needing to hit the books. "Did something happen?"

Draco's jaw worked. "We're dueling in class."

Ah. Harry had been happy for the change, always glad to get out of his seat and do something practical. His only complaint was that a lot of the other students were behind him, so he sometimes felt like he was teaching the other students instead of getting challenged to be better himself. It made him miss Remus teaching.

"Do you want some help?"

Draco snorted derisively. "You'd want to help a wannabe Death Eater get better at dueling?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "If you're a wannabe Death Eater, that's got to be very awkward at home."

It was the first time he'd broached any subject about the war.

"I'm not a wannabe Death Eater," Draco said quietly.

"I know, you prat." But Harry made sure his tone was gentle. "And you're probably not low on Voldemort's hit list so dueling isn't a bad skill to learn."

Draco flinched.

"I'm not too bad at tutoring in Defense."

"Oh brilliant! The wonderful Chosen One comes to rescue my incompetent arse!" Draco spat, ignoring the smoke from his rag. He held it up to find a hole had eaten through the middle of it and threw it into the bucket with a wet thwack.

"Hey," Harry said sharply, "you can be in a foul mood but don't take it out on me. Defense is my best subject and I tutored a lot of people in it last year. In case you've forgotten, you're already tutoring me in something you're an expert in."

Draco's lips quirked fractionally. He looked up from his bucket at Harry in a calculating sort of way. "I'd rather fail the class than have people know you're tutoring me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "We spend most of our time together making out and you don't want people to know about studying? Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. We can start after detention."

#

An hour later, the pair stared in surprise at a dummy that was flaming from the chest.

"Okay, good thing you didn't practice that one on me," Harry said faintly, dousing the flames with his wand.

Draco threw his wand down in frustration. "I'm never going to get this."

But Harry was determined. "You got the last few ones, you're going to get this one. So pick your wand back up and I'll show you what you did wrong."

Draco grumbled as he plucked his wand from the floor and glared at Harry when he approached.

"You're such a delight to tutor." Harry took the fist in which Draco held his wand into his own. He stood half-behind Draco, so he could manipulate the Slytherin's arm accordingly. "Okay, first, loosen your grip a bit. When you say it, emphasize the second syllable. The wand movement's more of a sweep during the pro-TEG and a flick on the o. Sweep and flick. Pro-TEG-o."

Draco shifted his stance and Harry was suddenly very aware of the blond's body. He let go of Draco's hand and stepped back, clearing his throat lightly, under the guise of allowing Draco to practice it by himself.

The spell finally worked properly. Harry caught a flash of glee cross Draco's face before it was masked by a façade of cool pride.

"You're very conscious of how the spells are performed."

"Yeah, I guess so." Harry sat on the couch. His stomach rumbled. The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams had double-booked the pitch for practice and had both ended up trying to use it together, which had ended up in more fighting than flying. By the time they were out, Draco and Harry had to miss dinner or risk being late to detention.

With a flumph, Draco dropped onto the cushion next to him. "Vincent's had a lot of trouble with Defense. I've tried to teach him, but the spells I can do, I just do. When I try to explain it, all I can do is tell him to watch me closely. If I try to figure out what exactly I'm doing, I forget how I did it in the first place," Draco closed his eyes momentarily and a plate of some sort of seafood pasta appeared on the coffee table.

In front of Harry, a basket of fish and chips appeared.

"What is that?" Draco asked, nose turned up.

Harry gaped. "You haven't had fish and chips before? Are you even English?" He dipped one in vinegar and held it out, wrapped in newspaper. "Just try a bite."

Draco glanced from Harry to the food, then leaned forward and took a delicate bite off the end. He watched Harry as he chewed. "That is vile."

"Liar. Try a chip."

Not until you try some decent food," Draco demanded, swirling some pasta on his fork and holding it up to Harry's mouth.

It suddenly all felt kind of…date-y. Harry tried not to smile as he closed his mouth around Draco's fork. "That's good."

