It had started out unobtrusively. Harry thought that he had seen a tell-tale blond head around him occasionally, but he put it at the back of his mind. Hermione and Ron didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, so he kept his observations to himself.

However, by the second week, he noticed that Malfoy continued to pop up at unexpected timings and places around him. He would be there, sitting alone at the stands at the Quidditch pitch whenever the Gryffindor team was training, and Harry could feel the boy's eyes surveying him. Likewise, when he was studying with Hermione at the library, he could almost always spot Malfoy at least three tables away, studying alone. Harry wondered why Malfoy was always alone nowadays, with no fawning Pansy or his two henchmen flanking him at both sides. He shook his head, writing it off as coincidence, but it continued niggling away persistently at him.

By the middle of the third week, Harry was extremely irritated and exasperated. By now, Ron and Hermione had already noticed the presence of Malfoy looming around them.

"And how long have you seen him around, Harry?"

"It's already been two weeks, I think…"

"Harry, just ignore the slimy git. He'll go away soon. If not, I'll be happy to take care of him," Ron had grinned maliciously, earning a disapproving glance from Hermione.

But by Friday that same week, when the trio stepped out of their portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room, Harry noticed a tall blond boy wearing Slytherin robes. Fuming to himself, he stormed straight over to the boy and grabbed the collar of his robes roughly, pinning him to the wall.

"What'd you think you're doing, Malfoy, oh!" Harry stopped in mid-sentence as he realized the snarling and thrashing boy wasn't Malfoy at all, but a blond stranger in Slytherin.

"Finally lost your marbles, have you, Potter?!" the boy spat in derision, pushing Harry away and hurrying off in the opposite direction.

"Bloody hell, Harry, you're really hung up over this stalking thing, aren't you?!" Ron had exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise as Harry, seething with anger, had kicked the wall venomously.

When the fourth week had started anew, Draco Malfoy had taken things to a new height. Meals were no longer taken in peace in the Great Hall; Harry could feel Malfoy's eyes boring into the back of his skull like a hot iron. He tried a few times to turn around and stare back at Malfoy, but it was humanely impossible to win the glaring contest when pitted against Malfoy, who didn't need to seem to blink for more than three minutes. Because of that, Harry always ate at an extremely fast pace to flee from those unblinking grey eyes.

Hermione also picked up on another thing; during mealtimes, the rest of the Slytherins were sitting rather far from Malfoy and completely not talking to him. Outside of mealtimes, Malfoy's flunkies were no longer with him, and additionally, during combined Gryffindor and Slytherin classes, no one approached Malfoy to pair up with him except for an unusually hesitant Pansy. Hermione brought this up to Harry and Ron, but every time they tried to figure out this curious turn of events, each answer that they came up with became more and more preposterous.

Whenever they were walking from class to class, Harry could spy Malfoy's head of blond, almost-white hair bobbing in the thronging crowd of students. He would try to turn around and stop in his tracks to reach Draco, but at a blink of an eye, Draco had disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared. It was much worse during combined classes like Care of Magical Creatures and Potions. Whenever the three Gryffindors took their seats, Draco would always sit right behind Harry, and Harry could feel the sneaky Slytherin staring steadfastly at the back of his neck.

He always felt uncomfortable and nervous like Malfoy was mentally undressing him- Harry blinked as that unexpected, stray thought popped randomly in his head. He visibly flinched, turned back and threw an extremely dirty look at Draco, expecting Draco to sneer back at him.

Surprisingly, Draco didn't. Instead, he crossed his legs, leaning back steadily on the two back legs of his chair. Locking eyes with Harry, a haughty smirk graced his lips, curving them upwards. Noticing Harry's flustered face, Draco could only flash him a supercilious grin, his grey eyes dancing flirtatiously and mischievously, like the victorious cat that got the cream.

Harry always got so un-nerved by this, that one time during Potions, he had ended up tearing a page out of his Potions book in agitation. Snape immediately appeared in front of him, an oily smile on his sallow features.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter. If only you knew how to treat your possessions the way they should be treated."

