4

Harry was grateful for detention on Monday. His housemates had been watching him like a bunch of vultures since Sunday morning.

Ron had tried interrogating him, but Hermione cut him off with a prim, "Obviously if Harry wanted to share, he would have, Ron. He can tell us when he's ready."

For all her moral high ground about giving him privacy, though, every time they passed someone Hermione thought was a potential suspect, her eyes darted between them and Harry, like she was trying to put the puzzle together.

It made it very obvious who Hermione thought were contenders. A few Gryffindors had drawn her curiosity but were quickly dismissed. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were who dominated her hunt. Harry also noticed Hermione's gaze only darted to the boys even though Harry had always dodged questions about who he was attracted to. She'd given him a lot of general lectures about how there weren't the same taboos about sexuality as in the Muggle world, so Harry wasn't surprised she'd figured it out.

When it was time for Harry to leave for detention, he'd been tense as hell. This was when his face would give it away, he just knew it.

But Hermione had settled into her Arithmancy textbook, figuring there were no more possible clues left in the day. After all, Harry was going to detention with Snape and Draco Malfoy. No Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs to make out with down there.

It was their last week of detention, actually. Only, Harry was toying with the idea of telling his housemates he'd gotten some weeks added on. Snape giving Harry detention every weeknight for the rest of his natural born life wouldn't raise any eyebrows and then Harry could head to the dungeons without anyone freaking out. They already assumed his detentions had started lasting well into the night, explaining why Harry returned from them so late.

When he walked in, Draco was already leaning against a desk with crossed arms while Snape banged around in the storeroom. He straightened when he saw Harry, his smirk turning extra devious.

"How you feeling?" he whispered with a waggle of his eyebrow.

Harry came up next to Draco, keeping his voice down. "Your pink drink is an abomination."

"If I recall, you were the bartender who invented that concoction."

"You've seen me in potions. You should have known better than to let me have at the drinks table."

"I personally found my new pink drink to be a delight."

Harry cut off a groan as Snape swept into the room.

Snape glared sternly at them. "If either of you even thinks about fighting rather than scrubbing this place until it glistens in the candlelight, I will pull you both from Quidditch practices to mop the dungeon cells."

After he stormed out, Draco turned to Harry with a wagging finger. "Did you hear that, Potter. Don't you think about fighting with me or I will have you chained into the dungeon sex manacles. The Bloody Baron will be thrilled."

Harry laughed, grabbing up a rag from the bucket. "As long as you don't force pink drink down me while I'm defenseless."

"Oh yes. There will be pink drink and there will be body shots. That's where I lick salt off your neck before I drink tequila."

Harry eyed him suspiciously. "Is that a real thing?"

"Oh yes. You'll learn more about that in N.E.W.T.-level lessons."

Harry was already wiping down tables. He put a hand to his chest. "Really, professor, you think I have what it takes to get into Advanced Debauchery?"

Draco tapped his chin. "We shall see how you do on your O.W.L.s. You'll have to make sure to study very hard."

Harry put down his rag and walked up to Draco. "I should probably practice then."

Draco took Harry's face in his hands and touched their noses together, his hot breath on Harry's mouth. "Very wise. Thankfully, you have an instructor willing to be generous with his time."

#

Lying in front of the fire in the Room of Requirement, Draco studied Harry, wondering if he could just ask him directly what was on his mind.

Harry had been fine with Draco's hands wandering up his shirt, his breath hitching in ways that made Draco crazy, but when Draco had tried to tug Harry's shirt off, Harry had frozen up, a panicked look crossing his face. Draco knew that look well by now. It meant Harry wasn't ready but he didn't want to admit it out loud.

So Draco had left his shirt alone even though it seemed rather ridiculous. It was just a shirt. What was the big deal?

He'd seen it over and over. Harry would start sinking into feeling good and then just freeze up and put the brakes on. There was something in his eyes that almost looked scared. There were times when Draco was sure Harry was trying to suppress making any noise at all.

Draco didn't understand it. Draco himself had been eager as all hell when it came to sex. He and Pansy had shown each other all their body parts before they'd even hit puberty and the second they had, they'd wasted no time in exploring how to make those body parts feel as good as they possibly could.

