Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all plots and characters portrayed therein are not mine. Good thing too. The honor goes to JK Rowling.
Warning: I'm strange. And I'm a tease, so don't expect things to go very *fast*. May be a few spoilers and some wrong information or misspelled names. Also, some suggestions of Ron/Hermione, but there is nothing major.
Feedback: Public, any and all, please.
Notes: I fell through a time warp that severely altered my conception of time, turning 'soon' from a couple weeks into over a months. Okay, honestly, my inspiration suffered under my car troubles, bills, taxes, school, and work. For all April is my birthday month, it turned out really crappy this year. I am sorry for taking so long; I can sympathize with have to wait for something you like.

On another note, everyone should bow down and give thanks to my wonderful beta, Genevieve Pratt. She reviewed the first page or so I was badly stumped on and gave me some great advice to get the story moving again. She also reviewed the final product, which is why it has less errors than is standard for me. Thanks again, Gen!

"What to you mean 'try something'?!" Harry squawked in protest. "Ge---get off!" His voice broke when Draco shifted against him. His heart fluttered disturbingly in his chest. Their robes were the only barrier between them, leaving Harry sharply aware of every line and plane of Draco's shoulders, chest, and hips.

"You complain too much." Was his only answer. Very carefully, Draco lowered his face to Harry's neck and pressed his lips against the skin.

"H-hey." He could duck his head, use his chin to force Draco away, but he was still too shocked to react and then Draco actually *licked* him. "Ah! What's gotten into you?" Draco breathed cold air onto the dampness his tongue left behind, setting off a wave of shivers through Harry's body. His breathing quickened, panic and confusion badly blurring his thoughts.

"Shhh…" The pressure of Draco's mouth returned, stronger this time, kissing firmly. Harry felt his head turning to the side, offering more throat, without really thinking about it. His body was beginning to react to the pressing closeness. Then Draco opened his mouth and *sucked*.

"Ahh!" Heat pooled in his mind-section, gathering into a nagging itch. "God! Draco, I---" Harry's brain was starting to catch up with the situation and he struggled weakly, twisting his body. The pulling heat at his throat sent shudders cascading through him, powerfully distracting and desperate. Draco's hair brushed his face as he jerked his head around. "You---you----"

Draco made a noise and bit softly. Harry couldn't stop the sound that escaped him, hips bucking up out of his control. "Wait!" His arms strained against Draco's grip, the other's fingers digging into his skin. Draco's mouth moved from that spot, his tongue following the frantic beat of Harry's pulse. "Shouldn't---shouldn't do this---get off of me!"

"In a bit." Draco's voice had gotten rougher and Harry's heart beat faster as he registered the warm swell pressed into his hip. [He's getting off on this---] And Harry flushed with the knowledge that he was too. "You like it, so why complain?" Draco echoed his current thoughts, ducking his head to nip at the curve between Harry's shoulder and neck.

Images and thoughts passed swiftly. He remembered Draco changing, morning sunlight reflecting off his skin. He saw Draco curled in a warm bundle next to him, mouth gaping open in sleep. And the look of wholehearted delight when something pleased him, the way his eyes light up, but his mouth only curved slightly. And the barely veiled amusement when Harry said something funny. And the way his hair fell into his eyes when he bent over his work.

[I am enjoying this. Its good, so good, its what I want but it isn't. I'm *not* supposed----I mean I can't feel like this. He's the enemy---no, he isn't---not really. He just causes trouble---he's evil---No! He's not. Not evil or he would have done something---anything---wrong by now. Its just---its just---]

"Because!" Harry gasped, trying to make some sense of his whirling thoughts. "Because---t-the teachers---!" He couldn't like this, couldn't just give in. There was something wrong about enjoying the other boy's body pressed against him so wantonly.

There had to be something wrong with it. Draco snorted against his skin, hands flexing on his wrists. "Don't give a damn."

"Y-your h-housemates-ah---" Sucking lightly on tender spot below his ear.

"Can go sod themselves." Hips rocking teasingly against his, tongue tracing patterns on sensitive skin.

"Ah---Ron-Hermi---" Fear is a good feeling, so is guilt. And both are much more acceptable than aching want and desperate hunger.

