FYI: I will upload 1 chapter per week and I anticipate this story to be anywhere between 40,000 to 50,000 words. Enjoy :3

Disclaimer: Characters and Harry Potter Universe belong to J.K. Rowling

Malfoy had been part of his life since Harry began attending Hogwarts. At first, he was the pointy nosed git spouting practiced insults at him to sooth a humiliating rejection. He grew into a taller, more handsome nemesis with smooth and hurtful words, coming at him naturally with more years of practice. Eventually, Harry watched him take on a darker role, one he had probably not entirely chosen of his own free will. Despite that suspicion, Harry had resented his rival for his role in the war. He'd hated what Malfoy had chosen as a path. He had hated him so much.

Harry was now in a corner watching the blond bastard seated haughtily in the common room of the returning Seventh Years (Eighth Years they were actually called now) arguing calmly with a fellow Slytherin about the proper way to brew the Helix draught, whatever that was. Harry still didn't pay attention to Potions much. He kept an eye on the teen, almost an adult now really, and a haunting question returned to his mind. Why wasn't he angry with Malfoy now? Where was that boiling hatred he'd felt that night in the astronomy tower, when Dumbledore had fallen to his doom? He thought for sure in would stay with him, perhaps grow into something so intense he'd want to punch his perfect straight nose into a crooked bloody mess.

He didn't understand it. Ron and Hermione had said to let it go, to move on. After all, the blond git wasn't picking fights anymore. Harry agreed that trying to be angry, and being perplexed by the fact that he wasn't, was a definite waste of time. He turned his head away from Malfoy and got up, deciding on a walk across the grounds. He wasn't going to make it back before curfew, so he grabbed his invisibility cloak before sneaking out.

There was something about the moon that night that made Harry feel more lonely than usual. It was full and pale, completely clear and alone in the sky. He watched its reflection dance on the school's lake for so long he started to imagine shapes in the mirrored silver flecks. Eventually, he caught himself thinking the silver glow was quite like a certain blond's irises; flickering and intense under the light of the common room's fire. Harry had been having more of these thoughts as of late. They worried him. They even transcended into his dreams sometimes, like they had two nights ago.

Harry shivered unpleasantly. In his dream, Malfoy had given him a black fluffy kitten and had said with a dark pointed glare:

"Potter, I don't care for kittens, even if they are named after you."

Harry felt oddly bitter at the memory of it. Why was Malfoy in his dream, giving him a dark ball of fluff with green eyes? And why was his subconscious suggesting in much hidden terms that Malfoy might care for him?

"I've gone mad" the teen grumbled while pulling at his incorrigible, messy black hair.

"You just need to sleep more" Hermione suggested when he told her about it at breakfast the next morning.

"I have been sleeping!" Harry countered. It was true; the war nightmares occupied less of his mind these days. He was slowly getting used to a Voldemort free world, growing more at ease and less ridden with anxiety.

"I think you have the hots for him" Ron said between two bites of toast.

Hermione's eyes grew wide with shock and Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. Glaring at his ginger-haired friend, Harry contested the horrible suggestion.

"Just because I'm gay," he whispered furiously "doesn't mean I have the hots for every guy I see, Ron!"

"I never said every guy, just Malfoy" the freckled teen countered casually before shoving a strip of crispy bacon in his mouth.

Harry groaned. "I so regret telling you about my preference."

"I'm glad you told us Harry" Hermione intervened with a soft apologetic smile. She threw a sharp disapproving glare at her boyfriend.

Truth be told, Harry was glad as well. It had been a strange summer for him, visiting the burrow and discovering that Ginny really didn't turn him on the way the new tall and ripped cashier at his grocery store did from a simple look. He loved her so much, cared for her immensely. He'd felt wonderful kissing her. Perhaps because she was the first to make him feel loved and truly cherished in such a way.

But it no longer felt right.

Eventually, Harry had come to terms with the fact that he wouldn't be marrying into the Weasly family. Thankfully, they still welcomed him with open arms and Mrs. Weasly's hugs were just as warm and bone crushing as ever. Ginny was still trying to get over it and Harry had spent the summer thinking his preference through. He hadn't completely come to terms with it yet but knowing his closest friends accepted him regardless had been a relief to say the least. They were on his side and they were keeping his secret until he was ready for school, or rather the world to know.

The Boy-Who-Lived-Twice liked men.

"Anyways, what did professor McGonagall say about you-know-what?" Hermione asked him, sensing that a different topic would be welcomed.

