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Harry felt eyes on him and looked up, glancing around the common room until his gaze met Malfoy's. He frowned and tilted his head as Malfoy continued to stare back blankly.

“What do you think he's playing at?”

Harry turned to look at Ron, who sat next to him, with questioning eyes, and Ron nodded toward Malfoy. Harry glanced back across the room to find Malfoy packing up his satchel. He watched with furrowed brows as Malfoy stood and left through the portrait hole, then turned back to Ron with a shrug. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

They both returned to their homework, quietly discussing the Transfiguration paper due the next day, while Hermione read silently on the other end of the sofa.

Malfoy returned a few hours later as the trio were packing up for the night, and Harry watched him cross the common room and head up the stairs to his room. He couldn't be sure, but it almost seemed like he was favoring his right leg. He looked over at Ron and Hermione to see if they noticed anything, but their focus was on each other. He sighed and finished putting away his books, then bid his friends good night and retired to his own room.

Harry lay on his bed a half hour later, thinking through everything that had happened since they’d returned to Hogwarts. Not only was it an adjustment for him to be a student again, no longer on the run and hunting down Horcruxes, but he'd had the added surprise of a new common room and dorms that would accommodate all of the returning Eighth Years. Even though they'd been back for a month now, it was still jarring sometimes to look up and see students formerly from other houses sitting across from him in the common room, especially Malfoy.

They hadn't had much interaction, and what little they had had was strained and tense. Malfoy was different this year; while he still antagonized Harry and his friends, he didn't seek them out quite so often. He also had less friends to hide behind, as most of the Slytherins hadn't returned. Harry tried to ignore him as best as he could, life weary and tired of the animosity, but he never backed down from an altercation.

He turned on his side as he remembered the odd gait Malfoy had when he returned to the tower, pursing his lips as he wondered whether he'd imagined it. It was still difficult to disregard the old suspicions he had regarding Malfoy, but after almost killing him during Sixth Year, he’d vowed to try not to jump to conclusions and go off half-cocked. He wanted to approach situations with a more logical and thought-out frame of mind, even if he was extremely curious to know where Malfoy went and what he did to get injured. He sighed and rolled over, happy they all had separate rooms as he punched his pillow into shape and snuggled down to try to fall asleep.

For the next few weeks, Harry paid more attention to Malfoy. He noticed Malfoy rarely left the tower aside from classes and meals, and when he did it wasn't for very long. When he returned, he almost always seemed to be injured in some way, but it was never something obvious, or even really noticeable, unless you were looking for it. They still had verbal disagreements and scuffles every now and then, but Harry was certain he'd never actually hurt Malfoy during any of them, and he never saw evidence of the injury before he left the tower at night. He had to push down his suspicions every time, reminding himself that it wasn't his job to catch Malfoy, and it was none of his business what he got up to.

But, after a month of observations, Harry couldn't suppress his curiosity any longer. “Where do you think he goes?” He asked as he followed Malfoy out of the portrait hole with his eyes.

Ron looked up, then followed Harry's gaze before rolling his eyes, “Who cares?”

Harry frowned, “What if he's up to something?”

Ron heaved a heavy sigh, “Not this again.”

“I'm just saying,” Harry shrugged, “I was right last time.”

“Mate, you have to get over this obsession! He's a right git, and he could be up to something, but so what? Let's just finish this year with no wars or near-death experiences, yeah?”

Harry sighed and nodded, his eyes sliding back to the portrait hole, “Yeah.”

Ron grinned and turned back to his paper, and Harry attempted to as well, but the nagging in the back of his mind couldn't be silenced. After twenty minutes of staring at his work without writing or reading a word, he stood and packed up his satchel.

“Harry?”

He glanced down at Ron and smiled sheepishly, “I'm just going to check.”

Ron furrowed his brows in confusion, then realization dawned, “Oh, come on mate, just leave it alone.”

Harry chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, “I can't.”

Ron huffed, nudging Hermione in order to fill her in as Harry quickly made his way to his room. Harry pulled the Marauders Map out of his trunk as soon as his door shut, searching for Malfoy's dot after activating the parchment. His brows shot up as he found Malfoy on the stairs to the Seventh Floor; there would be no reason for him to be there, unless he was headed toward the Room of Requirement. Harry tossed the map down onto his bed and quickly made his way back to the common room.

He walked past the sofa where Ron and Hermione still sat, focused on the portrait hole, and Hermione called out to him. “Harry, is everything okay?”