"Aren't here." Draco pushed himself up slightly, offering Harry a smirk before moving his attack to the other side of his neck. Harry sucked in a breath, his resolve weakening, eyes fluttering closed.

His muscles just seemed to want to melt into piles of mush on the bedspread. Expect for one part of him that was doing the opposite. Draco's body fit against his, felt right in ways that didn't have words, encouraging the increasing warmth in his middle. He wanted, badly, to wrap his arms around Draco and let the other boy do what he wished. To finally silence that nagging ache, to put to rest all the suspicions and uncertainties, because Draco feels…

[Feels what, horny?] Harry's eyes snapped open and he felt like he'd been plunged in ice water. [Like a quick shag? Like confusing the heck out of me? Or is this because of the spell?]

[Draco would never feel this way for me on his own.]

"Stop. Now."

There was no reluctance in his tone now, no cause for argument or doubt. This was an order. While Draco was willing to taunt and tease and push when given the chance, forcing Harry was currently beyond him. He lifted himself up and released Harry's wrists.

Harry didn't wait for questions, he pushed Draco away from him completely, scooting backwards on the bed and ignoring the bone deep urge to throw himself back into Draco's arms. He adjusted his glasses and tugged his robes straight with shaking hands, trying very hard not to look at Draco.

The blonde teen remained half-braced against the bed, panting slightly, brow furrowed in confusion. His gray eyes were darkly shadowed, murky with uncertainty and developing anger. Harry focused on calming his breathing, hoping that if he ignored the tight, wet feeling in his chest it would just go away.

"What?" Draco said finally, twisting his body and bouncing up onto the bed forcefully. "What, damn it? What do you want anyways?"

Harry frowned. "Me? *I'm* not the one just jumping people…"

"You were enjoying yourself!" Draco snapped back, his normally pale face flushed, "I could tell! And I know you don't believe those stupid excuses. You never gave a flying fuck about other people's rules to begin with, like hell you're going to start now."

"That's not the point…"

"Point, what point? All I hear is you going off at the mouth!"

"Damn it, you started it!" Harry fisted his hands in his robe to hide their continued shaking. His body was hot, beating faintly with the rhythm of his blood and he wasn't sure if it was anger or lingering arousal, but he had the fierce urge to do something, to vent it in any way possible. Myriad emotions flashed through him, twisting his stomach and pounding painfully in his head. He was upset and having a hard time pining down exactly why.

"No, you started it! You started it by coming here, by daring to breath in the first place." Pain shone through the increasing anger in Draco's face, but Harry wasn't in any state to deal with it. "What the hell made you choose *me* for your little experiment, Potter?"

"You were just convenient…" Harry raised his voice, moving onto his knees without thinking, as if getting ready to attack. [How dare he. After what he just did, how dare he be angry with me?]

[But what did he just do?]

"Oh, just your nearest available bad guy? Couldn't get to You-Know-Who, so I was the best substitute?"

"You *were* safer."

[I hate the way you mock me, I hate the sound of your voice when you brag, I hate the look on your face when you'd done something wrong, I hate the way you attack my friends. Why couldn't you just leave me alone? Why do you have to be my enemy?]

"Well, that's nice. I'm not even a proper villain, I'm the 'safe' one." Draco's tone was harshly bitter.

"What, did you really think you were that important?" Venom dripped from his voice. It felt as if the entire week of getting tolerant towards each other was crumbling down, torn apart by aimless fury and uncertainties.

"Apparently not! It's a wonder you gave damn about me at all…"

[I didn't then, but you're always here now. Always with me, how can I not? But I don't know what I'm feeling…what you feel and it doesn't make any sense. I hate it! I hate all of it! I hate you!]

[But I don't…and I think maybe that's the worst part.]

"I didn't!" Harry was yelling now. "And I don't! You were just there, being an ass for no reason, making my life miserable, and *ruining* everything! You just can't leave stuff alone. What is your fascination with always being the middle of it, huh? And what the hell made you decide to harass me in first place?"

Draco's mouth twisted into a parody of a smile. "You were convenient."