On top of all these distractions and irritations, which were already bad enough, Malfoy had taken to appearing randomly outside the Gryffindor portrait hole. There was unfortunately no discernable pattern that Hermione could figure out, if not Harry would have whipped his wand out in a split second and hexed Malfoy to bits. Besides, Malfoy seemed like a mirage; if Harry thought that he had seen the blond, before Harry could confront him, Malfoy would have vanished within seconds, the only evidence that he was there in the first place was the very end of his robes slipping away after the blond whenever Malfoy turned sharply to another corridor.

It was driving Harry insane. It kept him up at night, his fingers tightening around his blankets. His mind raced over every possibility as to why Malfoy was doing this. He grew jumpy and skitterish, thinking that Malfoy was hiding behind every pillar, ready to pounce that's what you want, don't you Harry? Him pouncing on you, marking and claiming you as his own- on Harry. With every passing day, he couldn't eat under Malfoy's searing gaze, nor could he concentrate during classes; his brain was so pre-occupied devising ways to capture Malfoy and question him to no end.

To Harry, Draco Malfoy was like a tattoo that he couldn't scratch off no matter how hard he tried. He felt his defenses crumbling from within, and he felt himself give in utterly and completely to the obsession of nothing but Malfoy- Draco Malfoy. He was sick and tired of this game of catch-me-if-you-can and charades. He was weary of overanalyzing and picking apart every flick of the head, every raised eyebrow, every smirk which seemed to mean a thousand different meanings, and the way his cock would give an indecent little jump every single time Malfoy locked eyes with him and traced the outline of his own lips alluringly tell me why the dark side catches my eye- with his long, slender, aristocratic finger.

Malfoy didn't even evade him when Harry was asleep. His dreams revolved maniacally around Malfoy. Malfoy staring, Malfoy smirking, Malfoy hissing, Malfoy grabbing, Malfoy groping, Malfoy touching, Malfoy licking-

Harry had woken up with a start when he dreamt that Malfoy was pinning a writhing Harry watching me all night long- to the bed, his warm, wet tongue teasing Harry's neck.

That night Harry forced himself to stay awake, not daring to go back to sleep.

It was on a Saturday afternoon when the trio could finally sit down properly and discuss about Malfoy's weird behavior. There was no way they could do it in the Gryffindor common room as it was way too crowded, so the three of them settled down at the courtyard.

The sun shone brightly down at them, the light glittering on the blades of the emerald green grass like tiny topazes. Harry leant back heavily on the rough hewn bark of a huge tree, crossing his ankles. Hermione and Ron sat themselves gingerly near him.

It was Hermione who first broke the silence hesitantly.

"It's been going on for a month already, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"And he's just been following you, not doing anything violent or striking up conversation with you?"

"Just been following me?! You know how he drives me crazy with his shadowing!" Harry hissed pressingly.

"Oh come on, even I can do all that fancy-shmancy vanishing out of sight thing!" Ron said off-handedly, wiggling his fingers in a mystical way.

"Of course you could, Ronald, it's just a pity that you have the subtlety of a sledgehammer to the head," Hermione retorted coldly. Turning to Harry, she ignored Ron's indignant splutters and took a deep breath, as though she knew that she was going to say something that Harry would not like.

"Harry, I think that Malfoy fancies you."

"Blimey, Hermione! The books getting to you, much?!" Ron exclaimed, as he crossed his arms bad-naturedly, still not happy over Hermione's snub.

"It all fits! Don't you two see it?! That's the reason why the rest of the Slytherins are avoiding him! That's because Malfoy told them that he likes you, Harry! And haven't you noticed how Malfoy no longer picks on the three of us?"

"Well, that's because his cronies are not with him anymore! He wouldn't dare pick a fight with us! And besides, I don't see Malfoy around us now! Maybe he's stopped and everything, probably gotten bored, that insufferable git."

As if on cue, Draco strode out into the courtyard, a thick heavy leather-bound book tucked under his arm.

Ron winced.

The three Gryffindors watched as Draco scanned the crowd around him calmly, before registering the three of them. Quirking up an eyebrow in a parody of politeness at them, he sat down on a bench directly in front of them, a perfect vantage point for the blond to look at Harry. Sliding a finger underneath a dog-eared page, he flipped open the book in a smooth and fluid motion and began to read.

Harry stared at Draco. He was wearing a loose, thin, white collared shirt that was untucked; the tails of the shirt hung rumpled at his sides. The sleeves were folded neatly up to his elbows, displaying his long, thin and pale forearms and slim, feminine wrists. Slung haphazardly over the collar was a Slytherin tie that was knotted messily. His lanky legs were encased in a pair of tight black pants that showed off his sinewy muscles. In the background, Harry could hear Ron and Hermione bickering.

