*Third person p.o.v*

"Shut up."

Harry laughed at the annoyed tone Malfoy got every time Zabini and Parkinson messed with him.

"You love me," Said Zabini confidently, grinning widely at Malfoy, making him sneer at him. Malfoy looked like he didn't find any of what Zabini said or did amusing.

"You certainly are bitter, aren't you, Draco?" Parkinson reached over to ruffle with his hair like Zabini had done earlier, but Malfoy quickly moved out of the way.

"Stop touching my hair." He said sternly, making Parkinson chuckle warmly, sending Harry a mischievous smile.

Harry would've honestly never believed anyone if they'd told him 11 days ago that he'd actually enjoy spending time with Parkinson, Zabini and Malfoy.

But in all honesty, Harry was enjoying himself.

The more he was with the three Slytherins, the less they teased him and the more they began teasing Malfoy, much to Harry's amusement.

Though, Harry figured it was because he merely laughed it off now, but Malfoy always became so upset it was hilarious.

Malfoy always sat there, arms crossed, a sneer on his face, and did nothing to cover up his irritated tone.

..Harry quickly decided that he preferred when Malfoy looked more relaxed and was smiling, like he'd do when they were alone. He was more attractive that way.

"It only eggs them on that you're so bothered," Said Harry then, leaning closer to Malfoy so Parkinson and Zabini couldn't hear them. "Especially by something such as messing up your hair."

Malfoy turned to him sharply, "You're only saying that because you don't care how you look. Not everyone is as naturally gorgeous as you are."

The compliment was obviously sarcastic, but Harry still blushed a faint shade of red. "..You look good like this too," Said Harry, his voice low. He doubted if Malfoy had even heard it, he kind of hoped he hadn't.

But Malfoy did look good. His hair wasn't sat ever so neatly — Even though he didn't use that gel on it anymore, Malfoy somehow still managed to make it lay flatly — His hair was messier now, and looked a bit more carefree. Still not a completely messy bed-head type of hair, like Harry's always looked, but, it was still messier than usual.

It made him look more natural, and less up-tight in a sense. It made Harry wonder if waking up with Malfoy everyday would end up with him allowing Harry to see him without having done something to himself; Usually, Malfoy was really quick to run his fingers through his hair in the morning and make sure it looked like it usually did.

Malfoy's sneer faltered. He looked at Harry with a look that could only mean that he had heard it, despite Harry's prayers. Malfoy's eyebrows were furrowed, and if Harry didn't know better it looked almost as if Malfoy couldn't believe he'd said that.

But before Harry could get to study Malfoy too much, "I always look good." Said Malfoy simply, plastering his confident smirk back onto his face.

Harry rolled his eyes, though he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

* * * * * *

"I can't believe i'm saying this, but i'm actually having quite a lot of fun with them."

Hermione didn't look at all surprised, nor did Ron. Harry pondered whether or not they'd noticed how he acted around Parkinson, Zabini and Malfoy.

"Even with Malfoy?" Asked Hermione simply. She sounded stunningly calm.

Harry nodded, feeling his stomach flip just at the mention of his name. Oh, no.

"I thought Malfoy wasn't capable of fun." Said Ron then, sending Harry a small smirk, and Harry giggled.

"That's what makes him fun,"

Ron chuckled, "I can imagine." He said, Hermione beside him looking rather thoughtful.

Hermione placed her folded hands on the table, and then looked at Harry with such a serious look that Harry thought she looked as if she was about to interview him. "So you say.. You don't mind living with Malfoy?" She asked, and Harry knew there was more to the question than what it seemed. It was obvious just by the look on her face, Harry knew her too well.

Harry blushed lightly, "I didn't say that.. I just said Parkinson and Zabini are—"

"Right— But do you like living with Malfoy?"

Harry looked at Ron automatically, he always did that when he was uncomfortable in hopes that he would save him. Ron was chewing, looking at Hermione beside him with raised eyebrows. "Like living with—"

"Ronald." Hermione interrupted, not taking her eyes of Harry. "Do you?" She asked intently.

Harry couldn't quite read Hermione's tone. He didn't know wether or not she was upset about it, or was merely curious.

But one thing was for sure.

She definitely already knew the answer.