He stopped and turned, backtracking to the corner of the room. “Yeah, it's probably fine, I'm just making sure.”

“Harry,” Hermione frowned, “You said you'd stop this.”

He tugged at his collar, “I know, but he's going to the Seventh Floor. I just need to be certain ‘Mione, that's all.”

She sighed, sharing a look with Ron before turning back to him, “Alright, but promise you won't do anything rash.”

Harry quirked a grin, “I promise.”

He turned and took quick strides across the room, exiting the tower before he could be called back again. He told himself that he wasn't following Malfoy, he was just ensuring the safety of the castle. He was calming his own concerns. He was protecting Malfoy. As he reached the Seventh Floor, he knew he was simply deluding himself, and he really was just following him. Harry stopped on the landing and shook his head; did he really think this was a good idea? What about the promise he made to himself?

He sighed and turned in the direction of the Room of Requirement. He might lie to everyone else, but he couldn't lie to himself forever. The old suspicions were still there, and Harry still felt like it was his job to figure out what Malfoy was up to. He tightened his fists as he promised himself he wouldn’t mortally injure Malfoy, no matter what Harry found him doing or what spell he shot at him, and continued down the corridor.

He slowed his steps as he saw Malfoy pacing across from the familiar tapestry, and he gasped when a door appeared. “I didn't think it would still work.” Harry whispered to himself. Malfoy moved to enter the room, and Harry called out before thinking it through, intent only to stop the door from disappearing as soon as Malfoy shut it behind him. “Malfoy!”

Malfoy turned with wide eyes as if he'd been caught doing something untoward, “What are you doing here, Potter?”

Harry took the last few steps to reach him. “What are you doing?” He reached out a hand toward the door, “What's in here Malfoy?”

“None of your business.” He snarled as he knocked Harry's hand away. He moved to put himself between Harry and the door, and Harry frowned.

“What are you hiding?” Harry asked with narrowed eyes.

Malfoy huffed, “I’m not hiding anything. I’m not doing anything that requires you to follow me around!” He shoved Harry in the chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps. He stepped forward, closing the gap that had been created, his face flushed in anger, “Why are you so obsessed with me Potter?”

Harry stepped up to him, “I’m not obsessed with you Malfoy! Why are you being so suspicious?” Harry shoved him in the shoulder, and Malfoy hissed in pain, wincing as he put more distance between them. “Malfoy?” Harry asked with a note of concern in his voice. Now that he was properly looking at him, Malfoy did seem to be favoring his right side again.

“Leave me alone Potter!” Malfoy said through gritted teeth, turning back toward the Room of Requirement.

“Or what?” Harry asked, moving to follow him, “You’ll make me? It doesn’t seem like you’re at your best at the moment.”

Malfoy whipped around, brandishing his wand, “I’ll show you my best.” He stepped forward with a sneer, and the door behind him disappeared.

Harry pulled his wand free and cast a non-lethal spell just as Malfoy cast something of his own.

“Ron, no!”

A third spell shot past Harry as Ron ran to stand next to him. The spells collided between them, blending together and rebounding. Harry quickly pushed Ron out of the way as a blinding light hurtled toward them, and he thought he heard Hermione scream before he lost consciousness.

Harry slowly faded back into wakefulness, eyes closed as he listened to his surroundings.

“-weren’t all from this confrontation Mr. Malfoy. You had several poorly healed breaks, and bruises that look at least two days old.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Harry furrowed his brows, unable to make sense of what he was hearing. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness as he realized the sterile environment could only mean one thing.

“Madam Pomfrey, he’s awake!”

Harry groaned as Hermione’s voice sounded shrilly next to his ear, turning his head to glare at her once he could fully open his eyes.

“About time Mr. Potter.” Pomfrey said as she bustled toward his hospital bed, “I was beginning to worry something serious had happened.”

Harry struggled into a sitting position, his head pounding. “What did happen?”

Pomfrey waved her wand over him, casting diagnostic spells as she spoke, “From what Ms. Granger has told me, you and Mr. Malfoy were dueling in the corridor,” She gave him a sharp look, “And Mr. Weasley tried to step in.” Harry glanced at Ron, who stood next to Hermione, and the redhead smiled sheepishly. “We're not quite sure what you two ended up being struck with, but it seems to have had no lasting affect on either of you.” Pomfrey continued, studying the readings as they shimmered in the air. “You both seem to be in perfect health.” She pursed her lips and glanced toward Malfoy's bed, “Or at least the same health you were in prior to the spells.”