"Obviously, Potter, I have impeccable taste." Draco waved his fork around with one hand and grabbed a chip off Harry's plate with another.

They joked around with Draco making a show of distracting Harry with his pasta while sneaking chips off his plate. Harry played along, feeling so…light. Was this how normal teenagers felt? Like everything was just good?

"I can tutor Crabbe, if you want," Harry said, knocking Draco's hand away as it went for the last chip. "Well, I guess if he wants."

Draco eyed him critically. "I wouldn't stand for him being made to feel stupid."

"I've been made to feel stupid enough in potions. I wouldn't do that to someone."

"Well, I suppose."

"'Kay, just let me know when he wants to do it." Harry snagged a scallop from Draco's plate.

"What will you want in return?" Draco seemed quite serious.

"His soul," Harry quipped. "I dunno, he hasn't really beaten anyone up since we were third years, so I don't have to ask him to stop that. I don't mind doing it, it's not a big deal."

"A decent mark in Defense would be a big deal to Vincent," Draco said. "He's completely lost even on the basics."

Harry felt himself go serious. "He's still your friend? Still would protect you if it came to it? Even with your family disconnecting from the Death Eaters?"

"Yes. Vincent and Gregory are on my side, always." Draco was so sure, it made Harry think of his own friends, how no matter what, if Harry was in real trouble, he knew they'd be there.

"Then I'd better make sure his defense skills are up to snuff."

#

Harry assumed Draco would want them to meet in the Room of Requirement, but Draco hissed at Harry to not let on about the secret sex room just as Crabbe walked into the empty classroom Draco had found.

Harry expected Goyle to be the one trailing after, but instead, it was Theodore Nott.

Harry immediately caught Draco throwing glares at Nott and stiffened. Was Nott an actual wannabe Death Eater? If so, why would Draco bring him here?

But Nott cast Harry a friendly smile and stuck out his hand. "Call me Theo. Draco says you're a patient teacher."

"I did not say that," scowled Draco.

Crabbe glanced between the two boys with a wary look.

"Did you want some help in Defense too then?" Harry glanced at Crabbe to see if maybe the reason Draco minded Theo's company was because Crabbe was embarrassed. Harry couldn't be sure, but Crabbe didn't seem bothered to him.

Theo grinned. "Oh yes. I'm really struggling and I'm a very eager student."

Draco snorted, arms crossed as he dropped into a desk in the corner.

"Alright then." Harry cast an odd look at Draco. "I'll start with foundational stuff and we can build from there."

The next few hours were spent on the most basic defensive spells. Crabbe was clearly behind, not able to do a single one, but seemed to really just need someone to walk him through all the steps. He needed it all broken down, from the verbalization of the spell and the wand movements to the purpose of the spell and the intention needed to fuel it.

Theo simply had trouble with wand movement and wouldn't be able to get it until Harry took Theo's wand hand and moved it in the right pattern. But Theo kept backing into Harry with an, "Oops, did I bump into you again?" and he wasn't sure if it was some passive-aggressive thing or him being genuinely clumsy.

Every time, Draco absolutely fumed.

At the end of the lesson, Crabbe had successfully performed a shield charm every time he tried it. He grabbed Harry's hand and pumped it hard enough it almost knocked Harry off his feet. "Thank you. Thank you."

With a wince, Harry removed his hand from the vice-grip and shook it out. "If you want to meet again, we can work on the disarming charm next."

Crabbe absolutely beamed and moved to shake Harry's hand again, but Harry patted him on the shoulder instead.

Theo sidled up, nudging Crabbe out of the way. He took Harry's hand in both of his but didn't shake it, just sort of held it in a way that made Harry feel awkward. "If there's any way I can repay you, just let me know, alright? Any way." He winked.

"Erm…okay."

Draco seized Harry's sleeve and tugged him toward the door. "Let's go, Potter,"

In the hall on the way to the Room of Requirement, Harry tugged his sleeve from Draco's grasp. "What? Crabbe did really well but you seem ready to pitch a fit."