"I mean.." Harry swallowed thickly, "I don't mind it, we don't fight as much as usual, but I wouldn't say I like living with him. He's still.. You know, Malfoy."

"Harry.." Started Hermione, with a much less demanding tone. "You keep saying that."

Harry's gaze went over to Ron again, praying that maybe Ron could say something to ease the tension, or answer for him.

But Ron just continued eating, looking between Hermione and Harry, as if he was watching some muggle show on a tv.

Harry cleared his throat. "..Because it's true. You're right, he has been.. Well, relatively nicer to me, I guess you could say, but he's still Malfoy. Malfoy who's picked on us, Malfoy who you punched in the face, Malfoy who's insulted Ron's family, Malfoy who's—"

"I get it." Hermione cut in, calmly. "And I feel the same way. He's done and said some stuff that I'm sure I'll never be able to forgive him for— But, Harry, you just seem so.." She trailed off, and Harry looked at Ron again, thinking about how desperately he hoped he would just put his fork down and say something. "You just seem so.. I could be wrong," Hermione quickly added. "But you seem almost.. Accepting."

"Accepting? Of what?" Asked Harry, wiping his suddenly sweaty palms on his own robe.

Hermione watched his actions, "Of Malfoy." She said, shortly.

At the mention of his name again, Harry let his gaze slide over to Malfoy, who looked bored as Parkinson and Zabini were talking about something. He looked very much calmer than Harry felt — and probably looked — right now.

"You see?" Hermione interrupted his Malfoy-watching.

"What?" Said Harry distinctly, now being annoyed with Hermione. She kept questioning him, even though he'd tried to end the conversation many times.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, and Harry's gaze went from her, to the table surface, to his food, and then back to Hermione, waiting for her to say something. He was feeling all but a little panicked.

"Listen, Harry.." She started, and Harry found himself sort of afraid of the sudden caring tone. "You know you can tell us anything."

What was he supposed to tell her?

That he might have grown fond of Malfoy just because he made him feel.. Just a little too secure and cared for?

That Malfoy was funny in his own bitter way, that he was undeniably attractive and Harry couldn't believe that he hadn't really seen it before they'd moved in together?

That Malfoy made Harry just want to stay in bed all day, merely for the opportunity to be able to cuddle with him? And talk to him?

..Oh, god.

He was so screwed.

"He knows that, Hermione."

There it was.

Hermione turned to look at Ron instead of Harry, and Harry almost let out a sigh of relief. He even considered thanking Ron.

Harry merely send Ron an appreciate nod, and Ron gave him a small smile in return.

* * * * * *

Harry tried to act like he didn't feel like his entire body was burning up, and was walking around with a most certainly uncomfortable erection in the following classes. Honestly, whoever had come up with this potion just wanted to see people miserable.

He'd never been so thankful for the baggy robes they had to wear during classes and meals as much as he'd been since accidentally making the stupid lust potion.

The — now a little familiar — urge to start begging Malfoy was back. Harry wanted to pull him out of the Charms classroom, and back to their dorm. He wanted to beg Malfoy to do something, anything actually, as long as it included Malfoy touching him. And Malfoy naked.

But Harry managed to remain calm.

How, he didn't know. Because it was all he could think about.

"Pull out your 'Advanced Charm Casting' book," Spoke professor Flitwick, and Harry buried his face in his arms. His leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down.

Harry moaned as Malfoy thrust into him, "Right there! Oh!"

"Page 256." Flitwick's raised voice rang in Harry's ears, though, Harry couldn't have cared less.

Malfoy pressed his lips against his, kissing him with such passion it made Harry whimper.

Harry moaned loudly into his mouth, pressing his hips further down against the mattress so Malfoy hit that one spot that felt so incredibly good, over and over again.

"Mr. Potter, is there a reason you haven't pulled out your book yet?"

Harry snapped his head up, looking at professor Flitwick with wide eyes, and most certainly all too red in the face.

Parkinson, who sat in front of him, snickered, making other Slytherins do the same.

Harry glared at her, before looking at their professor again, "Er.. Sorry professor." He said, bending down, and began digging in his bag for his charms book.

Flitwick nodded curtly, and turned around again, facing a big black board. "So the most fortunate way—"

Harry had already cut the sound of his voice out again, and turned to Malfoy. "What page?" He hissed.