It was the first time that Harry had seen Draco so messily and casually attired, he looks so damn good- Harry blinked and tried to squash that stray thought. To his horror, he saw in his mind's eye the handful of dreams he tried so desperately to brush away bubble wildly up to the surface.

Malfoy kissing, Malfoy biting, Malfoy licking, Malfoy sucking-

A few strands of white-blond hair fell to Draco's face, and Harry gulped as Draco swiftly hooked the silvery strands behind his ear, never taking his eyes off the page. Harry saw the way the sunlight reflected on Draco's hair, and the silvery strands sparkling with-

"Bloody hell, Harry, are you drooling at Malfoy?!" Ron said in a horrified voice, pointing to Harry's parted lips.

"No! I'm not-" Harry broke off quickly, rubbing urgently at his chin with the back of his hand. He froze however, when he felt something moist land on his hand. He blinked hopelessly doing silly things when it comes to you- at Ron and Hermione, who were both wearing looks of surprise and worry on their faces. There was a stunned silence, and Hermione hurried on before Ron could burst out saying anything else.

"Think about it, Harry. If Malfoy was a girl and if he was following you around surreptitiously like what he's been doing, wouldn't the first answer come to you that he's interested in you? And besides, I saw him fold the dove during Defense against the Dark Arts when we were in year three." Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation when she caught sight of Harry and Ron's blank faces.

"The class that was supposed to be originally taught by Lupin but Snape took over! We covered werewolves! And Malfoy sent you that paper dove that flew to you! Remember? I saw him blow the dove towards you, and Harry… the way he did it was rather… gay."

"What?!" I saw him blow… you- Blow you-

"His face was all tender and everything! And he did the eyebrow thing after you opened the dove!" Hermione whispered furtively, her eyes wide with wonder. "Girls know that guys do the eyebrow thing only when they have a crush on them!"

writing love letters during class-

"You're mad, Hermione. Starking, raving, barking mad." Ron proclaimed crossly, a note of finality in his exclamation.

"Oh, Harry, you can choose not to believe me, but it's just what I think," Hermione concluded. "But you know that I'm almost always right," Hermione huffed sternly, before opening up her own book and beginning to read.

Harry sighed, but he felt that Hermione's explanation did make things a bit clearer. He resolutely forced himself to turn his back on Malfoy so that the other boy couldn't stare or is it because you don't want to stare at him, Harry- at him. His thoughts were jumbled up, like a mess of jigsaw puzzles that seemed to fit, but yet didn't… A small part of him felt that he had reached Hermione's theory days ago, but Harry just refused to believe it. However, when Hermione said it out loud…

He slowly shifted his body to his original position and bit his lip before shyly lifting his gaze hoping against hope- up to Draco. Harry couldn't help but feel something tug at his heart when he saw Draco gazing unabashedly at him.

Today, I saw Harry, Granger and the Weasel talking about me publicly.

It's time I moved my carefully orchestrated plan onto Phase 2. In a week's time, I'll know for sure, if the past month was a complete waste of time or not.

But I have a feeling that I've managed to burrow deep down into his sweet, soft skin.

But, as suddenly as the stalking had started, it had screeched surprisingly to a halt. Harry no longer saw Malfoy wherever he turned or lurking at every corner. Harry thought he'd feel relieved, but oddly, he didn't. He suddenly felt like something was missing from him, that something didn't feel right when Malfoy wasn't doggedly trailing his steps. He still continued to lose sleep every night and also failed to concentrate during lessons, his thoughts helplessly straying over to Malfoy.

It had been a week since Malfoy had stopped following him. Harry shook his head, clearing his mind of thoughts about the blond. Dumping his book bag on the table, he fished out his Advanced Transfiguration textbook, quill and ink well, making sure his wand was safely ensconced in his bag.

The class of Gryffindors were starting their Transfiguration class with theory, and then proceeding over to practical wand-waving after that. His hazy eyes scanned paragraph after paragraph in the book, but he jerked upright as he saw Draco's name in the print. Rubbing his weary eyes, he blinked furiously before looking back at the sentence. Dragons. He swore under his breath after realizing that he had foolishly mistaken the word 'dragons' for Draco's name.