That stopped Harry and he stared at the other boy with his mouth hanging open. Draco returned the look, his fierce smile breaking apart, his eyes shuttered tight and reflecting nothing. Silence was a vibrating force between them, laced strongly with pain. It would be easy to say something that would shatter it; a pointless jibe or jab that would dismiss the whole argument and life would return to what had become normal for them.

But one instant, one moment of comfort or anger or stress and it would burst free again, fierce and demanding, an untamed beast they had birthed together, only next time would it wait for so private a moment as this? Or would it happen in public, under the judging eyes of peers and friends?

[What do you want anyways, Harry?]

After a few false starts, Harry spoke softly. "It wasn't some big decision, I thought about it for maybe a minute. If that. I just…I just wanted you to…" He struggled through his thoughts, letting his gaze slide from Draco's eyes to his chin. "To back off, to not bother me anymore. You were such a nuisance. Must be fate that I got just the opposite. But it really wasn't…anything personal."

"Sounds personal to me." Draco turned his back to Harry, tilting his head back so the slanted sunlight caught the gossamer stands of his hair. "Flattering, though, to know I affected you that much."

"I'm glad to know you enjoyed my suffering." Harry growled in frustration. "This isn't getting us anywhere." He ran a hand through his hair roughly.

"It was supposed to?" Draco demanded, a sharp edge to his voice. He watched Harry out of the corner of his eye. "If you're looking for some deep answers, Harry, you're in the wrong place."

[Yeah, wrong place. But where *do* you go for deep answers, the library?] "Its never easy with us." Harry was swiftly losing his thread of conversation, whatever point he was trying to make slipping from his grasp.

"No fun in that." Defensive, striking without direction, only intent to distract and discourage.

"What do you want, Draco?"

The other boy turned his head slightly, eye catching the gleam of the light. "You, out of my life."

Harry shifted slightly closer to Draco, fingers pulling at the bedding. "And what about what just happened?"

"What did just happen?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but found it an effort to form the words. Heat in his cheeks warned him he was blushing. [Oh hell.]

"Hmm?" Draco smirked faintly, and Harry found himself wanting to do something serious to the other boy. Like pin him down and…

[Bloody hell.] Harry forced air into his lungs. He felt disoriented and even hurt, but mostly panicky. Somehow though, he was disconnected from the feeling. His still body tingled from Draco's assault, skin moist where the other's mouth had been. Gathering his rather formidable courage, Harry began to talk.

"For no reason at all, you suddenly pin me down and start…" he faltered and rushed on, "Start kissing and…and…licking…" Well this was coming out nicely, "Doing stuff to me! With no warning, no reason, nothing! I want to know why."

Draco scowled. "Are you really that blind? 'No reason', you say. Like I need a reason, some excuse for you? We share a *bed*, Harry. We shower together. We're living in each other fucking pockets and I need some *excuse* to want you?"

Harry's heart stopped. "You…what?"

Draco faltered, eyes widening before they narrowed, something hardening in them. Harry could almost feel him drawing into himself, a pulling up of walls that made his head sting. The blonde boy regarded him fiercely face expressionless. "You have ears. Or do those not work either?" He answered back coldly.

[He does…maybe not…but…] Harry shook his head to realign his thoughts. "Okay, so you admit to being interested in me. But…is…are you…?" He trailed off again, staring hopelessly at his companion. Draco's legs dangled off the edge of the bed and he kicked his heels back against the frame. The blonde remained silent, not offering any more thoughts on the matter, almost refusing to finish Harry's sentence.

Harry himself couldn't seem to finish it, a block of emotions stopping his words. The dark haired teen tried to straighten the jumble in his mind. [He wants---or is willing---to have sex with me---I think, and--and I want it too. A lot, actually. What's stopping me? Besides the fact that I have to wake up with him for a year regardless of what happens now.] He swallowed the thickness in his throat. Suddenly, that year no longer seemed so terrible. Better even than the years spent heckling each other, driven by a nameless animosity. Something clicked in place at the back of his mind. [Oh no, I didn't. I couldn't have.] Events from the past years took on a different angle. If looked at through that altered view, Harry's reactions could almost be taken as interested. Like a crush in a way, albeit a strange one. [Damn, I have.] This frightened him just considering it.