Harry's tortured grimace disappeared, replaced by a goofy grin.

"She and Kingsley approved it! And my registration won't be accessible to the public or the ministry!" he said with excitement.

"That's wonderful Harry!" Hermione encouraged.

"Awesome, mate" Ron supplied happily between two sips of fruit punch. "So did you do the test? What animal will you transform into?"

Harry wanted tell his friends what the test had revealed for his Animagus form but quickly decided against it. Ron would probably end up teasing him more.

After months of training, he would eventually be a small black cat, with eyes of a golden butterscotch meshed with emerald green; a small creature like the one Malfoy had rejected in his dream.

"We don't know yet" Harry lied awkwardly. "I don't really care as long as I can escape the media and avoid attention when I feel like being alone."

A small black cat wasn't very impressive or original but it was pretty much the best way to go unnoticed. Before professor McGonagall had suggested an odd test to reveal his potential Animagus form, Harry had believed he'd be a stag, like his patronus. He'd been disappointed to hear it wouldn't be as impressive. That is, until the headmistress had told him that being a cat was the best in terms of sneaking around.

"I would know, Mr Potter" she had told him, reminding him with a pointed look that she had hands on experience with it herself.

"Well, let us know as soon as you find out" Hermione said before picking up a spoon to eat her oatmeal.

Harry took a bite of his toast so he wouldn't have to say anything.

He thought he was alone. The other students' voices had disappeared a few minutes ago.

"Watch it Potter" a sharp voice said a bit too late to correct his assumption.

Harry bumped into Malfoy, accidentally knocking his shoulder into the blond's with enough force to make him wince. The class had been practicing a direction spell to find their way around a living maze. The new herbology professor had grown it for the afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They were all blindfolded and had to rely on magic to find their way. It was a good drill for anyone lost in magical woods or tumbling through pitch black unknown areas.

Everyone seemed to be handling the exercise fine but Harry wasn't doing so well. Something about being lost in a maze in total darkness brought back memories he'd rather forget. He was focusing a bit too much on keeping his breathing normal and calming his queasy fear to really get a handle on the spell. Evidently, he wasn't focusing enough on where he was going.

"Sorry Malfoy…" Harry mumbled, embarrassed by the collision he'd caused. Harry was expecting a sharp insult to cross the blond's lips but nothing of the sort came. In fact, Malfoy didn't say anything. He heard him leave, his fading footsteps indicating he was heading forward, away from him. It was curious that he was only hearing him now.

Something else was weird. Had Malfoy removed his blindfold?

"How did you know it was me?" the dark-haired teen questioned.

For a moment the steps continued and Malfoy seemed intent on ignoring him. After a few seconds however, they stopped and Harry held his breath for an answer.

"You breathe too damn loud" the obnoxious git said before continuing on the path of his spell.

Eventually, there was no other sound but Harry's gritting teeth in the quiet maze.

"Looks like the mail is coming in" Hermione commented the next day at breakfast as owls began to glide over the long tables of students. Half of them delivered small packages, dropping them in front of the intended recipients while the remaining owls circled Harry's head to deposit letters one after the other, building a tower of envelopes in front the famous Gryffindor.

Harry sighed as he took in the size of the final pile in front of his breakfast. The fan mail hadn't decreased since the beginning of the year. He had hoped it would, like Hermione and Ron's, but many witches and wizards were still writing to him about the war and their feelings. Harry just wanted to forget. He had read the first hundreds of letters he'd received, smiling warmly at the content of most of them, cringing in horrification at certain inappropriate ones and getting mad at the idiocy of a few. Eventually, he felt like he was being held in the past by having weekly reminders of his heroics. He also doubted he could read anymore declarations of love or invitations to social events he felt were rather shallow.

The letters in front of him were only part of his fame's burden. Harry wondered what kind of gifts would be on his bed when he got back from breakfast. The headmistress had banned any of the Golden Trio's packages from flying into breakfast after the first mail delivery of the school year. There had been too many owls flying above their heads, fighting to get in front of them to distribute entirely too many packages at the cluttered Gryffindor table. If they weighed more than a basic envelope and piece of parchment, they were sent straight to their rooms. McGonagall had also graciously placed a filtering spell to weed out any potentially dangerous deliveries.

"Hey Harry, if you have chocolate, can I get some? I've been craving frogs since last week" Seamus asked from a few seats to his right.

"Sure, no problem" the dark-haired teen answered with a tired smile before taking a sip of tea.