He'd assumed as soon as Harry realized how it all felt, things would progress quickly. He'd assumed they'd be shagging by now.

There were pureblood families who touted values about purity and waiting until marriage, he wasn't a stranger to that. Daphne Greengrass enjoyed messing around, but flashed her purity ring if anyone got near her knickers. Marcus Flint had one too, but he was a lot more holier than thou about it. In fact, Theo might have one somewhere, probably hidden away in a drawer. Merlin knew that had been a wasted effort on his parents' part.

But Harry had denied wanting to wait until he was married. At the beginning of all of this, he'd said he'd consider shagging a Muggle.

He didn't need a Muggle, though. Draco was obviously here and willing. And Harry wanted more than what they were doing. Draco knew he did. Saw the flash of want before the alarm overtook it.

Harry caught him watching. "What?"

Draco hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes…" Harry said warily.

"Why does sex make you so nervous?"

Harry's whole body stiffened and his cheeks went red.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want," Draco said carefully.

Harry stared at his fiddling hands so long, Draco started to think he wouldn't answer. Maybe he'd tell Draco to mind his own business.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh. "I…I worry about people talking about me. Laughing at me. I can't really get that out of my head."

Draco wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that was not it. "You really think people will be scandalized if they find out you've had sex? Everyone else is having sex. It's more scandalous that you haven't."

"Not just whether I have or haven't."

"So…what are you worried about then?"

Harry winced. "Look, if people are making my life miserable because they think I'm the heir of Slytherin or that I put my name in the Goblet of Fire, it already sucks. But if it was about something I did in private with someone else, something I already uncomfortable about, I don't know if I could handle that."

Draco tried to understand, but he wasn't following. "What, you think they'd make Potter's Not a Virgin badges?"

"No. Not like that." He rubbed his forehead. "Alright, so, summer after fourth year, my cousin's friends were over and they were talking about this girl who'd uh, given his friend Piers um, a blow job."

Draco wanted to tease Harry for being so clearly uncomfortable saying "blow job," but the words died. Harry stared at the rug, expression pained.

"He described every face she made. Mimicked noises she made. Told them every way she wasn't good at it. They all laughed; called her horrible things. They joked that Piers should just fuck her next time because she had less chance of screwing that up."

Draco recoiled. "That's repugnant."

Harry nodded, gaze still on the carpet. "I just thought, this poor girl has no idea these fuckwits are absolutely punishing her for doing something Piers wanted her to do. And she couldn't take it back. Piers could say all that stuff and there was nothing she'd be able to do. I don't want that to be me. I don't want to ever walk down the halls and have people mimicking some noise I made back at me."

Draco stared, stunned. That was what Harry imagined every time a moan came out of his mouth? "Merlin, Potter. Do you really think people here are that brutal? Your cousin and his friends are obviously arseholes and maybe talking like that about people is common in the Muggle world, but have you ever heard people doing that to each other here?"

"Maybe they don't do it to each other, but they'd do it to me."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "So, the whole school's fumbling around together respectfully, but the second you do it, people are going to turn sadistic?"

Harry shot him a sharp look "Hey, don't act like I'm being paranoid. It already happened. I know you remember the Teen Witch article about me and Cho Chang."

Draco's mouth snapped shut. He remembered. The one about Harry's failed "relationship" with Cho Chang. According to a source, the Boy Who Lived had been a dreadful boyfriend—of course, now Draco knew "boyfriend" had been quite the stretch. They article had accused Harry of treating Cho dismissively, that he was "self-absorbed" and a "dull kisser."

Harry glared at his hands. "I couldn't ever look at Cho again after it. She apologized, said she didn't talk to the reporter, that her friend did, but who cares? I had to find out what she thought through people making fun of me about it. I admit, the date wasn't very good, I didn't know what I was doing, but I'd thought the kiss was nice. And then…well, the point is, I know what it's like to have people laugh at me in the halls while people yell out snogging pointers."

Harry was being delicate because they both knew that the "people" definitely included Draco. He never would have guessed the article was describing Harry's only sexual experience. Of course, if he had known, Merlin he would have tortured Harry over that. "I'm sorry. Really. I wouldn't do that now, obviously. And for what it's worth, you are neither self-absorbed nor a dull kisser."