Malfoy looked at him, and Harry suddenly didn't care that much that he wasn't listening, because Malfoy didn't look one bit interested in what Flitwick was saying. "256, why aren't you paying attention?"

Harry glared at him in the exact same manner he did with Parkinson. Honestly, Malfoy should know the answer to that question by now. Harry turned to flip the pages of the book, landing on the page he was supposed to be on.

Continuing to let his professor be background noise, Harry watched Malfoy's hand, and Malfoy was playing with the edges of the pages, practically just teasing Harry at that point.

Harry wondered if Malfoy was into something such as choking. He could easily picture Malfoy choking him.

"Malfoy," Harry whispered distractedly, not taking his eyes of his hand.

Malfoy turned to him again. "Hm?"

Harry, despite trying to control himself, grabbed Malfoy's hand, "..Can I ask you something?"

When Harry looked up at Malfoy, Malfoy was already looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Though, he didn't pull his hand back to himself. "What?"

"..Have you ever.. Do you.." Harry was blushing furiously. "Have you ever thought.. Do you like.. Er—"

Harry had wholeheartedly expected Malfoy to be rolling his eyes and urging him to 'just spit it out', but when he looked up at him, Malfoy wasn't looking at Harry, he was looking at their hands.

Harry purposely put their hands up against each other, "What do you think of the size difference?"

He was surprised at how he didn't stutter, because his face felt all too hot and the way Malfoy was looking at him made him way more nervous.

Malfoy looked from their hands to Harry, a small amused smile spreading on his face. "You want to talk about kinks now?"

"Is that a kink?" Harry squeaked.

Malfoy smirked at him, probably reading Harry's thoughts. "If it turns you on, yes."

Harry's eyes drifted back to their hands, "It's not that I like the.. Um.. The size difference of our hands," He said nervously, trying to explain. Malfoy was looking at him so intently it made Harry's breathing further erratic. "I mean, I do like it but.. I just.. I like the.."

Why was he even telling Malfoy this? Fuck, Malfoy was going to laugh in his face.

"Go on."

Harry blinked rapidly as he looked up at him. The way Malfoy's eyes had gotten darker made Harry say it; "I like the size difference of us." He breathed.

"And you want to know if I like it too?"

Had Malfoy's voice gotten lower?

Harry found himself shamelessly nodding.

Malfoy looked at their hands again, but said nothing. Though, Harry was almost sure that he did like it when he noticed how Malfoy's breathing had almost copied Harry's.

"Can you.."

Malfoy first looked him in the eyes again when Harry spoke. "Can you.. Can we do that again? What we did that time, um.. That you did during.. Herbology?"

Malfoy eyed him up and down slowly, and Harry studied the way his chest went up and down with his heavy breathing, "..Fuck, you're going to be the death of me."

Harry didn't know what Malfoy meant by that; Nor did he care. Still holding Malfoy's hand, Harry took it under the table, and began guiding it up his robe.

He placed Malfoy's hand on his belt, ignoring the way his entire stomach was filled with butterflies, just at the thought of Malfoy's hand on his belt.

When Harry looked at him again, Malfoy's lips were parted, looking at the bulge his hand made under Harry's robe.

Harry whimpered when Malfoy didn't start doing something right away, "Please.."

When Harry felt him unbuckle his belt, Harry couldn't have stopped himself from shifting excitedly in his seat even if he tried.

Harry was quick to grab Malfoy's arm, just to brace himself, as soon as Malfoy slipped his hand down his boxers, accidentally letting out a whine at the feeling of his hand on his skin.

Malfoy started off by running his hand up and down at a slow pace, making Harry press himself against him, shoulder to shoulder, hoping his breathing wasn't getting too loud.

"..Malfoy?" Harry breathed against his own hand, having brought it up to his mouth to cover it, preventing his gasps and moans from being heard by the other students.

"Mhm," Answered Malfoy, squeezing him lightly, making Harry shudder against him, closing his eyes tightly.

Harry breathed hard into his hand, "..Can I suck you off?"

Malfoy's hand slowed, making Harry want to cry with pure want and need. "..That's not a part of the deal." Said Malfoy, now sounding slightly astonished.