"Well you seemed ready to let Theo have his way with you!"

Harry's shoes squeaked on the floor as he almost tripped over himself. "What? I was tutoring him!"

"Trouble with his wand movements? Come on! You didn't actually fall for that. And what do you do but spoon his horny arse!" Draco huffed.

"I think you're overreacting just a tad." A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest. "It bothers you?"

"Of course it bothers me, Potter!" Draco snapped. "Next time that oversexed bastard gets near you, try establishing a boundary instead of just turning him on."

Harry couldn't imagine being responsible for anyone getting turned on. He eyed the side of Draco's face as he stomped beside him. Did he turn Draco on?

"I didn't know that's what he was doing, you know. I was just trying to teach him."

Draco snorted. "Theo doesn't need an ounce of help in Defense. Didn't you notice how he kept backing his arse into you? Or his little offer at the end to repay you in 'any way'?"

Harry blinked. "Er, I thought he was very thankful?"

Draco finally seemed to relax a little. "Well this solves the mystery of why you think nobody's shown interest in sleeping with you. Thankful? Merlin's beard, Potter. You've got people rutting against you and you're just ah, what an interesting way to show your appreciation. What else have you been oblivious to?"

"Oh shut it. Maybe that should be a lesson. How to tell if someone is flirting with you. And maybe how to tell if they really fancy you versus just wanting a snog."

"A snog," Draco scoffed, pacing in front of the tapestry until the Room of Requirement door appeared and they ducked inside. As Draco walked toward the couch, a glass of something pink and fizzy appeared on the side table and he grabbed it up as he passed. "Nobody just fancies a snog from you Potts. They either want to date you, or they want your arse. And let me tell you, if they're from Slytherin, like Theo, it's the latter."

Harry frowned, sitting on the couch next to Draco. "All Slytherins?"

"Slytherins don't date in the way Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs do, Potter. We don't cuddle. We don't share our deepest secrets with each other. The mere thought of handholding makes us want to vomit. We shag. If it's with one person for a long time, that's dating to a Slytherin, but that doesn't mean we care about each other, it doesn't mean we're going to run away together and confess our undying love, it doesn't even mean we're not going to drop that person as soon as a better one comes along."

"Even you?"

"Especially me." Draco sipped the fizzy drink and then frowned. "Not the same without alcohol."

Harry's good spirits deflated a little. Obviously they weren't dating. It was just snogging lessons.

Only…it hadn't felt like just snogging lessons in a while. Not to Harry. That was probably because Harry had no experience, but it had just all felt like…more.

"Then why do you care about Theo flirting with me?" he asked, genuinely confused.

Draco's drink stilled partway to his mouth. "What?"

Harry scratched an eyebrow uncomfortably. "Well, if Slytherins and, you especially, don't actually care about anything but shagging, then why were you so pissed off?"

Draco tilted his head, smirking a little. "Potts, are you asking if I fancy you?"

Harry's face burned. "No! No. It's just, we're not shagging and you're still…here."

Draco looked suddenly tense. "Do you want me to be?" he said slowly.

Harry didn't want to say. He wanted to play it cool and act like he didn't really care one way or the other. That way there would be absolutely no chance Draco and his friends would laugh about him behind his back.

But he gathered up his Gryffindor courage because he couldn't lose this if he had a chance not to. "Yeah."

Draco sagged back against the couch and grinned. "Of course you do. I'm a bloody good teacher."

Harry rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure Draco just getting a kick out of teaching him how to snog really accounted a lot over the past few weeks, but he didn't want to push his luck by asking any more about it. But he couldn't help one more question. "Are you doing this with anyone else?"

"Snogging lessons? Do you think I should start a class?"

"Snogging period."

Draco blinked, as if the answer was a surprise even to him. "I'm, er, on a hiatus from making out with other people at this moment."

"Well that doesn't sound cagey at all."

