Last chapter. Enjoy.

He stared at Draco, his green eyes unblinking. "I have this map. It's quite ingenious actually, I'm sure you'd like it." His left hand began to trail up and down Draco's side lightly. Draco struggled to find his voice.

He found it finally. "I'm sure I would, Potter," he replied sarcastically. Why would he care that Potter has a map?

Potter, completely undeterred by Draco's sarcasm, grinned. "Yes, see it gives you the position of everyone in Hogwarts at that current moment in time. I happened to glance at it as I left the Quidditch pitch."

Draco's blood ran cold. But- But...wouldn't that mean –

His eyes widened and he could feel his mouth gaping. "You mean...you knew what we were doing all along?!" Draco wasn't sure if he felt angry, relieved or frustrated. All his planning had gone completely to waste! "I had my nose and ribs broken...for nothing?!" he said quietly.

He gritted his teeth, slightly pleased when Potter looked sheepish, his hands stilling on Draco's skin.

"No! Not for nothing, Malfoy!" Potter insisted, "I didn't quite understand why you were doing what you were until the second time." The way Potter shifted his eyes to the left made Draco raise an eyebrow.

"Alright, Hermione helped me," Potter confessed. Draco almost growled. Granger, and most probably Weasley, knew as well? He would get pummelled for sure.

Potter's hands started moving again.

"What you did for your house, Malfoy..." Potter almost looked at Draco in admiration, but then again that couldn't be right. "It was amazing. But do you know what I think was the most amazing thing of all?" He stared at Draco, his eyes seemingly fathomless.

Draco hesitantly shook his head, his body subconsciously moving closer to Potter.

"The way you handled it in the end. You're truly a role model for them, you know." Admiration, no mistaking it, was written clearly on Potter's face now. Gently, he cupped Draco's cheek in one hand and Draco was stuck between drawing closer and pulling away.

Potter's face was coming closer to his now and Draco couldn't have pulled away if his life depended on it now. His breath hitched and his eyes closed in anticipation.

"I think you're amazing."

The words were whispered against Draco's lips before Potter's own lips crushed firmly against them. His hands cupping Draco's face roughly and really, the most Draco could restrain himself was fisting Potter's robes in his hands, pressing himself to Potter.

Draco felt like he was drowning, though having never actually experienced the sensation he concluded that might be a slightly useless analogy. But surely if kissing Potter- Harry – was what drowning felt like, well Draco would heartily volunteer for that cause of death. He wanted desperately to pull away, take a breath, but every time Harry would press closer and Draco would willingly give up a few seconds of precious air.

Gasping slightly, he managed to find the resolve to tilt his head back and detach his lips from Potter, who instantly made a small noise of frustration.

Draco started when a wave of cool air hit him. Unsure of when his eyes had slid shut, he opened them and peered around the room. Potter was standing near his desk with his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles stood out starkly against the smooth colour of his skin.

"Potter-what?", Draco panted. What was he doing over there? He took a step forward, but stopped abruptly when the Gryffindor held up his hand. Disappointment welled in Draco, quickly followed by anger and he opened his mouth to verbally eviscerate Potter when he was, in Draco's opinion, rudely interrupted.

"Look, I'm sorry alright. I just- Do you know what you do to me?" Potter said quickly, his tone apologetic yet accusatory - something that should have been quite contradictory. His eyes burned slowly into Draco's, his glasses had slid down his nose and were in danger of falling onto the floor. They did nothing to hide the delectable flush on Potter's cheeks though and Draco could feel his attention slowly drift away from what Potter was saying and instead to his speculation of where exactly that lovely flush finished. Potter's neck...or lower?

Focus, Malfoy.

"Potter, what in the name of Merlin are you rambling on about now?" Oxygen deprivation apparently stripped Draco of whatever manners he usually employed towards Gryffindors. He refused to apologise for his bluntness though, he'd rather eat his own hand, and instead gave Potter his patented glare. "I have to tell you, this running hot and cold thing is really starting to irritate me."

Potter shut his mouth with a snap. His eyes widened impossibly above his spectacles, which were dangling precariously now. "But you...you pulled away," he sounded unsure now. A hideous, absolutely downright foul frown made itself across his face.

Alright, it was irritatingly adorable.

Anyway, realisation dawned on Draco and he could feel his heart lifting slightly. How on earth could Potter think that he didn't want him? After all, Malfoys don't let just anybody kiss them.

Draco, unwillingly, felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth and he rolled his eyes in a vain attempt to stop Potter from seeing the emotion he was sure had to be shining through them. "Am I the one who practically flew four metres away? No, that would be you Potter." He levelled an even glare at the increasingly speechless Potter, his eyes still wide behind his dangling glasses.

Experimentally, he took several steps towards Potter.