Harry shrugged a shoulder. "You weren't the only one. It was my fault for being stupid enough to not see that article coming."

"That's ridiculous. You shouldn't expect every fumble with someone to blow up into a news story. If you expected that, you'd never—"

Right.

"After Cho, I would think about the kiss and what I could have done differently, but then I'd think, what if I'd done it differently and she'd thought it was even worse and that's the story that had been written? Now, when I do anything with you, I can't get that out of my head. It's like having a Quidditch commentator in the back of my head questioning everything I'm doing. It makes it hard to relax."

Draco wasn't sure how to take all of this. It made sense, but… "Potter, I know I've been a real dick on occasion, but do you really think I'm going to go telling people about what we do together?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it. "I've done more with you than I've ever done with anyone. You've never made me feel bad about any of it. You've made me feel really good about it, actually. It…sometimes it seems impossible."

Draco wanted to be offended that Harry didn't trust him not to be an absolute, disgusting shit.

But he had been a bit of a shit in the past, hadn't he? The first time Draco had kissed him in detention, he'd laughed at Harry. Harry must have walked through the halls the next morning braced for the worst.

Harry risked a look at him. "I know you're probably bored. If you don't want to do this anymore, I get it."

"I'm not bored, you idiot." He almost blurted that all he looked forward to each day was getting Harry alone, but the truth of that statement made him uneasy in a way he didn't want to examine. "Listen, Potter. I'll never use anything we do together to hurt you, alright? Sexual or otherwise. Even if this all goes to shit some day and I'm angry, I'll still never do that. I swear it. All of this is between you and me and no one else."

Harry sucked in a breath. He looked like he wanted to believe it so badly.

Draco crawled over to Harry in front of the fire. "Let's just keep making you feel good."

He ducked his head down and kissed Harry. Much more gently than he would admit to.

#

After Harry left the Room of Requirement, he wandered a little, lost in thought. He couldn't completely believe he'd told Draco all that stuff. He'd never said any of that to Hermione or Ron. He didn't talk about sex at all with his friends. Once, Seamus had mentioned wanking and Harry had almost choked on a chocolate frog. His dormmates had teased him about it for months, all bringing up wanking in the middle of casual conversation, and laughing when Harry stiffened.

"No dick-touching talk around Harry," Ron had laughed, slinging and arm over his shoulders. "And you better not break it to him about orgasms or he's going to melt straight into the ground."

He'd never known how to handle any of it. Even with his dormmates. Even with people he trusted, he just couldn't get past the mental image of a news article dropping onto the breakfast table with the title, Boy Who Lived Admits He Enjoys Wanking.

He knew it had gotten unhealthy. He'd avoided every conversation about sex for so long, the whole thing had become a mystery. He'd caused himself to miss out on an important education everyone else had gotten and it had made everything worse. Even Hermione and Dean didn't get flustered around sex talk anymore. When they were younger, the three of them had all been wide-eyed and blushing at the way their wizard-raised classmates talked so openly about it.

Now it was only Harry. Now when sex stuff came up, he felt that same terror as when he was a first year, lined up for what he thought was a magic test—watched by a sea of eyes, about to fail spectacularly and prove he was a freak.

Draco hadn't made him feel like a freak. He'd just…made it seem okay that Harry wanted to go slow.

He wandered into the Gryffindor common room, and was broken from is thoughts by a wolf-whistle from Seamus.

Seamus jumped up from the couch and pointed a finger directly at Harry. "I knew it! Look at you. You look good and shagged!"

Harry froze as every Gryffindor in the common room, which included everyone in his year and a smattering of those in other years, looked his way.

He took a stumbling step backward.

Hermione ran up to him and grabbed his hands in hers. "Oh Harry! Please don't be embarrassed. You've seemed so happy lately. I'm so pleased for you."

"I don't know what you're…."

"Don't even try it," Ron threatened. "If you say you're not seeing anyone, the only option you leave us with is that you're shagging yourself."

Harry blushed crimson as the group broke into snickers.

"Fine, maybe I'm seeing someone," Harry muttered and headed swiftly toward the stairs.

