Okay, so I think we've been through all the other stuff enough. Yes, we know that these characters aren't mine. Yes, we know that it's slash. I don't wanna hold y'all up any longer even though that's pretty much what I'm doing writing such long whatnot, but that's not the point here. The point is I'm kinda sorry (just a fraction of a hair) for getting it out like...seven months?...since the last post. I know that by all rights, it should've been in like December, but this is what you got. I must confess...it took so long because every time I went to write, I felt like a perv...and I couldn't write. However, I got over that, and now it's finished. So, without any further ado...here is the final chappie!!

Lobes.

Oh, and by the way, anyone who doesn't like this chapter's title, blame my Heather, because she refused to give me something better. She has agreed to take all the blame. Lol.

Again...lobes.

Freaky Hybrid Prat:

When I woke, my eyelids were extra heavy. Every muscle in every limb ached with sleep and begged not to be roused from their rest. Attempting to lift a hand to wipe at my weary eyes, I gained an interesting piece of information: my wrists were bound; to what, I didn't know.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. The vision was blurry at first, but it cleared as the moments passed and my eyes focused on my surrounding. Eventually, I realized that the green blur that surrounded me was my bed curtains hanging closed around me. Well, at least I was in my own room.

Once again, I tried to move my immobile hands, and again, I failed. This time, however, I looked to see what was giving me trouble. Tied to both hands at the wrist was a thin silk rope. The other end of each rope was attached securely to the head board. Well, that's disconcerting.

Who in their right minds would drug me, bind me to my bed, and leave me in my room alone?

It took me all of about two seconds to come to a conclusion: Pansy, that woman whore. She just committed the most deadly of sins: she went against a Malfoy. Nobody in their right mind would do such a thing...but she is a Slytherin, I have to take that into account. Well, now I know why she never told me who was on the receiving end of her little 'prank'. Now all I have to do is figure out whom the faceless, nameless partner is.

I wrapped my fingers around the part of the silk rope right above my wrists and yanked on the fabric. No give. So, there was only one conclusion I could come to: magical silk. Fuck. Whoever else was behind this either had to have some awesome connections or a halfway decent allowance; Pansy was always complaining about the price of the magical material.

Despite that I knew I wasn't about to get out of my current predicament, I struggled against my binding – you know, more of a frustration reliever than anything. Each yank neither tightened nor loosened the rope so it was a rather uneventful struggle. Finally, after about only a minute, I gave up. I know, I know, I said before that Malfoys don't give up, but really, can you find any reason at all in that Muggle mind of yours for me to continue? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Sweaty and panting, I slumped against my pillows once again, letting loose with a long string of colorful language, each word more inventive or vulgar than the last.

"Oh, I was wondering when you'd wake up, you lazy sod," someone called from the other side of my bed curtains.

At this point, I could view my situation in one of two ways. On the not-so-bright side, I'm tied to my bed and alone in my room with Pansy's partner in crime. On the bright side, I'm tied to my bed and alone in my room with Pansy's partner in crime.

Slowly and seemingly without provocation, the soft velvet of my curtains drew themselves to the posts of my bed and secured themselves with matching green velvet ties. The sudden change from vaguely dim to overly bright only succeeded in blinding me as I snapped my eyes shut against said light. Squirming, I attempted to hide myself from the offending light. However, seeing as how the silk remained in place and, as such, unyielding, I failed completely and miserably. A soft chuckle filled the air; obviously my captor thought my struggle funny.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.

The chuckle rang again. "I thought it was evident, now I have to explain it? Fine, I'm here because I obviously wanted to get into your pants."

"Yeah, right," I retorted, opening my eyes to glare at Harry who was seated on the bed across from me. "If you really wanted to get into my pants, you would've taken the chance in the Astronomy Tower. And speaking of which, the whole 'I'm gonna be a damn bastard' didn't score any points either."

"Oh, yeah, that," Harry replied, scratching the back of his neck as he stood, taking a hesitant step toward my bed. "See, I thought you were playing with me, with my feelings."