He had come to give away most of the stuff he received. There was only so much chocolate he could eat and he really didn't need twenty-five different golden watches, thirteen quidditch brooms, a hundred and something magical quills and a few dozens of wand holsters. There was so much stuff that soon, he'd need his own, personal Room of Requirement to store everything.

Harry sized up his pile of letters once more and sighed heavily. He would need a new expendable storage box to put these envelopes away. The one under his bed currently had unread mail practically spilling out of it.

"Want to put them in my bag Harry? I'll give them to you when we return to the common room" his bushy-haired friend offered.

"Yeah, that'd be great, 'Mione" he answered with a grateful smile. "I forgot I'd have to carry a bunch of mail today."

He was nonchalantly shoving the letters into her deceivingly large bag when he caught a glimpse of Malfoy observing him from the Slytherins' table. The frowning blond seemed to fight a glare as he turned his head away. Harry's temple twitched in annoyance but he chose to let it go for the sake of his mental health. Malfoy was probably just upset by the commotion his fame was causing, yet again.

The Golden Boy grabbed another handful of envelopes but one managed to slip between his fingers and missed the bag, falling to the floor. He stretched his arm awkwardly to retrieve it and straightened his back up once it was secure between his fingers.

It was tiny, Harry noted. Its size was probably why it had separated from the rest. Not much could ever fit in the square-inch thing and that notion made Harry curious enough to open it.

Hermione and Ron watched him intently, surprised that he was showing interest for one of his letters. The dark-haired teen broke the mini seal and eyed its content as he squeezed open the rigid envelop between his fingers.

"What is it, Mate?" Ron asked with a certain excitement lacing his word.

"It looks like…a button?" Harry answered, unsure why he would be sent one.

"A button?" Hermione questioned, sounding confused as well.

Harry turned the envelope upside down and a black button dropped from it, hitting the breakfast table. It bounced off of it and instead of dropping back down, it came to hover in the air at the level of their cups.

"Oh! That's a magical self-sowing button" Ron quickly supplied, happy to identify the object for them.

Harry shouldn't have been surprised those existed.

"But why?" he questioned, eyeing the strange object in front him.

"It looks like the one we have on our robes" Hermione said as she studied the button as well. "You have been missing your front pocket one since three weeks now, Harry. Maybe someone noticed and decided to send a replacement. Clearly, you weren't going to find one" she finished in a reproving tone.

She was right. There were better things to do with his Voldemort-free time. Whoever had sent it didn't think so. Maybe it was a teacher particularly obsessed with the dress code. The envelope wasn't signed though. There wasn't even a word on it. He looked to the headmistress but she wasn't paying attention to him. She was happily conversing with the DADA teacher, unaware that he had a button casually hovering in front of him.

"What do I do with it" he asked Ron, shooting him a confused look.

"Just tap on it with your wand and guide it to your pocket" his friend supplied helpfully. Harry did just that and the button flew to his side. Threads appeared from thin air and the button was suddenly being sown by invisible fingers. It took about ten seconds and the deal was done.

"This is one of strangest breakfast I've had in a while" Harry commented before looking back up from his robes.

It was the strangest of mornings actually. Before the breakfast intrigue, Harry had been trying to forget last night's dream.

Hermione and Ginny had been in it. They'd been giggling and touching each other's hair, which had been very blond and straight. "I can bleach your hair too if you want, Harry" Peroxide Hermione had offered with shiny eyes. "I'm sure Draco would help after he's done with Neville's."

Dream Harry had then felt fingers gliding over his scalp and grabbing at his dark unruly hair. "Potter, what is this messy hay stack you keep at the top of your head? It's dry, split and possibly the crappiest hair I've ever seen" an astonished Malfoy had said while pulling at his dark hair from the side, a heavy expression of disgust twisting his features. "At this point, we should just shave it off."

"Agreed." Peroxide Hermione had said, betraying Dream Harry.

"I'll wash his hair first" Malfoy had decided, pulling one last time at the tangled locks. Harry was mortified because at that point, Dream Harry had moaned and it hadn't been from pain. He felt his cheeks warm at the memory of it. Damn that despicable prat for making him miserable again!

He looked to the Slytherins' table for a second time that morning and caught Malfoy watching him again from across the room. The blond git frowned but held his gaze until the student next to him poked his shoulder to get his attention. Malfoy turned his head to send a questioning glance at his Slytherin peer and forgot about Harry. They began a conversation that seem rather unimportant, from the way the blond's features stayed perfectly stoic and bored.