"I can assure you, I won't be running away this time." Draco stopped a few feet away and waited, crossing his arms over his still bare – and gradually chillier, now that his private heater had decided to have exasperating attack of conscience – chest. From the heated glance Potter gave to his chest, Draco assumed his nipples had pebbled from the exposure to the air.

When Potter had returned his gaze to his face, he raised a single eyebrow in challenge. Apparently that one single arched eyebrow was all Potter needed as a confirmation.

He fairly sprang into movement, attaching his mouth to Draco's without further questions asked. Immediately winding his hands back into Potter's hair, Draco sighed in contentment. Surely as soft as his own, though he doubted Potter had bought the same products Draco's mother had, Draco mused distractedly. It was springy yet had a certain crisp feeling to it that burned a desire in Draco to bury his face in it and breathe in deeply.

Merlin, he was far gone.

Pondering uncertainly as to when he had become so deeply enamoured with Potter's hair, and to the rest of Potter's delectable body, Draco almost didn't realise he had been pulling Potter towards the wall until he bumped into it softly. His eyes flickered open and met Potter's in surprise.

Potter was grinning wryly. "Bed's over there, Malfoy." Without breaking eye contact, he indicated to the left with his head. "I imagine it would be quite uncomfortable without a mattress," he said with a hesitant smile.

Instantly, Draco's mouth went dry.

Oh God, just the idea of Potter pushing him up against the wall and thrusting deep made his blood fairly burst out of his veins. A small whimper pushed itself out of his chest, unbidden, and Potter's eyes darkened when they read the heated desire in his own.

Draco found himself pressed firmly against the wall. The stones were cold and hard, especially on his bare skin, but having Harry Potter throw him up against the wall was a simply exhilarating experience. And then Harry's mouth was on his again, and Harry's tongue was hot in his mouth, and Harry's body was pressed up hard against his and they were kissing like the world could conjure up its next Dark Lord and they wouldn't care. Harry's hand was curled tightly around Draco's neck, but then they both drifted up higher to tangle into Draco's mussed hair.

Harry's hand curled around one of Draco's thighs and hefted it up to curl around his waist, their bodies pressed even more closely together from knee to chest and Draco could feel an answering hardness pushing insistently against his own. One of Potter's hands ran down his chest briefly, brushing Draco's nipples as he let out a groan. It continued its course until it reached Draco's waistband and Potter gently fondled his arse.

In true Gryffindor style, Potter managed to recklessly vanish Draco's trousers and pants, hopefully not along with other more vital body parts. Draco hoped Potter had the sense to leave those in anticipation to come.

Draco lifted his mouth from Harry's long enough to say, "I'm not even going to ask why you practiced wandless vanishing of clothing, Potter. And I'm especially not going to ask if Weasley offered to help you practice. That would certainly kill the mood."

Ignoring Potter's warning squeeze of his now bare arse, he gently fastened his mouth onto Potter's neck. He certainly hoped that the vanishing of clothes had only happened this one time, but marking Potter undoubtedly would help for a future reminder to everyone else.

Potter panted into his ear and muttered a few choice spells under his breath. He swiftly moved his now slick hand behind Draco and gently began to prepare him, his hand steady even as his breath seemed to rip its way out of his chest. And Draco's own wasn't steady. His mouth released Potter's skin with a final gentle kiss and shuddered a breath as one of Potter's fingers finally breached him. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Potter's shirt to steady him. Shirt...

Draco thumped Potter lightly on the arm to get his attention. "Still dressed Potter? Or is fucking whilst clothed a kink of yours?" he growled. As hot as it might be, it wasn't practical. Draco simply didn't fancy fabric burn from Potter's trousers added to the almost unquestionable scratches he would receive on his back from the stone wall.

With two fingers now curling inside of Draco, Potter let out a bark of a laugh and kissed Draco again hotly. "I'll leave the sexual deviation to you...Draco."

And with that, the Chosen One vanished his own clothes, removed his fingers and pressed inside Draco, filling him inexorably.

Harry paused once he was fully inside, kissing Draco deeply. Draco held on tightly as Harry began fucking him slowly into the wall, simply drowning him in the sensations. Maybe it was the thrill of where they were doing or maybe just because it was Harry Potter who was thrusting into him to assuredly, Draco could feel himself rushing quickly to orgasm and moaning like, well...Pansy.

Of course, she would curse him viciously if she ever heard him make that comparison but her absolute lack of skill with silencing charms was her own downfall.

Harry's thrust were perfection, almost teasing Draco to the brink but then withdrawing quickly. Every third stroke seemed to make white hot pleasure flow right down into his toes and tear a ragged gasp from his throat. Throwing back his head at one particularly deep thrust, Draco winced as his head cracked against the stone wall but even the pain of another head injury didn't seem to register through his blank thoughts.