Harry furrowed his brow and nodded, considering what Pomfrey said while accepting the vial of pain reliever she pressed into his hand. He didn’t look or feel any differently, that he could tell anyway, and no one else seemed worried, so he shrugged off the nagging concern that something should have happened when those spells collided. He quickly took the potion, then glanced at the bed next to him where Malfoy sat with crossed arms, looking anywhere but in his direction.

“Can I go now?” Malfoy asked petulantly.

Pomfrey sighed, “Yes Mr. Malfoy, I see no reason to keep either of you.” She turned back to Harry, “You’re both free to go.”

Malfoy stood immediately, crossing the room with long strides and leaving without a backward glance. Harry watched him go, then stood from his own bed and joined his friends.

“What were you two doing there anyway?” He asked as they all left the hospital wing together.

Hermione smiled apologetically and averted her gaze. “We were worried something might happen between you two, so we followed you.” Ron cleared his throat, and she rolled her eyes, “Alright, I was worried something would happen, and Ron didn’t want me to go alone.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, “Thanks guys.”

“So, what was the git doing anyway?” Ron asked as they reached the Fifth Floor.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, but the Room of Requirement still works, as far as I can tell.”

Hermione gasped, “It does?”

Harry nodded, “I didn’t get a look inside, but a door definitely appeared.”

Ron furrowed his brows, “What could he possibly be doing this time?”

“No idea.” Harry responded as they stepped through the portrait hole. He immediately looked around for platinum blonde hair, but it seemed Malfoy had gone straight to his room. Assuming he had come back to the tower that is. “I’m going to head to bed.” Harry said with a stretch, “Thanks for the backup, guys.”

They all smiled at each other, then Harry headed up the stairs to his room. He checked the map as soon as he entered, which was still lying open on his bed, and found Malfoy stationary in his own room. He took a deep breath as he put the map away, curiosity still coursing through him. What was Malfoy doing in the Room of Requirement?

Over the course of the next week, Harry felt Malfoy’s eyes on him more and more frequently, and he caught himself looking in his direction more than normal as well. He chalked it up to his burning curiosity to know where he went every few nights, shrugging it off when he realized he was staring, and any time they met each other’s gaze it ended quickly in a sneer or dirty look. He began having difficulty sleeping; he found it nearly impossible to stop thinking about where Malfoy was going, what he was doing in the Room of Requirement, and why he always seemed to come back mildly injured. If it were anyone else, he would call it concern, but because Malfoy was involved, he simply called it pragmatic.

The effects of the combined spell were slow. So slow that no one noticed, not even those affected, until several weeks had passed. Looking back, Harry could pinpoint the moment he began to consciously feel the effects, although he didn’t attribute it to the spells until much later. He was sitting in the common room, working on his Potions essay, when a flash of heat coursed through him. He looked up in surprise, but the feeling was gone as quickly as it had come. He looked around, noting that Malfoy was again looking in his direction before returning to his work. He had a sudden sharp pain in his index finger, and he gasped and dropped his quill to examine his hand. At the same moment, Malfoy swore under his breath and popped his finger into his mouth, where he’d sliced it open with the edge of his parchment, though neither noticed the other. After finding nothing wrong with his finger, Harry returned to his essay, his finger throbbing slightly, while Malfoy waited until he'd stopped bleeding before returning to his own work.

Later that night, Harry tossed and turned in his bed. He felt restless and uncomfortable in his skin, and his body felt flush. He hoped he wasn’t getting ill, and resolved to visit the Hospital Wing if he didn’t feel better in the morning. Thankfully for him, he felt as normal as a person could on only a few hours of sleep the next day. He would later blame this lack of sleep for his poor judgment that evening, when he finally gave in to his curiosity and again followed Malfoy when he left the common room.

Harry followed him down several flights of stairs, keeping a safe distance even though he was wearing his invisibility cloak while he tried to determine where they were going. As Malfoy led them down to the dungeons, Harry wondered if he was simply heading to the Slytherin common room to see his old housemates and was on the verge of turning around and heading back to the Fifth Floor when Malfoy took a sharp right. Harry frowned and followed, recognizing the path as the way to the Potion Professor’s office. He peeked around the next corner to see Malfoy being welcomed into the office by Slughorn, who didn’t seem surprised to see him at all.