"Your what?" Okay, so the tone wasn't meant to be that taken aback. "What feelings? And when did you acquire them?"

He began to tick something off on his fingers, matching each with another step toward my prone form. One - two - three - four - five - six - "Seven months ago. Now, tell me, when did you realize you wanted to shag me?"

He smirked at me. He fucking smirked at me!

"I'm the one asking the questions here," I sneered. I tried to look even more menacing, but I don't think I pulled it off with the whole 'wrists being bound' thing going on. "Okay, then what changed your mind about my supposed 'I'm gonna turn him into the Boy Who Cried' schemes?"

"Seamus," Harry answered with a shrug and another step forward.

"Finnigan?! I thought he was trying to shag you! I even devised a list of tortures!"

"Seamus? No. Well, yes and no," he commented, leaning against one bed post at the end of my bed. "See, he hits on everyone, even Hermione, and everyone knows he's about as straight as a curly fry."

"As a what?"

"Never mind. Anyway, he's faithful to Dean," he finished, sitting on the end of my bed, causing it to shift under his weight.

"Okay, okay, okay," I said, shaking my head. "How did Finnigan manage to change your mind?"

"Well," Harry drawled in a very mock way of my own drawl. He slid farther up the bed. "He was the only one that really knew about the fact that I liked you; well, that I liked boys in general really. See, many will claim that they know that I fly for one team or the other, but no one really knew, except Seamus. Anyway, I'm veering off topic. I came back from retrieving 'Mione's essay and I was in something of a pissy mood - wonder how that happened. So, anyway, he was still awake in the common room when I waltzed in, and asked me what the matter was. I told him that you were being a poncey brat and that you were playing with my feelings and blah, blah, blah. Well, he said that seriously no one knew that I even liked you; if anyone had watched my actions toward you on a daily basis, they'd still think I hated your guts. He said that if you were pouring out your feelings for a second time that you must be sincere."

Harry stretched out on the bed so that he was lying right next to me. In fact, he was almost snuggling me!

"And all that was in one breath," I mocked. "Okay that I get, but what about right before detention, hm? What was with the change of robes and the mussed hair?"

"Oh, that," Harry chuckled, laying an arm languidly across my chest. "Yeah, Seamus took me up to our room to try to make me look...presentable. Anyway, he used gel in my hair - which didn't work - and shortly thereafter, gave up, and decided to muss it with his hand in defeat. And he thought that you might enjoy the change of clothing."

I have to admit, I did enjoy the change of clothing. Of course, I wouldn't tell him that.

Harry moved then, slowly at first, studying me with his green eyes, as he closed the gap between our lips. It was an awkward, almost clumsy way he claimed my mouth with his own, due to the angle. However, he shifted his body, throwing one leg over my abdomen, to straddle my stomach. That helped matters a lot. His tongue had free range of my mouth from his new position and he seemed to think that there was no better place for his hands than in my hair.

He pulled away and began to kiss a trail down my jaw line to where it met my ear, and he didn't stop there. His journey continued down my neck, nipping and licking every inch of skin presented. When he came to my collar bone, he looked back up at me, his eyes dark with something I could only label as desire. He smirked at me before beginning to undo the buttons on my shirt. His progress with the small, mother-of-pearl fastenings was sluggish, much too slow for my liking. But I could see how it was so slow; I mean it is rather difficult to undo those small buttons with one's mouth! When he reached the buttons right over my stomach, the shifting of the fabric under his button-undoing began to tickle me. Harry looked up at me when I started laughing.

"What's wrong?" he inquired.

I shook my head and told him to continue. Harry did as I told him, working his way farther down my body.

When the last button was undone, he opened my shirt, giving himself a view of my torso that - if the hungry look in his eyes was anything to go by - he liked very much.

"How can someone be such a fucking prat but be so fucking beautiful?" he asked, his eyes still raking over my body.

"Talent," I smirked. "And Malfoy genes."

"Is that right?" Harry asked with sarcasm, leaning in to kiss my neck some more.