[I am in such trouble.]

"So, is that it? Just sex?" The words slipped out while Harry continued to mull over his revelation. How the other boy answered had gained a new depth and importance. Confusion and hurt were mutating into a kind of fearful hope and worried desire. Something was spreading in his chest that refused to be contained.

Draco paled, head bowing forward slightly. "I didn't say sex…" Harry growled something not entirely flattering. Loosening his death grip on the bedding, Harry didn't the only thing he could do in such a situation; he slid across the messy blankets until he was right next to Draco.

Ignoring the way his heart beat faster and his cheeks warmed, Harry spoke clearly to Draco's bent head. "How do you really feel about me?"

Body stiffening, Draco ducked his head down further. "I'm not sure."

"I think you are."

There was desperation now, clear in partially seen eyes. "No, I'm not. I don't think about it. In fact I *avoid* thinking about it. It's like fate almost; we're supposed to hate each other, supposed to be enemies, if only because our families come from different sides of the battle. So…I can't feel anything but hatred for you." He snorted, "Not to say that I don't. And damn you, I-I-"

"Yes?" Hope was a dangerous thing, but Harry couldn't stop it. His stomach was rolling and tremors shivered through his lean frame. He wanted to take Draco in his arms, pull him close and tight and comfort the doubt and fear, and right then, he doubted the spell was fully responsible for this reaction. There were probably a lot of other reactions that weren't from the spell either, but he'd never considered it.

Beneath the curtain of hair, Draco's eyes closed. "If you're expecting me to say 'I love you'---"

"I don't expect anything." Harry stated simply, voice nearly expressionless.

Draco's head snapped up, gazing meeting Harry's with the fearfulness of a skittish beast. "So I have feelings for you, lust after you even. I shouldn't, I don't want too. I do anyways, despite my best efforts." He paused, hand clenching into his ropes. "And the bad part is, I enjoy your suffering as much as I enjoy your happiness. I hate you when you're near and dream of when I can be away from you. When you're gone, I think---obsess-about when I can see you again." He made a disgusted noise. "Though I've been currently lacking in the latter. I want---I want to hurt you, but I also want to hold you and kiss you and…" Draco trailed off, blood rushing to his face.

Harry blinked a few times in the silence that followed Draco's confession. "That's…really disturbing."

A silvery eyebrow arched slightly.

"But…I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't say I felt…something similar." Harry winced, hating to admit that. "Though…I think I like you happy or at least *pleasant* more than suffering. It's just---there's no easy way for it. No simple words." The last was mostly to himself.

Exhaling, Draco fell backward on the bed. The air between them felt strange, untested, and tense. They were heading of into ideas unknown and neither had a bloody clue as where to go about it. "Well, as relationships go, this one sucks."

Cupping his hand at the nap of his neck, Harry gazed down at his partner. He wanted to think, to take the time to dwell on exactly what he felt and what to do with it. But there wouldn't be a chance for it, especially not now when matters were still so unsettled between them. [Don't just sit there, idiot, do something! You've wanted too and now's your chance.] Feeling appallingly silly and melodramatic, Harry reached out and softly touched Draco's cheek.

The other breathed in but otherwise didn't move. Tentatively, he trailed his fingertips up toward the hairline, curling into the feathery pale fall as he brought his palm in full contact with Draco's skin. [There's something almost wrong about this.] Protests against this feeling clamored amongst his thoughts, the same that had been voiced and dismissed by Draco, and others that weren't fully formed. Then storm gray eyes locked in with his, a maelstrom of emotions in their depths, none clearly identifiable.

[I don't care.]

And he didn't, because he was leaning down toward the source of his pain and desire, who was responding by arching up wantonly. He didn't, because their lips were meeting, hesitant on his part and more forceful on the other end, and Draco was one hell of kisser. It was going to be hellish to manage and even worse working through the bad karma strewn between them and the battlefield of friends and enemies beyond that.

But right then, he didn't care, because he was himself, and if he wanted something bad enough, he would get it. Some way, he would get it.