Once they'd stepped through and closed the door behind him, Harry quickly approached and pressed his ear to the wood. He couldn’t hear anything, and as he cast a spell to amplify the sounds in the room, he silently thanked Hermione for always forcing him to learn every useful spell she came across.

“-wand please, Mr. Malfoy.” Harry heard Malfoy sigh, then some rustling. “Prior Incantato.”

Harry furrowed his brows, wondering why Slughorn was casting a spell that showed the last spells used by a wand, and pressed his ear harder to the door.

“Finite.“ Harry heard more rustling. “Very good Mr. Malfoy, I’m pleased to see you haven’t cast any more questionable spells since the one a few weeks ago.” Harry raised a brow, wondering what the questionable spell was and who Malfoy had cast it against.

“Thank you, sir.”

“That will be all for today Mr. Malfoy. See you on Friday.” Harry thought Slughorn sounded bored, and wondered if Malfoy did this every time he left the common room at night.

“Yes sir.”

Harry heard movement and quickly canceled the spell, stepping back from the door just in time for an irritated looking Malfoy to push it open and step through. His eyes flicked toward Harry briefly, but he didn’t seem to acknowledge Harry’s presence, instead appearing to simply be assessing the corridor before continuing back toward the stairs. Harry followed, still turning over what he’d heard in Slughorn’s office, which is why he didn’t realize he’d lost sight of Malfoy until he was looking down the long corridor that led up to the ground floor and Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. He sighed, shaking his head as he chastised himself for not paying attention, and headed toward the stairs. He was contemplating whether he wanted to head back to the Eighth-Year common room or up to the Seventh Floor to try to catch Malfoy using the Room of Requirement again, when his cloak was roughly yanked off of his head.

“I knew it!” Harry spun around, tilting his head with furrowed brows when all he saw was his invisibility cloak floating in mid-air. Malfoy quickly materialized, canceling the disillusionment charm he’d cast over himself, staring daggers at Harry. “Why are you following me, again, Potter?”

Harry huffed and reached for his cloak, but Malfoy pulled his arm back to keep the garment out of reach. “Give me back my cloak Malfoy.” He growled.

“I’ll think about it, if you tell me why you can’t just leave me alone.”

Harry clenched his jaw, his eyes on the cloak as Malfoy pulled the fluid material through his fingers. “You’re acting suspiciously, and I want to know what you’re up to.”

Draco lifted a brow, “And what have you learned?”

Harry shook his head, “Nothing. Now give me back my cloak!” He lunged forward, and Malfoy turned to keep the cloak out of reach, causing Harry’s chest to collide with his shoulder. They both gasped as a jolt of electricity radiated from the point of contact.

“What the fuck?” Malfoy backed away quickly, “What did you do Potter?”

Harry stared at him with wide eyes, rubbing his chest with one hand. “Me? What did you do?”

Malfoy growled, “I didn’t do anything.” He threw Harry’s cloak onto the floor at his feet. “Here’s your stupid cloak. Just leave me the hell alone.”

Harry stared after Malfoy with his mouth agape as he stormed past and quickly climbed the stairs, then he bent to retrieve his cloak. He dusted it off as he slowly made his way down the corridor and up to the Fifth Floor.

After a quick conversation with Ron and Hermione, where he learned that Malfoy was likely required to present his wand for testing as a stipulation of his probation, he headed up to his room. He lay on his bed, absently rubbing his chest where it had met Malfoy’s shoulder as he thought over what he’d heard in Slughorn's office, and the interaction they’d had in the corridor afterward. He wondered what the spark was, that they clearly both felt, as he drifted off to sleep.

For the next several days, Malfoy was seemingly everywhere. He sat closer than usual in the common room, they crossed paths in the corridors more than they ever had, and Harry felt his eyes on him practically all the time. He began to notice he felt strange when he met Malfoy’s stare, like he was overheating, and had almost reached the point of bringing the odd behavior and feelings up with Ron and Hermione when a new situation occurred.

He was lounging in his room, idly flipping through a Quidditch magazine before bed, when there was a knock on his door. He looked up with furrowed brows, casting a tempus as he stood and crossed the room.

“Who in the world is knocking so late?” He wondered aloud. It may have been a Friday, with no classes the next day, but midnight was still an odd time to be visiting someone. He knew if it were Ron, he would have simply barged in.