"Aye," I answered as he bit into a tender spot. He shifted again so he could look down at me, one eyebrow arched.

"'Aye'? Draco, who the fuck says 'aye'?"

"Apparently me," I informed him. "Now stop judging my choice of words and get on with it."

Of course, he obeyed the order, as any good little Gryffindor should do, and he began to place light kisses down my torso, from collar bone to...well, when he got to my stomach, he stopped. It's not like he meant to, but it tickled, and I told him so, but did he listen? No. He just kept on kissing, even as I began to laugh and try to squirm from his ministrations. Eventually, it got so bad, I accidentally kicked him. Off the bed. With a loud thud.

"Oh Merlin, I killed Harry Potter!"

"Don't worry." He came up from the floor, rubbing the back of his head. "It'll take more than that to kill me..."

I sighed melodramatically. "And here I thought I had succeeded where the Dark Lord had failed - over and over again."

"You git," Harry mumbled at me as he climbed back onto the bed.

"Beautiful git," I corrected him.

Harry snorted. I refrained from telling him how unbecoming that was. "Remind me never to compliment you ever again."

"But Harry," I whined. "I like compliments. It feeds my ego."

"Merlin knows your ego's big enough as it is." He did that smirking thing again. I refrained from telling him to bite me, seeing as how he probably would. Again.

"It could still get bigger," I retorted. "You have no idea."

"I'm sure," he murmured as he leaned in to recapture my lips for a brief kiss. "Now, are you not gonna try to kick me from the bed?"

"It's not like I meant to do it," I protested, pushing my bottom lip out in what I thought was a very cute pout.

It was his turn to sigh melodramatically. "Oh, Draco, what am I ever going to do with you?"

"Preferably shag me, but you seem to keep running your mouth," I berated. "So I highly doubt that's going to get done anytime in the near future."

"I'll show you 'anytime in the near future'," Harry smirked down at me before attacking my stomach again.

I don't think it's necessary to tell that I shrieked, like a little girl, but some speccy, shaggy haired git, whom will remained unnamed, wanted to make sure I told the whole story when recounting this, so he made sure I included it. He wouldn't let me claim this one as a manly yell. Anyway, on with the story.

Harry attempted to devour my stomach through his kissing and licking and biting, none of which sat well with me, but he pinned down my legs so I couldn't pull a repeat performance, and I wasn't about to push him off, seeing as how my hands were still bound and of no use to me. So instead, I squirmed. A lot. Not that he seemed to take notice. Nope, he just followed my undulating with that wicked mouth of his.

"H-Harry, s-s-stop that!" I cried. "It t-tickles!"

He made one last, exaggerated slurping noise as he licked a line from my belly button.

"Stop what?" he inquired innocently, looking up at me through his fringe. He then pressed a kiss into the middle of my stomach. I giggled.

"That!" I told him through gasping breaths.

"This?" he asked in that innocent voice again, before placing yet another kiss to my abdomen, just slightly lower.

"Yes!" I was quivering and practically sobbing from the sensations sent through my body because of his flirtatious tickling.

"Oh, I was completely unaware that I was even doing it," he smirked at me.

"Lying bastard," I accused even as he kissed me again, only this time moving lower still.

As opposed to the buttons of my shirt, he made good time with the buttons of my slacks, quickly ridding me of the garment.

"Seriously, Draco, green?" Harry asked, his eyes glancing back and forth between my face and the monogrammed boxers that were the only protection from his gaze. "I mean, it's so cliché."

"And so is the scar, but nobody complains about that," I retorted. "Now, what happened to showing me 'anytime soon'? It seems you're a little lax on the job."

He merely smirked up at me. "Really? Well, it seems I'll have to fix that."

With one fell swoop, he'd hooked his finger under the waistband of my boxers and yanked, sending them soaring through the air, probably to end up near my trousers. He quickly mumbled something that could only be 'gorgeous' before he took me into his mouth. I bit my lip and nearly screamed as I wrenched at the silk binding my wrists. Gods, I knew there was a reason why I was attracted to him! The only thing better than the sounds I was making were the sounds he was making.