Parvati blocked his way, arms crossed and feet planted firmly. "Don't bloody think about it. We've been waiting for days for you to tell us who you've been sneaking off with. We've ruled out Gryffindor."

Dean stood, glancing at Parvati uneasily. "Hey, we should let Harry tell us when he's ready. It's none of our business."

Lavender squealed and clapped. "It's someone from another quidditch team, isn't it? A little friendly rivalry turned into something more?"

Draco technically was from another quidditch team, but he very much doubted Lavender meant Slytherin.

Neville caught his eye and mouthed, "Karl Limpley?" Karl was in their herbology class and now Harry was examining every vague memory he had of his interactions with the tall, lanky Hufflepuff to figure out why Neville thought of him.

Maybe he should just nod. Karl would probably be a fine choice.

But he shook that thought off. Karl would probably be extremely creeped out if Harry spread a rumor that they were dating.

Harry reluctantly moving into the tighter circle of Gryffindors from his year, glancing uneasily over his shoulder at a group of seventh years watching curiously. He lowered his voice. "Look, I don't really want to tell you. You're not going to like it."

Dean gave him a significant look. "You know this is a safe space, Harry. I know Muggles don't always approve of all kinds of relationships, but we have your back. And I say, you tell us when you're ready."

Ron looked like a revelation was dawning on him. "That's why you don't want to tell us? Because it's a guy?"

Parvati dropped back onto the couch next to Lavender. "Oh, Harry, we all already know you're into boys."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed, crossing his arms. It was like being the subject of that magazine again. Does The Boy Who Lived like boys or girls? Take the poll!

Dean glared at Parvati and she shrugged. "Sorry, after being his Yule Ball date, it was kind of obvious."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry demanded. "Ron was a horrible date too!"

"Hey!"

"Yes, but Ron was staring at Hermione the whole time. You were trying very hard not to stare at that particularly gorgeous Durmstrang boy. It was rather adorable." Parvati quirked her head thoughtfully. "Not that I could blame you. He had a fit arse."

Harry blushed horrendously. "I was not," he protested meekly.

"So it's not a bloke?" Ron asked in confusion.

"Well, yeah, it's a bloke," Harry admitted.

"You know I support that!" Seamus said merrily, squeezing Dean's thigh. He patted the couch next to him. "Just sit down and tell us the dirt! Who is the lucky man?"

Harry didn't sit down. He crossed his arms tightly, glancing at the tower staircase and wondering if he should just refuse and go hide there. But it didn't seem very Gryffindor-y. Draco had paraded Harry right through the Slytherin party and introduced Harry to all of his friends. Harry was being a coward. He took a deep breath. "The part you guys are going to hate isn't that he's a bloke. "

Hermione squeezed his hand. "Harry, as long as you're happy, we're happy,"

Ron snorted. "Yeah, it's not like it's Malfoy."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't. He simply stood there helplessly as his friends' expressions slowly changed from amusement to confusion.

Hermione dropped his hand. She blinked rapidly, those wheels clicking and, apparently, failing her. "Malfoy? That's impossible. Harry hates Malfoy. He's the reason they've been in detention for—"

There. The wheels stopped clicking. Her eyes went wide.

Neville laughed awkwardly, brows knitted. "That's dumb. Harry would never..."

Unable to find the appropriate response, Harry simply winced apologetically.

Silence settled over the group.

Parvati was the first to clear her throat. "Well, you make an attractive couple, that's for sure."

Harry just stared pleadingly at his two best friends. Hermione's hurt gaze was bad enough. Ron looked like he'd just taken a bludger to the face. "He's changed, really. He's been—"

"Don't," Ron snarled. "Just don't, Harry."

The rest of them watched with open mouths, but Harry felt desperation welling up. He stepped toward Ron. "Ron, please, hear me out."

"Malfoy?! Malfoy?! How could you?" Ron seethed through his teeth.

The other people in the common room gaped in their direction.

"Oi Ron, don't give him a hard time," Seamus said uncomfortably.

"Shut up, Seamus," Ron snapped, eyes flashing with hurt. "Malfoy's never personally attacked you like he does my family and my girlfriend all the bloody time. And instead of defending us, our supposed best friend is sucking the guy off."