Slowly, he laid his head on his arm, so tired, spent half of last night wondering about Malfoy- tuning out McGonagall's lecture…

Suddenly, he felt someone poke him hard in the ribs. He started; his eyes can't nap during McGonagall's classes- wide alert. He woke up just in time to see Draco Malfoy strolling into the class as if he belonged there. Swiftly taking in the seating arrangement of the students, his eyes landed on Harry, and his lips curled up in an insolent smirk.

Striding easily over to the table directly behind the trio's, he pulled out a chair and lowered himself on it, ignoring the stares and whispers travelling around the class like wildfire. He straightened up, placed his right ankle on his bent left knee, crossed his arms casually and tilted his head superciliously.

"Mr Malfoy! What are you doing here? Your Tranfiguration class is not until after lunch!" Professor McGonagall barked, her shrewd eyes narrowing.

Draco shrugged easily, scrutinizing the pale crescents on his nails before answering, "I currently have a free period. Besides, I want to brush up on my Transfiguration. I promise I'll be quiet," Draco reassured smoothly, a confident smile pasted across his face.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips before warning sternly, "Fine. No disruptions at all. If there are any, you'll be out on the count of three."

Draco nodded, but his eyes were already on Harry. Catching hold of Harry's astonished stare, he wiggled his eyebrows Harry! The eyebrow thing! and gazed back at him. Draco grinned inwardly to himself, as he flicked the tip of his tongue out and languidly ran it over the bottom of his upper teeth. Harry's eyes widened, but the brunette made no move to tear his eyes away from Draco's tongue.

Ron caught sight of this exchange, and he roughly nudged Harry. "Shove off, Malfoy," Ron muttered under his breath, before turning his own back to the Slytherin.

After five minutes later, Ron got increasingly irritated with both Harry and Malfoy. Harry kept patting his hair self-consciously, trying to flatten his shock of black hair, resulting in him fidgeting a lot. Ron looked over to Harry's textbook; he was obviously not concentrating, he wasn't even on the correct page! Ron turned over to Malfoy, whose dark grey eyes were practically burning a hole through Harry's neck; what with the amount of ogling and leering he was doing.

"That's enough, Malfoy! What're you playing at, following Harry around for the last few weeks and now stepping into our classes and pretending like you belong here! Hermione's already told us what you're planning to do, you sneaky Slytherin bastard, and I'll be happy to tell you that Harry is not interested, and will never be interested in you!" Ron shouted, his large, beefy hands already grabbing the front of Draco's robes.

"Mr. Weasley! Language!" Professor McGonagall shrieked, rushing forward in their direction. "Unhand Mr. Malfoy this instant! I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from you!

Ron immediately released his grip on Draco. Draco sneered maliciously at Ron and dusted his robes off. "Pray tell me, Weasley, what is Granger's take on what I have been doing?"

"She's saying that you're following him around because you're… attracted to him! And I can repeat it again if you haven't heard it the first time, Malfoy, that Harry will never be interested in you!"

"Well, well, well," Draco remarked quietly, slinking over to Hermione Granger, who was staring defiantly up at Draco's hard, inscrutable face.

"Mr. Malfoy, there will be no name-calling in this class!"

Draco turned and nodded yet again to acknowledge Professor McGonagall, and returned his gaze to Hermione, who was glaring at Draco so hard that her eyes were starting to water.

"It seems that you're smarter than I give you credit for, Granger," Draco whispered, his soft voice washing over Hermione. Immediately he shifted his body so that he stood directly in front of Harry. Bending down so that Harry could see deeply into his amused grey eyes, Draco moved closer to Harry, so close that Harry could feel his hot breath ghosting seductively the sweetest drug ever- over his cheek.

"Weasley says that you will never be interested in me. But never is a promise, Harry, and everyone knows promises can always be broken," Draco breathed, and Harry felt a frisson of excitement course through his body when Draco purred Harrrry- his name.

With that, Draco swiftly straightened up, threw an eminent look at the thunderstruck class and inclined his head politely towards Professor McGonagall, before sweeping out of the class, his black robes billowing dramatically out after him.

Harry sat there, frozen.