"You know," Potter began conversationally, briefly burning through the haze that seemed to surround Draco's thoughts, "I don't think I've ever felt so terrified in my life." Draco struggled to meet Potter's gaze without his eyes sliding shut again, confusion he was sure was written across his face.

"There was such a lot of blood coming from the back of your head and when you closed your eyes..." Potter drifted off and his face took on a concentrated expression. He was thrusting hard now, pushing Draco to his very tiptoes on each stroke. Draco couldn't even seem to find the breath to moan anymore, his every nerve cell straining towards that orgasm which existed just out of his reach. Almost dreamily, Draco listened as Potter spoke again, close to his ear now. So close, that his every pant drew a small shiver out of Draco's body.

"Hermione had tried explaining it to me, but I hadn't listened. In fact I only seemed to realise when I saw you lying there, even paler than normal." He panted, a single drop of sweat running off his brow and down onto his neck.

Draco ignored the plebian slight on his complexion and instead focussed on the rest of Potter's sentence. "Realised what?" he replied breathlessly.

Potter bit his lip gently and impossibly seemed to push even further into Draco. "That ironically somewhere along the way I've fallen for a Slytherin."

Almost instantaneously a firework seemed to light up inside of Draco and all thought of replying fled from his mind. He shouted his completion which seemed to last a lifetime and dimly registered Harry doing the same.

When Draco drifted into consciousness the next morning, he stretched out an absent arm only to meet a disappointingly cold space next to him in his bed. Ignoring the hurt welling up inside him, he sat up quickly in bed. He stretched languidly, feeling a slight twinge of pain but something that was even more surprisingly.

Draco Malfoy felt relaxed.

These last few months in particular had been stressful to the extreme, but now that bird boy...Finch something was it? The name repeatedly escaped him. Anyway, he and his band of loyal followers had been apprehended. And, it seemed as though Draco had gotten his first good night's sleep since the term had started.

And yes, there was a crushing feeling in his chest upon realising that Potter hadn't even bothered to stay the night after well and truly fucking him into oblivion, but what did Draco expect. Potter was probably off doing his duty, saving some poor hurt creature in the forbidden forest. He rolled his eyes.

Draco was better off without him.

Or atleast, that's what he firmly told himself.

Potter was sitting at the Slytherin table.

The Slytherin table.

Had he Potter endured some freak fccident this morning and temporarily lost his sanity? Or perhaps gone inexplicably colour blind. Sitting at the Slytherin table these days was akin to being shunned socially for a year. Draco frowned lightly, before starting towards the Slytherin table, his gaze directed on one person who was currently buttering a piece of toast for James Nott, his hands bandaged heavily.

An amazed grin broke out across Draco's face and he momentarily forgot about Potter and clasped a friendly hand on James's shoulder. "Out of the hospital wing then?" he asked, still grinning. Relief flowed through him.

"Pomfrey finally said I could go," James grumbled, rolling his eyes in apparent irritation at the long medical treatment he had received. He smiled at Potter gratefully when he was passed back the now buttered toast and quickly bit in. "She doesn't half go on at you," he said flinging crumbs everywhere.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but you know she's only do her job," he replied primly, ignoring the amused look Potter was giving him from the corner of his eye. The fact that he was being an enormous hypocrite couldn't crush his happy mood. He slid onto the bench between Potter and James Nott, reaching quickly for some bacon.

"Juice?" he offered politely to Potter, who shook his head quickly.

"No thanks, listen about this morning, you looked really tired so I didn't want to wake you," Potter smiled gently, and damn it all Draco could feel his heart thawing again. "I thought it best that someone sat with the Slytherins just in case. You missed McGonagall's speech." At Draco's questioning look, he elaborated. She explained to the rest of the houses what happened last night and told us all that Justin and his...friends had been expelled." Potter grinned and shoved a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "Oh, and she also awarded us both 100 points each."

At Draco's splutter, he winked. "Thought you'd enjoy that bit."

Surreptitiously, Draco glanced over to the Gryffindor table who looked a little lost without their saviour, before wrapping a gentle hand around Potter's neck. "I enjoyed last night a great deal more," he purred softly. And then frowned. "I didn't enjoy waking up cold though." He mock scowled at Potter who was staring rather intently into his eyes, the amusement quickly being replaced by arousal again. He seemed to realise what Draco had silently been saying.

Don't leave me like that again.

"Maybe," Potter whispered tentatively, "we could try it again sometime." His hand had crept sneakily onto Draco's thigh under the table.

Draco smirked. "I'm thinking that's a given Potter. I've got you now and I definitely don't intend to give you up." Placing a gentle kiss on Harry's lips, he smiled again.

The End.