Harry paled. Even Lavender and Parvati, who had been smirking, turned serious.

"It's not like that. Ron, please—" Harry grabbed his arm as Ron tried to storm past, but the redhead shoved him away furiously.

"Don't touch me! Now I know where you've been," he spat, then stormed up the Gryffindor stairs.

Harry's knees felt weak. He turned to Hermione, but even she, who had always been there for him, wouldn't meet his eye. "I have to think about this, Harry," she said quietly. "I just can't understand it."

"Let me explain," Harry begged.

"I can't. I…need some time." She jerked to her feet and collected her books. "And I hope you think about it too, Harry. Consider what he's done. Is this more important to you than your friendships?"

Harry forgot how to breathe. "You and Ron are my best friends, Hermione. This doesn't change that."

Hermione whirled on him. "It's Malfoy! How do you think you can just carry on with him and expect everything to be the same? After the things he's said to me? To Ron? If you think it's okay to see him, I feel like I don't even know who you are anymore."

She strode stiffly out the portal to the common room, probably to the library.

Harry used to have a nightmare like this over and over as a first year. One where the first friends he'd ever had would suddenly realize who he really was and reject him. In that dream, they always looked at him with those same looks of disgust.

Numbly, he looked to the rest of his dormmates, bracing himself. Seamus and the girls looked uncomfortable but sympathetic. Dean still seemed to be in shock, mouth hanging open. Neville though, looked upset.

"You too then, Neville?"

Neville turned his head pointedly away from Harry. "He's horrible, Harry. You've watched him cut me down since first year."

Harry's voice sounded desperate, even to him. "But not this year, right? Not since early fifth year. We were all young and caught up in house rivalries, weren't we? We called them things too. I know that doesn't change—"

Neville shook his head and ducked past Harry, heading out the portal too. He was probably off to find Ginny.

Ginny. Who probably had the worst reason out of everyone to hate Draco after Lucius Malfoy slipped her that diary in her second year.

"Er, well, not to make this more awkward, but really, Harry, what's going to happen the next time the Slytherins start laying into us? Where are you going to stand?" Seamus asked, though Harry got the sense the Irish boy didn't expect him to answer right then.

"Shut up, Seamus," Dean snapped. "I told you to leave it alone." He turned to Harry. "It's going to be alright. It will."

Harry's head buzzed as Parvati and Lavender offered assurances that they, at least, thought Malfoy was very attractive while Dean and Seamus broke into a whispered argument.

Harry just stood there, feeling a rising sense of horror.

#

Draco sauntered into the Slytherin common room, spotting Crabbe and Goyle arm wrestling, once again, on the table. He headed over and gave a group of third years sitting on one of the couches the nod to vacate so he could flop across his preferred spot on the couch. Normally, they would scram without question.

But they didn't move.

"Go on. Shove off," Draco said impatiently.

But the three of them merely crossed their arms and lifted their chins in defiance. "Why don't you get your Gryffindor boyfriend to make us move?"

Crabbe and Goyle stopped arm wrestling to stare.

Draco stilled. His voice dropped and he loomed over them dangerously. "What did you say to me?"

A voice cut over from the chess table. "She said she only moves for Slytherins who have self-respect. Not some wanker who's been neutered by a Gryffindor virgin." Graham Montague, a fifth year who had trailed after Draco for years, even styling his hair the same, was sneering at him.

Draco's wand was in his hand in an instant. Goyle got to Montague first, hauling him out of his chair by the collar. "You say that again."

Montague clawed at Goyle's hands. "Get off me, you great oaf."

Flora Carrow, head girl, stomped over. "Enough."

Goyle grunted and released Montague's robes.

Flora peered down her nose at Draco. "It is a shame, though. A Malfoy drooling like a lovestruck Hufflepuff. But the Malfoys don't value dignity too highly anymore, do they?"

Draco seethed. He'd always been untouchable in Slytherin. He was Draco Malfoy. Sex god. Ice prince. Pureblood heir. He practically owned the common room.