"…interested in me… promises broken… attracted to him-"

"Hey! Malfoy! Hey! Stop!" Harry shouted sharply, shoving his table aside. He started to break into a desperate run towards the blond, ignoring Ron's cries of protest.

"Mr. Potter! Why, this is highly impertinent, you running out of my class-"

But Harry could care less about Transfiguration and about McGonagall's temper, he knew that this was the only time that he could corner Malfoy and get a straight answer once and for all.

"Why… why have you have you been following me around?!"

"Have I, Potter? I didn't realize that I had. Or maybe it's just your … overactive imagination?" Draco whispered delicately, raising his eyebrows questioningly. The way Draco said this made Harry blush. It's like he knows about my dreams-

"Yeah you definitely have been stalking me!" Harry suddenly blurted.

Draco looked around perfunctorily at the slowly, but surely gathering crowd around them, and also at the Gryffindors who had poked their heads out the doors to look at the spectacle. "It seems that you like crowds, choosing to confront me about this tricky subject right in the middle of the corridor. Attention whore," Draco whispered, his voice dropping an octave lower. "Too bad no one knows that you're my attention whore."

Harry's eyes widened.

With that, Draco grabbed the front of Harry's robes tightly, and began to manhandle Harry, dragging him further down the corridor, before turning sharply into a dark, abandoned corner. Draco roughly slammed Harry against the wall, before swiftly placing his own hands on both sides of Harry's head, preventing any escape.

Taking in Harry's flustered look and his eyes, which darted everywhere and refused to look at Draco's face, Draco grinned slyly to himself.

"Your friends all think I'm a big, bad wolf, don't they? They think that I've hatched some dastardly, evil plan to get into your mind, hmmm?

Harry obstinately stared at the opposing wall behind Draco, not answering, but he felt his traitorous body angling nearer and nearer towards the blond, and a tell-tale tightening of his trousers.

Draco smirked at Harry's silence, his half-lidded eyes lazily watching every inch of my body, like you wanted to play- travelling up and down Harry's body.

"Cat got your tongue, Potter? Too bad, I'd rather your tongue wrapped around something more…" Draco whispered alluringly, filling Harry's mind with filthy scenes of his tongue wrapped around Draco's cock-

Draco continued languidly, his cool grey eyes never wavering from Harry's flushed, strawberry-red lips. "I've got my sights set on you, Potter. You might not know it, but we've marked each other ever since that day during first year when you didn't accept my hand of friendship. You were mine to hate, mine to tease, mine to dislike, mine to jeer at. But now, finally, you're mine to love."

With each pause, Harry felt Draco's body, pulsating with waves of gentle heat, move an inch closer. He let his breath out in a hiss and closed his eyes subversively, willing Draco to come nearer so that he could feel him. Draco's lips were hovering tantalizingly near his neck, and Harry gritted his teeth desperately, hoping that Draco would do something, anything, as long as bare skin touched bare skin. But Draco didn't move at all; he didn't do anything to close up two bodies synchronizing, don't even need to touch me- the miniscule amount of distance between them.

Harry couldn't help but let out a soft whine of dirty, obscene need. "Stop doing this to me, Draco…" he whispered as he tilted his face, exposing his neck for you to bite suck lick fuck taste love even further.

Suddenly, Harry moaned, feeling Draco's leg part his thighs and Draco's knee brushing teasingly against his erection.

"Tomorrow night at eleven. At the classroom beside the one-eyed witch." Harry heard Draco's words come out in jerky gasps, and it was then that Harry knew that Draco was as turned on as he was.

"Wait!" Harry cried out, a small part of him missing the warmth of Draco's body as Draco retreated and turned away from Harry.

"Do I- Do I come alone?" Harry blurted anything, anything just to keep Draco from going-, but he immediately kicked himself for asking that stupid question.

"You can bring your friends if you want, Potter, but I highly doubt that you would want them to be present when I stick my tongue down your throat." Draco drawled, with a small, devious smile on his face before leaving Harry there, his swift footsteps clip-clopping on the cold stone floor and fading away.

tongue down your throat, wrapped around your cock-

Harry felt his legs crumple helplessly and he slumped to the ground, intoxicated. His heart was beating maniacally like a drum, blood pumping loudly in his ears, but his mind was full of the things that they would be doing at tomorrow night, eleven.

A/N: Second and final chapter almost done, will be posted up in roughly a week's time.