Harry's eyes were still closed, and he used the hand that was gripping Malfoy's arm tightly to help Malfoy's hand speed up instead. "I thought the deal was no sex." Harry guided Malfoy's hand up and down, and a muffled moan accidentally came out of his mouth. He quickly turned to press his mouth against Malfoy's clothed shoulder.

"No. The deal is hand jobs and kisses." Came Malfoy's breathy voice, and Harry let go of Malfoy's hand when Harry had decided it was at a quick enough pace for him. He placed his hand on Malfoy's inner-thigh, feeling Malfoy tense up at the touch.

"Please? Just once. It's not sex." Said Harry, hopefully. He wanted Malfoy to fuck him, but since he wasn't willing to fill him up that way, Harry had to think of another way.

"..Potter.."

Harry's hand slid up his inner-thigh, and, much to his desire, Malfoy was hard too.

Harry moaned into Malfoy's shoulder, and thankfully, it was too muffled for anyone else to hear. "New deal.. New deal.." Harry begged, suddenly finding it hard to speak.

Harry's hand went to cup the outline of Malfoy's erection, "Potter.."

"Then you suck me off." Said Harry determinedly, "Please?"

"Potter.."

"Stop that." Harry suddenly snapped, leaning his head back and looking Malfoy in the eyes. "Stop just saying my name, I want you to fuck my mouth—"

"Mr. Potter, do you want detention?"

Harry quickly turned, and he felt Malfoy try to pull his hand out his pants, but Harry quickly grabbed it and held it firm. It wasn't like anyone could see it under the table anyway.

"No, sorry professor." Said Harry apologetically, just grateful that Flitwick hadn't interrupted them whilst Harry's face was buried in Malfoy's shoulder, moaning.

"Last warning." Was all Flitwick said, and send both Harry and Malfoy a disapproving look.

Harry sunk further back into his seat, and as soon as the other students and Flitwick had turned again, adverting their attention elsewhere, Harry used Malfoy's hand to palm himself again.

"Fuck your mouth?" Asked Malfoy then, breathing in his ear. It seemed the both of them couldn't have cared less about the warning their professor had given Harry.

Harry nodded eagerly, not turning to look at him this time, but only looking down at his own hand on Malfoy's disappeared one.

"Potter.. Fuck," Malfoy's hand sped up, and Harry sucked in a sharp breath. "I want to, but—"

"I want you to too. So let's do it." Said Harry, feeling even closer to coming at the mere thought of Malfoy's cock in his mouth.

Harry felt Malfoy's index-finger run across the back of his neck, a tender and gentle touch, making him whimper lowley. "How do you want it?" He asked, his voice a hot whisper, dangerously close to his ear.

Harry had never met anyone as hot as Malfoy. And certainly not met anyone with a hotter voice. "..I want you to push my head. Force me to suck you off." Harry wasn't sure where he'd found the ability to speak. His own voice sounded so distant in his head.

Harry almost couldn't believe he was actually telling Malfoy about his fantasies about him. But Harry couldn't bring himself to care. Not when Malfoy had agreed to do it.

"Kinky, aren't you?"

Oh, Harry loved it when Malfoy spoke. "..Keep talking." His hand went back to it's previous place, pressing the palm of it against his mouth as he moaned.

Malfoy's fingers suddenly closed around the back of his neck roughly, unlocking something inside Harry he wasn't even aware that he a thing for himself. "You want me to fuck your mouth until you can't breathe? Until you gag?" Said Malfoy then, actually doing as Harry asked.

The only reason Harry's head wasn't hanging low with pure arousal was because of the firm grip Malfoy had on the back of his neck, now squeezing impatiently, as if waiting for Harry to answer. "Yes.. Yes.." Was all he managed to breath out.

Harry bit down on his own hand — So hard that it hurt — so the urge to moan loudly died down as he came.

Harry took several quick breaths as Malfoy's hand slowed down, and afterward stopped moving all together.

He felt Malfoy let go of his neck, and Harry sighed exhaustively, feeling Malfoy pull his hand out of his trousers and robes, and back to himself.

Harry lazily opened his eyes, watching Malfoy push his own robe up and smeared the come on his trousers.

* * * * * *

Word count: 3262

A/N: