Harry twisted his fingers nervously as he stood in the hallway waiting for Draco. All throughout detention he had wanted a chance to be alone with Draco, and now that he was about to be, he didn't have a clue about what he should do. He heard Snape and Draco speaking, and he jumped at the sound of Draco's footsteps. Bolting seemed like a very good idea. Just as he turned to dash down the hall, Draco called his name.

"Potter?"

"Y-yes?" he squeaked, pivoting quickly. His feet tangled together and he lost his balance, his glasses slipping down his nose as he stumbled.

Draco lurched forward, grabbing Harry's arm and tugging him towards him just as Harry regained his balance and pushed off hard against the floor. Draco's forehead slammed into Harry's left eye socket. Pain exploded behind Harry' eyes, and he distantly heard Draco swear over the roaring sound in his ears.

"Harry?" Draco asked, staring in horror at Harry, who was bent at the waist, a hand pressed against his eyes. "Harry, oh shit. Let me see."

He pried Harry's hand away and stared at the growing lump on his eyebrow. Harry hissed when Draco gently touched his eyebrow, and Draco winced. "Hospital Wing," he said firmly, determined not to think about the plans he had had for Harry that night.

"I'm fine," groaned Harry. He straightened quickly and swayed on his feet. The pain had cleared his head fantastically and he felt like his old self again. "I'm okay."

"It's the size of the Snitch now, Harry," Draco said shortly, tugging on his arm.

Harry wrenched out of his grip. Something flashed over Draco's face, and Harry blinked, confused. Had Draco just looked hurt? Harry looked closely at Draco again, but Draco's face was unreadable.

Harry was baffled. Why should Draco be hurt about him not wanting to go to the Hospital Wing? Didn't he want to spend time with Harry? Harry sucked his breath in sharply. It wasn't hurt he had seen on Draco's face. It had been disappointment—disappointment that he wouldn't be able to shuffle Harry off to Madam Pomfrey and go back to Zabini. Harry's eyes stung, and he blinked quickly.

"I've gotta go," he said thickly, turning away.

"Harry, wait," Draco said, grabbing his wrist.

Harry didn't resist. The pain was fading but still sharp enough that he barely felt the effects of the potion. He could barely see out of his left eye as he looked at wall, determined not to cry. He wouldn't give Draco the satisfaction. Why hadn't he broken Draco's grip yet?

"Are you crying?" Draco asked, shocked.

"No," Harry said, hating himself when his voice caught. He didn't know what Draco was playing at—pushing him away only to yank him back.

Draco sighed. Why would Harry rip his arm out of his grip only to start crying when Draco had tried to respect his wishes and back off? Was the potion fluctuating? What did Harry really feel?

"Why don't you want to go to the Hospital Wing?" Draco asked, feeling as though that was the place to start.

"Because…" Harry trailed off, not wanting to sound too clingy. His wrist hung limp in Draco's hand, and he tried not to be sidetracked by how very nice it felt. "The Hospital Wing sucks," he muttered, looking up at Draco through his lashes.

He refused, utterly refused to break down and pour his heart out, although the urge to was starting to come back to him as potion acclimated to the dulling pain. Draco watched him closely, and Harry felt his cheeks flame.

"I have some healing potions in my room," Draco offered after a long pause.

Harry nodded, not sure what to say. Was Draco offering to get them for him or was he inviting Harry to follow him to his room? And if he was, was he expecting Harry to wait outside of his room in the hallway or actually come inside?

Draco had to turn around quickly so that Harry wouldn't see him grinning like a loon. He was going to have Harry in his room! Granted, it wasn't exactly as he had planned—when he had imagined bringing Harry up to his room it hadn't been for potions but Draco would take what he could get. There was just the tiny problem of his roommates. Crabbe and Goyle would be snoring like wildebeests, but Nott would still be awake—the curse of living with an insomniac.

With a sinking in his stomach he realized that it wasn't laundry day, and that his hampers were stuffed with clothes. Harry didn't strike Draco as being a neat freak, but it would be his first time in the Slytherin dormitory, and Draco wanted to impress Harry.

Harry hurried after Draco, who had begun walking so fast that Harry had to trot to keep up with him, making him curse genetics for making him so short. At least he had a few inches on Hermione, but he was a good four inches shorter than Draco. With a scowl he realized that Zabini was exactly the same height as Draco. Draco probably liked tall boys, and Harry seriously considered a Lengthening Potion until he plowed straight into Draco, who had stopped in front of a stone wall, and Draco said, "Wow, good thing you're so small," as he steadied Harry.

"Yes," breathed Harry, suddenly very much in love with his genes. He stared eagerly up at Draco through his right eye.

"Shit," Draco muttered, wincing as he looked at Harry. "You bruise fast."

Self-conscious, Harry covered his left eye with his hand; or rather he cupped his hand over it as his eye had swollen to unbelievable proportions.

Draco looked sideways at the entrance to the Slytherin common room, hoping that someone would come out of it so that he wouldn't have to say the password in front of Harry. As crazy as he was about the Gryffindor, he was still loyal to his house.

Hoping that it would work his bent his head and pressed his lips against Harry's ear and whispered, "shh."

He felt Harry tremble and take a shuddering breath, his eyes unfocused. Draco quickly turned around and muttered the password to the wall, which became a door and admitted them. He gently tugged Harry into the common room. He opened his mouth to tell Harry to be quiet when a deafening sound shook the room.

Draco yanked Harry behind him and drew his wand. Harry tensed behind him and one of his hands fisted the material on Draco's shirt. Draco gripped his wand tighter as he stepped further in the room, and he stopped dead.

Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott were sleeping on the couches. "It's okay," he said quietly, smiling slightly. So, Blaise had a date did he? "Let's go."

"But…" Harry said, peeking over Draco's shoulder. "But what are they sleeping down here for?"

"Blaise is entertaining company," Draco drawled, already walking up the stairs and smiling very widely at the fact that Harry was still holding onto the back of his shirt.

"He locked them out?"

Draco shook his head. "No, he probably just drew the curtains on his bed. They get the message."

Harry peered over his shoulder, looking back down at the three Slytherins. "And they just respect that?" he asked incredulously.

Draco laughed. "Blaise is particularly…thorough when taking revenge," he said carefully, not wanting to frighten Harry.

"Oh," said Harry, gripping Draco's shirt a little tighter. "So we can't get the potions?" he asked.

Draco thought that Harry sounded both disappointed and hopeful. "No, we can get them," he assured Harry. "Blaise wouldn't do anything, well, not much anyway, to me."

He pushed the door open and padded across the floor to Blaise's bed. With every step that drew them closer to Blaise, Harry pressed himself closer to Draco, who had deliberately began walking slower so as to enjoy the feel of Harry pressed up against him. He poked his wand at where the curtains came together, and very gently pulled one of them back so that he could see who was inside. He could make out Blaise in the darkness and there was someone else…

"Seamus?" Harry squeaked, sounding floored. Draco pulled back the curtain more, his jaw dropping.

Draco blinked at his friend. It was rare that he was so thoroughly flummoxed. Finnegan? But wasn't he always hanging over Harry like a cheap cloak? And hadn't Blaise had someone in mind?

"You have four seconds to pull the curtains back together before I kill you," said Blaise in a sleep-roughened voice. Harry squeaked again, and Draco hurriedly closed the curtains, still reeling.

Well, if that's what Blaise wanted…Draco smiled smugly to himself. This got rid of his urge to kill Finnegan for hanging about Harry rather nicely. "Did you know?" he asked Harry quietly.

Eyes still wide, Harry shook his head. Draco shrugged. "Me neither. Come on, my bed's over here."

His bed was next to Blaise's, and he pulled the curtains back to let Harry in first. Harry blushed scarlet but hurriedly toed of his shoes before entering. Did his feet smell? Were his socks dorky? He peeked down at them and nearly groaned aloud. Of all days, he had to be wearing the socks Dobby made for him. He sat on them before Draco could get a good look them.

Draco was rummaging around in his nightstand before he pulled out a crystal vial and a small jar. He unscrewed the top and smeared some of the salve on it before dabbing it on Harry's eye. "This'll get rid of the bruising and swelling," he said.

Harry blinked contentedly at him and closed his eyes. It felt very nice to have Draco touching him. He hoped it meant something that Draco was putting the salve on him rather than just handing Harry the jar. Harry liked to think that it meant something.

"This is a Pain Relieving Potion," said Draco, holding out the vial.

Harry winced. "The last time I thought I was drinking one of those I ended up taking the Draught of Submission," he whispered, desperately hoping that he wasn't being rude.

But Draco only chuckled. "I know; I heard. Believe me, though—this is a Pain Relieving Potion.

Nervously, Harry downed the potion, but nothing happened except that the pain in his head disappeared after a few moments. He smiled at Draco. "Thank you," he said, suddenly shy now that they were just sitting next to one another.

Draco nodded. "I like you Harry," he said, coming closer.

Harry blushed. "I like you, too."

"I really like you," said Draco, coming even closer. Harry trembled as he felt Draco's lips graze his cheek.

"I-I-I really…" began Harry, struggling to string the words together as Draco began doing something extremely wonderful to his neck. "Ohhh," he groaned, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck and pressing himself closer to the Slytherin.

For a few minutes, Draco enjoyed teasing Harry with chaste kisses that he was very slowly developing into something more adult. He could feel Harry's hard cock pressing against him, and a part of him wanted to take Harry hard and fast. No, he told himself sternly. He wanted to spoil Harry.

"Draco," panted Harry, his eyes unfocused behind his glasses. Draco ran his tongue across Harry's lips, and Harry moaned, parting his lips to let Draco explore. Draco lost himself in plundering Harry's mouth for a few moments before he gently disentangled himself.

"Harry," he said, his breathing heavy. "Harry, are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yes," he whispered.

Draco still looked uncertain, and so Harry began to unbutton Draco's shirt with trembling fingers. Draco held himself still as Harry explored his chest, frequently looking up at Draco for permission. Seeing Harry take the initiative was hot.

"Draco, I…" Harry said shakily, overwhelmed with desire. "Please," he begged, looking beseechingly at Draco. "Let me please you."

Draco wanted nothing more than to strip Harry and push his cock into Harry's wonderfully tight ass. He took off his trousers and pants and leaned against the headboard. Harry's eyes widened when he saw Draco's hard cock, and he automatically reached out for it.

"Not asking for permission, Harry?" said Draco, thinking he knew what Harry wanted.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry gasped, snatching his hand back.

"I think you need to make it up to me," said Draco. "Strip."

Pleasure pulsed through Harry's body as he thought of being redeemed, and as he yanked off his clothes, he very distantly realized that it wasn't completely the potion that was making him feel the way he did. Being submissive—wanting to please and then be found pleasing—his world focused on those two thoughts. "Yes," he moaned, turned on by the very thought of pleasing Draco.

He had never done it before, but he knew almost instinctively what Draco wanted. He lowered his mouth on Draco's cock and swirled his tongue around the leaking head. Draco hissed in pleasure and grabbed Harry by the hair, keeping him where he wanted. Harry took more of Draco into his mouth greedily, loving the pleased sounds Draco was making.

He bobbed his head up and down, and Draco clutched his hair tighter, thrusting into Harry's mouth. "Good boy," he groaned, and Harry whimpered in pleasure, his own cock begging to be touched. With a few last thrusts he came in Harry's mouth.

Trembling, Harry collapsed on top of Draco, overwhelmed. He was on the verge of coming himself. Draco flipped their positions, already hard again as he stared into Harry's lust filled eyes.

"You were a good boy, Harry," he said, grinding against Harry, who arched, whimpering. "A very good boy."

"Oh oh oh oh," moaned Harry, tossing his head back as he felt his orgasm build. "Draco, oh, Draco," he panted, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Look at me, Harry," Draco growled.

An added burst of pleasure shot through Harry as he obeyed, and whimpering incoherently and his eyes locked with Draco's, he orgasmed. Draco didn't stop grinding against him until he orgasmed for a second time, and when he did he sagged against Harry, spent.

"Harry," he murmured. "Spend the night with me."

"Okay," sighed Harry, enjoying Draco's weight. Draco shifted to his side and pulled Harry toward him protectively.

"Mine," he said tiredly, sounding sated.

Harry smiled into his pillow as Draco wound his arms around Harry even tighter.