What were the chances that of the two times Harry laid eyes on their table, Malfoy would be looking over to theirs? He seemed overly invested in watching Harry go through his fan mail. Then again, many students did stare curiously at the Golden Trio during mail time. Malfoy had a reasonable motive to be glancing over, unlike Harry. He resented that his attention so often fell on his ex-rival for absolutely no reason. It was a force of habit, he convinced himself, one that had developed from scrutinizing the conniving blond's pre-war activities. The dreams were just an extension of it, he was sure.

Harry was sitting next to Seamus in Potions. They were chopping ingredients for an advance brew called the Otoconis Elixir, which according to their new Professor, Thym Hucks, had preventive properties against motion sickness for broom flight.

"Okay, so the next ingredient is... Boll Weevil juices" Harry read. " We'll have to crush the abdomen of fifteen beetles."

The dark-haired Gryffindor looked to his Potions partner. Seamus had turned a slight shade of green.

"Don't puke in our cauldron" Harry warned with a teasing smile. It hid quite well the mild anxiety he felt at the thought of vomit ruining their so far decent concoction.

"Alright class, in a few steps, your elixir should be looking thick and creamy indigo" Professor Hucks informed them. "At that point, you'll need the molt of a black widow spider and you'll be incorporating it into your preparation while changing the temperature of the mixture and magically removing the bromeliad leaves you've added at the beginning. This is the hardest step" the man warned, scanning his students with a serious gaze. His hands were held together behind the small of his back.

This new professor hardly smiled and his tall broad figure was imposing but he didn't use fear to motivate his students. Harry liked that about him but that didn't stop him from wishing Snape was in class making his life miserable. It would mean he was still alive. He regretted not being able to interact with the greasy-haired bat while knowing what he'd truly done; how much he'd done for Dumbledore and the world. For his mother.

Hermione raised her hand. "Sir, I've noticed there aren't any spider molts on the ingredients table" she pointed out when the teacher turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "Where can we get them?"

"Yes, good observation, Miss Granger" the teacher praised. "They are very delicate so I've kept them with me. They are now at Mr. Conner and Mr. Malfoys' table. They are ahead of the class and I thought they could pick out the molts from the spider tank for everyone while the rest of you catch up" the dark-haired man explained.

Hermione thanked the professor. She tuned to her partner and scowled.

"Ronald, what is taking so long! Malfoy is ahead of us by seven steps. Even Harry and Seamus are moving faster. Are you done with the chopping?" she asked bitterly. Ron grimaced when her competitive girlfriend stole his knife and half-chopped ingredients to finish the job. Harry felt sorry for him but amused as well. Hermione was one amazing but demanding package.

A few steps later into their potion, Harry was eyeing Malfoy's table with a sense of dread. It was time to go get the black widow molts. Seamus was busy mixing their elixir counter clock wise so he figured he had to go. Begrudgingly, he got up and dragged his feet towards the blond git, hoping for a civil exchange.

"Hey" Harry awkwardly greeted the two Slytherins once he was in their line of vision. "I need a molt" he added with a little more assurance. He could do this. He had no reason to feel any apprehension.

Malfoy raised his chin up and his disturbing silver gaze met his.

"Potter" Malfoy greeted with a curt nod and a complete poker face. He seemed to study Harry's features for a moment, which made the dark-haired teen uncomfortable.

"Help yourself" the blond finally said, using the knife he'd been handling to point at a pile of molts hovering in a protective spell at the corner of their table. He then brought his attention back to the Dracula fox tail he'd been skinning, leaving Harry to fend for himself.

"Hang on" Conner, Malfoy's partner, called when Harry raised a hand towards the glowing molts. "Use your wand to pick one out, not your fingers."

Harry slowly put his hand back down and nodded. "Okay…thanks" he said gratefully. His gaze traveled quickly between the two Slytherins. Conner was granting him a small but genuine smile while Malfoy ignored him, seemingly too engrossed in his task to continue acknowledging Harry's presence.

"I'm gonna go get my wand then" Harry informed Conner with an awkward smile.

As he turned away towards his work bench, Harry felt a warm hand grasp his wrist firmly and stop him. Harry quickly looked to the pale hand on his tanned skin, shocked and on edge, his fighting instincts trying to overcome his calm. He looked up, meeting Malfoy's passive grey gaze.

"I'll get it" he told Harry before loosening his grasp and sliding his hand away. Malfoy took his wand and muttered a basic spell which instantly freed a spider molt from the glowing mass. With a small flick of his wand, he sent it flying to Harry's table. His ex-rival then proceeded to ignore him again.