The wonderful feeling Harry was providing was over in about thirty seconds flat; now I may be exaggerating a bit, but that's about how long it had felt. But how can you blame me? I mean, it's Harry Potter we're talking about here, the boy I have this colossal crush on, so it's really no surprise it was so fast. Still, it was too quick if you ask me, and – judging by his quirked eyebrow as Harry wiped at the corner of his mouth – obviously he thought so, too.

He wasted no time casting a quick, wandless spell to coat his fingers in a clear, scented gel; I obediently spread my legs farther apart. With his un-gelled hand, he lifted one of my legs up and over his shoulder, allowing his gelled fingers to push better against my puckered entrance. All his cooing and 'soothing' comments couldn't stop me from wincing as his first finger pushed into me; however, his incessant kissing from there on helped with the addition of two more fingers.

"Ready, Draco?" he asked. I could feel his fingers spreading and moving inside me, filling yet leaving me oh so empty.

"About as ready as I'm gonna get," I bit out as Harry slid his fingers out, completely emptying me. I could feel his blunt tip as he leaned in to kiss me again.

He bit my bottom lip at the exact moment he made a forward thrust with his hips, entering me until I could feel the warmth of his thighs against my own arse. Harry swallowed my scream as he continued to kiss me. He didn't move and allowed my body to adjust to him for a moment. Then, without warning, he pulled out ever so slightly and pushed back into me; the way he angled his hips caused him to his that spot and fireworks exploded in my mind.

"Don't scream so loud," Harry whispered; his voice echoed in my head as the explosions began to die.

"I wasn't…screaming," I gasped. I spread my legs farther apart and arched my back right off the bed, trying to get him to make more fireworks.

He nuzzled the side of my neck. "Yesss…you are…"

Harry had continued to speak to or coax or command me; I don't know exactly what he was saying, because it was said in that hiss of his that just rolled off his tongue. Just hearing it sent me over the edge again. My vision filled with stars, bright white stars, and my toes curled into the green sheets of my bed.

By the time I had come down from my high, Harry was already slumped against me and I could feel the result of his own orgasm inside me; it was kinda uncomfortable, but it seemed like the wrong moment to mention something like that. However, I didn't have to remain in my uncomfortable state very long, because, as he moved to lie beside me, Harry performed a quick cleansing charm. Another mumbled word or two, and my hands were free of their restraints.

"Next time it will be better," he promised as pulled me close; I rest my head on his chest.

"Presumptuous, aren't we?" I mocked.

"No," he replied. "'Cause I know that since you now have me, you won't give me up."

Since when had he become clairvoyant?

"Fine, I'll concede that one," I grumbled.

It was quiet for some time, the only sound filling my shared room was our breathing. After some time, he said, "Told you there was some Gryffindor in you."

I slapped his chest. "Harry! That was vulgar."

"But true," he countered.

I huffed in defeat and it became quiet again. However, his little comment got me thinking…he never told me which House he'd be in if not Gryffindor.

"Hey, Harry?" I asked. He hummed in reply and I could feel the reverberation through his chest. "Which other House would you be in?"

"Evidently that's an easy one," he commented. "The Sorting Hat really wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I asked for it not to, so I got Gryffindor. Apparently, it was a tossup, so I guess that makes me some sort of hybrid. Gryffindor and Slytherin combined in one person…how many of those do you find?"

"Not many," I answered his hypothetical question.

Suddenly, he sat up and looked down the length of the bed.

"I really hope you don't have some sort of obsessive-compulsive tic when it comes to your clothing and where it goes," he said out of nowhere. "'Cause if that's the case, then I'll have to break you of it."

"Pft, like you could," I retorted.

Harry laughed. "Sure I could. All I would need is one hell of a plot, and evidently, Slytherins aren't the only ones who can create dastardly plans. I could do it."

The thought of Harry creating 'dastardly plans' made me think he'd become more Slytherin because of his exposure to me. So, but default, it'd be unavoidable that I would become more Gryffindor.

Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that.

Fins