But now, he was surrounded by a sea of judging stares. "The Malfoys refuse to kneel down and kiss someone else's robes. Perhaps there's a lesson there about dignity, Carrow."

Carrow's parents were Death Eaters and the Carrow twins were surely getting the mark soon if they hadn't already.

"From where I'm standing, looks like now that the Dark Lord isn't too happy with the Malfoys, you're ducking behind the Boy Who Lived for protection."

Montague looked uncomfortable now. His own parents had gone into hiding only a few weeks ago.

Adrien Pucey, the Slytherin chaser piped up from where he'd been studying. "I think we all figured your plan was to get Potter to trust you, do a little Golden Boy-deflowering, and then toss him on his wounded arse."

There was a maliciousness to his words that filled Draco with an ominous feeling.

Cassius Warrington, the other Slytherin chaser, shrugged. "I'm just embarrassed for you," he said Draco's way. "Your father was a legend—didn't take any shit from anyone. Could lay you down with an arch of an eyebrow. You were our generation's Lucius Malfoy, but the fun party version. You took Potter head on, but you also knew how to have a good time with pride. Now your father's scampered off like a little rabbit into a hole and you've turned into a melting little cream puff under Potter's spell. The mighty are falling."

Draco glanced around for allies. Crabbe and Goyle only knew how to throw fists, which wasn't what he needed right now. Pansy wasn't there. Damn it. She'd teach these fucks a lesson.

Blaise watched. Normally, Draco could count on him to step in on something like this, but they hadn't talked since Harry hexed him at the party. Now, Blaise watched on in something like sick satisfaction.

Draco stared around at the crowd of judging eyes. He'd thought Harry was being paranoid, but he'd been right. He'd been fucking right.

Only, Harry had been prepared for this. Draco hadn't. Not at all.

Draco tried to pretend he thought this was all idiotic. "I'm sorry you all have your knickers in a twist over me venturing to other houses to find entertainment. Believe me, I haven't changed. I'm still looking for fun. It's not my fault you lot are so boring."

To Draco's surprise, Blaise's arm slung over his shoulders. He snorted. "It sounds to me like we have a lot of jealous people in Slytherin. None of you have ever been able to seduce a Gryffindor before, not even an insecure runty one. Then our Draco goes and hooks Harry fucking Potter and you're all acting like that isn't the juiciest score in Slytherin history."

One of the third years in Draco's seat pointed a finger at him. "But he likes Potter."

Blaise eyed her with derision and worked his voice into a mocking whine. "Oh he likes Potter? Why would Draco fucking Malfoy tell a shitty little diaper-wearing third year about his plans for Potter? You think Draco even cares that you exist? Move out of his fucking spot. Now."

Draco wasn't sure about the implication that he was using Potter. Maybe he should correct it.

But the third years scrambled to vacate and the tide of the room shifted imperceptibly. Carrow rolled her eyes, and Pucey and Warrington muttered something to each other Draco was sure wasn't flattering, and everyone went back to their business.

Draco felt a surge of gratitude. This was why he and Blaise were friends. Blaise was the ultimate sweet talker. He'd gotten them into and out of all sorts of situations they laughed about now.

Montague approached them, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't realize you had a plan for Potter. It's just, with our families in the same situation, I think it's more important than ever that people are intimidated by you, you know? Make us look good so we don't look weak."

Draco squinted at him with an expression of confusion. "…What was your name again?"

Montague's face reddened before he slunk away in embarrassment.

Draco sat in his usual spot and Blaise flopped down next to him.

"I'm surprised you came to my defense." Draco was still reeling from the fact that he'd needed Blaise to come to his defense.

Blaise flapped a hand dismissively. "What, I'm going to let that little incident with your boy toy get between us? Do you remember what my date did to you after the Yule Ball?"

Draco groaned. "Vomit soaked through my robes, Blaise." He sobered. "But I didn't try to fondle your date."

Blaise threw his head back with a groan. "I knowwww. Pansy has already given me a lecture, believe me. It was just a joke. And Theo gave me the impression Potter might be interested in having some fun with more Slytherins than just you."

"Theo is begging for my leftovers, not trying to snatch my dinner out from under my fork." Draco didn't say that he also didn't think that as shameless as Theo was, he would ever grab someone without their permission like that.