When Harry got over his shock, he thanked the blond (which felt completely odd and foreign to their relationship) and quickly escaped to his table. The skin on his wrist felt like it was burning.

"Are you okay, Harry? You look really pale" Seamus commented when he reached his seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine" he lied. His heart was beating too fast and his whole body was tense. He needed a bit of time to calm down. His subconscious was ready for a fight, which wasn't going to happen apparently.

Malfoy had been civil. He'd touched him too, without sneering at him or throwing in a punch. He shouldn't have been surprised since the teen was attending school instead of Azkaban on what he suspected were very strict terms. Any faux pas would end his privileges.

Still, the blond git had chosen to be helpful and Harry was weirded out. Perhaps being tolerant to the Boy-Who-Lived was simply a method of self-preservation, the Gryffindor thought. It would be a satisfying explanation to Malfoy's behavior, one Harry could deal with.

When class ended, Harry and Seamus had successfully put their somewhat creamy indigo potion under a statis spell. They would finish it during the next class like most of the teams.

Hermione and Ron were in the middle of a step when the students began leaving.

"Go ahead, Harry. We need to wait a few minutes before we can put a Statis on this mixture and leave for lunch. Save us a seat, will you?" Hermione asked, sparing him a glance and smiling before diving back into the instructions manual.

"I will" Harry promised and left the dungeons on his own. He could wait for them but he figured they could use a bit of alone time so he walked on.

"Harry" someone called after him in the hallway a few minutes later. The dark-haired teen turned around to see who it was and it took him a moment to recognize the student. He was a sixth year Ravenclaw, with wavy blond hair and deep blue eyes. Harry appraised him as the smiling blond approached, closing the distance between them.

He was hot.

"Yeah?" Harry answered after fighting down a surge of lust.

"I just wanted to let you know...you have something gooey-looking in your hair" he informed him with a kind smile. "Did you just come out of Potions?"

Mortified, Harry blushed.

"I do? Where?" he asked fairly flustered, bringing his hands to hover over his hair, not sure if he wanted to pat and find the gooey thing or not. He preferred his hands to stay clean.

"Here, let me take it out" the Ravenclaw offered, planting himself into his personal space.

The teen took out his wand and eyed Harry's head for a moment, evaluating the damage.

"There isn't a lot but some of it seems stuck to the hair root. I'll remove most of it with a cleaning spell but I'll have to pull out a small strand. Is that okay, Harry?" the blond asked.

The Gryffindor hesitated. "Sure… as long as you don't make me bald or something."

The Ravenclaw chuckled and Harry found himself liking the sound.

"Don't worry, you won't notice a difference" the teen promised.

"Okay then" Harry said, giving him permission to fix his hair.

He barely felt anything when the blond teen plucked some of it and declared his intervention over.

"Thanks urm…" Harry realized he didn't know the teen's name.

"Justin" the Ravenclaw supplied with a blinding grin. "And you're very welcome! I'm gonna go dispose of these now" the teen informed Harry, showing him the dozen of black hair trapped between his thumb and index finger. "Bye, Harry. Enjoy your lunch!"

Harry watched the fit teen practically sprint away with his hair and felt an odd sense of dread. Something wasn't right.

Before he could figure out what, Malfoy appeared at the end of the corridor and grabbed Justin's arm with a painful grip.

"What the hell!" Harry shouted at he watched the poor Ravenclaw fight the grip, groaning in pain.

The Slytherin git ignored Harry and sneered at the assaulted teen.

"Drop them" Malfoy ordered him in a deceivingly calm tone. His murderous glare suggested anything but calm.

The blue-eyed teen stopped struggling. The colors drained from his face and he shivered under the icy gaze.

He dropped Harry's hair.

"Th-There!" Justin stuttered. "Let me go!"

Malfoy did let go of him and sneered. "Don't try that again" he warned, his tone promising great pain in case he did try again.

Justin seemed to want to retaliate for a moment but decided against it and left with a frustrated growl.

"What the hell was that, Malfoy?!" Harry shouted, outraged by his treatment of the Ravenclaw.

The blond Slytherin readjusted his ruffled sleeves and rolled his shoulders backwards, straightening his spine.

"Potter, your ignorance is painful" he said, looking straight at him, not moving away from his spot.

Harry tried not to lose his temper.

"Can't you be civil and use words, instead of roughing people up. What the hell did he even do to you?" Harry asked, failing to mask his anger.

Malfoy snickered. "You really have no clue, do you?"