Draco sighed in exasperation. "I haven't snogged anyone else lately. Not because I couldn't. I'm just bored with the lot of them. There are plenty of people who want me to be snogging them and a whole lot more. They're probably crying themselves to sleep right now."

Harry practically smashed their lips together. He wanted to make Draco absolutely sure that his choice to be a monogamous snogger was the right one.

Draco kissed Harry's neck and then moved up his jaw and to his lips where he kissed him more even more deeply. Their legs folded into one another's.

Heart thudding and feeling very, very nervous, Harry risked slipping his hand up the back of Draco's shirt until his fingers brushed smooth skin.

Draco pulled back and searched Harry's eyes. "Oh? It's up the shirt time?"

Harry's face flamed. "Don't be a prat," he muttered.

Draco grinned wickedly, eyes bright. He watched Harry's face as he ran his hand up the front of Harry's shirt, fingers brushing over Harry's stomach.

Harry swallowed heavily.

Then their lips crashed together and it was hands on skin and all thought fell away except for what everything felt like. Harry hadn't been touched much in his life—the rare hugs from Hermione, a thump on the back from Ron here and there. But this…Draco's hands seemed to trail heat everywhere they touched. Harry whimpered into Draco's mouth before he caught himself.

And Harry explored back. Draco's skin was so smooth and warm and Harry wanted to touch every last bit of it that he could. It felt too much and not enough all at the same time.

Draco pushed Harry back on the couch and Harry ran his hands all the way up to Draco's shoulder blades, holding onto him. Draco's body slid between Harry's legs.

Draco pressed his groin into Harry's.

Harry gasped, not knowing how to handle the sparks that exploded through him.

Draco's eyes fluttered closed and he groaned. He gripped Harry's hip and ground against him.

Harry's fingers dug into Draco's shoulder. God. God it felt incredible. Better than flying.

Maybe he could just let go. Just let the heat build and build and finally experience what this part was like with another person. Maybe he could, for once, let himself have this.

A sudden image filled his head. Slytherins in the hallway, mocking the way he was sounding right now. Mimicking the faces he made when he lost control.

He pulled his mouth away from Draco's. "Wait. Wait. I—Not that Not yet."

Draco's hips stilled and he rested his forehead against Harry's. "Okay." He pulled off of Harry, sitting back on the couch, chest heaving.

Harry flopped his head back, eyes closed, catching his breath. "What hoop was that?" He'd explained the concept of sexual bases to Draco a few weeks back, but admitted he didn't know what some of them they were. Draco had tried to make his own version with quidditch hoops.

Draco burst out laughing and squeezed Harry's thigh. "You've barely made it onto the pitch, Potter." There was a glimmer in his eyes. "Did you like it?"

Harry's face flamed. "You can't just ask that."

Draco's eyes glittered with amusement. "You're supposed to ask a lot of questions. That's how you make sure everyone's having a good time."

Harry pushed himself up, eyeing Draco hesitantly. "Well, did you like it?"

"Yes, Potts, I liked it. There's a lot more where that came from."

Harry tensed. That's what Draco was hoping for. That they would be shagging soon. Obviously, he'd want that. Sexually speaking, he'd been racing around on a Firebolt and was now being forced to putter along on a Shooting Star. Maybe not even that. Maybe being with Harry was like watching everyone else soar around you while you were stuck on the ground, hand over a broom, calling "up" and hoping something would happen.

Draco must have seen the look on his face. Hand still on Harry's thigh, he waggled his leg back and forth. "I didn't mean today, Potter. You can relax."

They both looked over as a coffee table with two steaming plates of food appeared in front of them.

Harry checked the clock. "We missed dinner."

Draco seemed unconcerned, grabbing up a fork and smelling the dish in front of him. "This room is hands-down the best part of the castle."

Harry, though, was more uneasy. His friends were definitely going to ask where he'd been.

He wouldn't think about that now. He could just say he got caught up practicing Defense on his own.

Of course, Draco had told his friends. It seemed fair that Harry would tell his.

Not yet. Soon. When he'd figured out how.