Blaise held up his palms. "I know. I'm sorry. Won't happen again."

Draco relaxed a little.

Blaise put a hand on Draco's knee. He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "Just be careful, Draco. That little shit, Montague, is actually right. Now is not the time for people to think you've gone soft."

"I haven't," Draco snapped.

"Then go sleep with someone if you can't have sex with Potter. Prove you're not, I don't know, in love with him or something." Blaise's nose scrunched.

Draco gaped. "Me? In love with Potter? Have people lost their goddamn minds?"

Blaise shrugged with his eyebrows and snatched a muffin out of the hand of a passing second year, ignoring their indignant, Hey!. "I'm telling you. What just happened…if they don't start believing you're just toying with Potter, it won't be the last time."

#

All through their last day of detention, Draco was in a mood. The incident in the common room had shaken him more than he wanted to admit.

Snape stalked around, wiping his finger over surfaces, dallying, as far as Draco could tell.

Finally, Snape looked down his nose at them. "I hope this has discouraged you from any further displays of immaturity in my classroom."

"Displays of immaturity? It was Pot—"

Harry elbowed him. "Yes sir."

"Yes sir," Draco mumbled.

"Dismissed."

On the way to the Room of Requirement, Harry said, "I told my friends."

Draco could tell from the kicked puppy tone that it had not gone well. "How characteristic that they're uptight about it. What did you say that set them off so badly?"

Harry sighed. "Not much. They wouldn't let me explain."

"They didn't want to hear about how the two of us, sworn enemies, got to be snogging buddies? My friends demanded every detail."

"My friends are sort of hung up on the sworn enemies part."

Draco did the annoying pacing in front of the entrance to open up their room. "Well thank Merlin someone still sees me as your enemy."

Harry followed him in. "Why is that good?"

With the door shut behind them, Draco felt a little more at ease. He flopped across the couch. "Because being your enemy has some dignity to it. Apparently, some people have gotten it into their thick heads that I'm some love-struck lapdog you're trotting around like a prize."

He half-expected Harry to laugh or get that soppy look on his face at the term love-struck. But instead, he frowned. "That's not true."

"Obviously! And yet I have third years looking down their noses at me. Apparently, because we're not fucking, it means I've shamed the Slytherin house."

Harry looked startled. "How do they even know what we are or aren't doing?"

"You still turn red every time a Slytherin mentions sex and I haven't left you chained to the dungeon manacles, so unless we're planning to lie about it, I'd say it doesn't take a mastermind to figure it out." Draco grumbled, "Besides, Theo has a big mouth. He has a rather lecherous take on your lack of experience."

Harry was taken aback. "Theo? But he's been so nice."

"He's not doing it maliciously. He's like an excited puppy with little sense for decorum. I can't imagine anyone more eager to hear details of your future deflowering if they become available." At Harry's alarmed look, he rolled his eyes. "Not through me. Itold you, I won't tell people details. So…are your friends miffed that I'm a Slytherin or that I'm me."

Harry lifted Draco's feet and sat on the couch. Draco settled his legs over Harry's lap.

"Maybe both, but probably more that it's you. We haven't exactly gotten along over the years."

"I had to live up to being your sworn enemy. You did a nice job as well. Infuriated me pretty often, I must say."

Harry tried to smile but it looked half-arsed. "They think I'm a traitor. That I don't care about them or Ron's family because I'm dating the person that insulted them."

Draco stiffened. All the taunts from the common room roared into his head and he blurted. "Dating? We're not dating, Potter."

Harry stilled.

Draco tried to make a joke out of it, waving a hand airily. "Dating is for Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. You and I are way too fun to be dating."

But Harry didn't smile. "What are we then?"

Draco's stomach churned at the disheartened look on Harry' face. "I suppose…friends with benefits with an instructional overtone. We're, you know, having a good time. Casually."

"Right," Harry said distantly.

Draco pulled his feet off Harry's lap and sat up. "Hey, we both like what we've been doing, right? I'm going to be your N.E.W.T-level Debauchery instructor."

Harry turned to face him, his face harder than before. "Okay, so say I…pass my N.E.W.T. What were you thinking happens then?"