Harry gulped, sensing he was in for a horrible scoop. "What?"

"He's part of the Polyjuice club" Malfoy said, as if that explained everything.

Harry frowned. "What's the Polyjuice club?" he questioned, unsure he wanted to know.

"It's a secret club that uses Polyjuice potion for sexual activities" the blond teen replied, smirking at Harry's sudden discomfort.

"You mean…they…" the Gryffindor tried to speak but failed. His mouth was very dry and he felt too nauseous to voice his line of thought.

Malfoy moved from his spot and approached him, a despicable smirk still stretching his lips.

He leaned into Harry's personal space, carrying with him an alluring scent of wet wood and tea. He felt the blond's breath, warm against his ear, as he muttered to him.

"Justin was going to sell your hair to slutty students who want to fuck you behind your back."

Harry eyes closed and he shivered, entirely out of disgust. His reaction had nothing to do with how Malfoy had practically whispered fuck you into his ear.

If what he said was true and Justin had been taking advantage of him to sell his body, he regretted not joining the git into shaking the Ravenclaw up.

Malfoy retreated, fortunately taking with him his pleasant scent and giving him space to think.

"Keep your ugly hair on your empty skull, Potter" the blond prat said before taking his leave, a full blown smirk plastered on his infuriating face.

Harry took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. He sighed, trying to let go of the terrifying feelings he'd just felt.

Before leaving to lunch, he made sure to burn the hair on the floor.

The stranger's hand flattened on his stomach and slowly, firmly dragged down his bare hot skin, until it was cupping him through his jeans. Harry's breath hitched and he barely held back a moan. He could feel the hardness of his captor jabbing him from behind. Harry's heart was beating mad and the excitement he felt was both troubling and invigorating. He felt the man's toned chest press up against his back, making his skin burn and shiver in excitement. This stranger was fit and he smelled amazing. Too distracted to even begin to describe the arousing scent of his assailant, Harry figured he's try to remember it for later.

"Harry…" The man whispered in his ear, his deep voice masked with arousal and Harry couldn't help the moan that escaped him.

His breathing quickened and the urge to touch him more took over. He threw a hand behind him, reaching for the stranger's hair. He threaded his fingers through what felt like silk, and gently grabbed at the short strands, pulling them slightly and earning himself a hungry growl.

The man unbuttoned Harry's jeans and freed his arousal from his trousers. Harry hissed at the pleasure of a sudden touch on his cock, never having felt someone else's hand on him before. The stranger's fingers began moving along his length and the free hand came back on Harry's stomach, its pale arm wrapping around his torso to keep him flush against his lover.

The slow strokes on his arousal were driving him mad with want. Harry wanted more, faster. The stranger seemed to read his mind, for he accelerated his pace.

"Harry…" the man said again, moaning into his neck, his vigorous strokes gaining speed. He bit the flesh around Harry's collar just as he was starting to feel a tight heat coil in his groins and he was soon spilling himself into his lover's hand, crying out his orgasm.

Harry came down from his high, gasping for air. He felt weak in the knees and had to lean into his captor not to fall to the ground. He felt a soft kiss over the bite at his neck and fingers zipping up his pants.

"Kiss me" his captor demanded and Harry willingly turned around, meeting hooded silver eyes piercing through the darkness of the room. He captured the man's lips into a savage kiss, throwing his arms around a pale neck.

"Malfoy..." he moaned after breaking the hungry kiss for some much needed air… and woke up startled.

It took a moment for Harry to realize what had happened. His bed sheets were damp, sticky and soiled and his face felt flushed. The sun was just rising, greeting him through the dorm's window. Thankfully, everyone else seemed to be asleep, leaving Harry alone to panic in silence. He had just dreamed of Malfoy wanking him! It was mortifying. Harry thanked Merlin he wasn't roomed with the blond Slytherin. He quickly casted a cleaning charm over his messy sheets and headed straight for the showers, hurrying to wash away the evidence. He ended up taking a cold shower, the vivid memory of his dream stirring unwanted desires in him.

"Stupid Polyjuice club" Harry cursed under his breath. "Stupid…." He wanted to say hot but Merlin he couldn't "Stupid dumb Malfoy" he said instead, blaming the previous day's event for his soiled sheets.

The flustered Gryffindor decided he wouldn't say anything about this dream to his friends and he'd put every last bit of energy left in him into forgetting it. Malfoy was pleasing to the eyes but Harry wasn't going to regard the git as a potential lover. The blond was a nightmare and it wasn't like Malfoy would ever want him anyways.