"You mean, after we have sex?"

"Sure. Or…however far you were thinking this would go. You do have that warped 'no virgins' policy we haven't talked about in a while."

Draco's mood soared. Harry was actually considering having sex with him. His policy…Merlin, Harry was the exact reason he had that policy. Harry wasn't going to shag Draco and then be over this whole thing. He'd want more. Commitment more.

But fuck. The images flooding into Draco's head. The bed Harry had fallen asleep in after the party—they'd have sex there first. He'd get to watch Harry's face as he was shagged for the first time. He'd be the first person with Harry as he felt what it was like.

And it wasn't like it had to be one and done. Harry would get more confident, just like he had with snogging. Now, when they made out, Harry gave as good as he got and Draco knew he'd been right about how Harry would be in bed.

He'd just make it clear it was shagging only. Well, shagging and hanging out together in this room. Draco needed that part.

The thought startled him. Obviously he didn't need it. It was just…nice. To have someone to talk to who understood things like Harry did.

"Draco?" Harry prompted.

"I can put aside my 'no virgins' policy for the benefit of your education. And…who knows, Potter. We don't have to think that far ahead. There is a ton more we can do to have fun after we cure you of your unfortunate virginity problem. We could stay after a match in the locker rooms until it's just the two of us and have sex in the showers. Next time Snape gives us detention, we can actually do something when we're all sweaty in his storage closet. Merlin, with your invisibility cloak, we could be shagging in every classroom in the bloody school."

Harry didn't look as turned on as Draco had hoped. He was quiet in a way that was starting to make Draco feel uneasy. He wished Harry would lighten up a little. "Come on, we'll have fun until we've gotten it out of our systems. When we get bored of it, we'll recommend each other to a friend."

Harry looked like Draco had punched him.

Draco sobered. "That was a joke."

But…why was it a joke? That's what he usually did, wasn't it?

Harry straightened. "Okay, now it's my turn to ask a question. Why are you so against dating?"

Draco sighed. "Look, one day, when I'm old and boring, I suppose I'll settle down and propagate the Malfoy bloodline and all that. My parents are in a very mutually beneficial partnership and I'm not blind to the advantages of catering to the expectations of society. But before that happens, I want to have as much fun as I can. Sew my wild oats and live a little. I want to drink. I want to shag. I want to go clubbing and make moderately bad decisions."

"You could do that stuff with a boyfriend," Harry said.

Draco shook his head. "Relationships are responsibilities. I don't want that any time soon."

"Relationships don't have to be all grim like that."

"Eh, not convinced on that. You'll see what I mean, Potts. At some point, you're going to have sex and realize it's meant to be fun. You're going to regret wasting so much time waiting for it to be perfect."

"I'm not waiting for it to be perfect," Harry said sharply.

"Oh?" Draco said flirtatiously. "Well then! Ready to advance your tutoring?"

Harry didn't look amused. "What are we even doing?"

The words had a sudden sobering effect on both of them.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Seriously, what are we doing? Everything we're doing is the opposite of what you want and I don't fancy being someone you shag between classes and don't otherwise give a crap about. We're taking shit from all sides for this and…what's the point?"

As Harry talked, panic hit Draco.

Harry was going to leave. He was going to walk out the door and this would be over. There would be no more snogging. No more laughing. No more lying in front of the fire, talking about things Draco didn't even discuss with Pansy or Blaise. Harry would just be someone he passed in classes.

Draco seized Harry's arm. "Shut up."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Draco kissed him with a weird kind of desperation. "Stop thinking."

"But—"

Draco kissed him more firmly this time, fingers curled around the back of Harry's head to hold him closer.

He pulled away again and Harry met him with a dazed look.

"You don't want to stop this, do you?" Draco heard the alarm in his own voice but couldn't hide it.

"No."

"Then don't change things. Stop thinking about it all and just…just stay in here with me. Okay?"

Harry sighed. "Okay."

Draco kissed Harry deeply, trying to make them both forget about everything and go back to laughing and feeling good and not thinking about what would happen next.

But they clung onto each other with a kind of desperation. It reminded Draco of falling off a broom and trying to grab on, fingers slipping off one by one.