He opened the door hesitantly, and his brows rose dramatically as he revealed a scowling blonde. “Malfoy? What are you doing here?” He asked through the few inches of space he’d made.

Malfoy huffed, “Let me in Potter.”

“What? Why?” Malfoy pushed on the door, and it swung open a few more inches before Harry caught it. “What do you want Malfoy?” Harry asked as he stood in the doorway, one hand bracing the door.

Malfoy crossed his arms, glaring at Harry as a flush rose from his collar. “I need-” He clenched his jaw and turned his head away. “I’ll explain when you let me in.”

Harry eyed him for a moment more, taking in his bare feet and silk pajamas, and took a deep breath before stepping back and allowing him entry. Malfoy looked back at him, arching a brow before crossing the threshold. Harry watched him as he stepped further into the room, looking around as if the rooms weren’t identical, and shut the door before turning to fully face him. Malfoy spun around at the sound, his eyes darting down Harry’s body and back up quickly before he met Harry’s gaze.

“Alright, you’re in, now what do you want?”

Malfoy twisted his lips to the side and took a step closer, and Harry instinctively stepped back. Malfoy narrowed his eyes and took another step, effectively backing Harry up against the door. Harry swallowed nervously as Malfoy continued to advance, quickly looking for any sign of a concealed wand. When Malfoy was only a meter away, he stopped and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling through his mouth, and Harry flinched slightly as the warm air washed over him.

“Merlin, I was hoping I was wrong.” Malfoy opened his eyes to stare deeply into Harry’s, and Harry began to feel the familiar flush.

“Wrong about what? What’s going on Malfoy?” Harry asked as his heart rate spiked.

“I’ve been cursed, that’s what!”

Harry frowned, “What does that have to do with me? I didn’t curse you!”

Malfoy licked his lips, “I should hope not, unless you have a really sick sense of humor.” Harry furrowed his brows as Malfoy continued, “Someone has cursed me so that I can’t-” He frowned, “I have to-” He broke off with a growl, looking to the side as a blush spread over his cheeks.

Harry sighed, “Just spit it out Malfoy.”

Malfoy’s eyes snapped back to Harry’s, “I can’t get hard unless I’m near you.”

Harry’s eyes widened, “What?”

Malfoy took another step, “You heard me.” He said softly. “Someone cursed me so that I can’t get hard unless you’re nearby.” He turned and walked further into the room, away from Harry. “That has to be it. It’s not like I’m attracted to you.” Draco muttered under his breath.

Harry’s head was still reeling from the revelation; is that why he’d been acting so strangely recently? “Maybe you should go to the Hospital Wing.”

Malfoy turned back to face him with an incredulous laugh, “What, and explain the situation to Madam Pomfrey? I don’t think so.” He took a few steps back toward Harry, “I just need a good wank, that’s all.”

Harry pressed his back against the door, pulling as far away from Malfoy as possible. “And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?”

Malfoy pulled a face, “I don’t expect you to do anything, you perv.”

Harry’s mouth popped open with an angry gasp, “I’m the pervert? You’re the one who barged into my room and started talking about how you had to be close to me to, you know.” Harry blushed brightly and glanced over Malfoy’s head.

Malfoy smiled sharply, “That’s all I need from you. So be a good little Gryffindor and go sit at your desk so I can sort myself out.”

“What!” Harry flicked his eyes back down to Malfoy’s face, “You want to-” He waved his hands toward Malfoy briefly, “-here? In my room?” Malfoy rolled his eyes and turned to cross the room. He sat down on Harry’s bed, sliding the magazine away from himself before looking back up at Harry. “On my bed?!”

Malfoy sighed and ran his hand around his neck and down his throat. “I’ll clean it thoroughly, don’t worry.” He slid his hand down to the first button on his top, fingering the tiny closure before slowly pushing it through the buttonhole. “Now go sit at the desk, and no peeking!”

Harry exhaled angrily, clenching his jaw as he took one more look at Malfoy before crossing the room and taking a seat in the desk chair. He shifted to make sure his back was completely facing Malfoy, then he shook his head at the desktop as he questioned why he was even allowing this. He heard the bed shift as Malfoy presumably lay back, then shifting fabric and a soft sigh. Harry’s breathing picked up as he felt like a trail of fire was slowly snaking down his chest.

“At least put up a silencing spell or something.” Harry said harshly when Malfoy groaned. His ears were ringing, and he was blushing brightly as he felt a stirring in his trousers.

Malfoy chuckled, “I didn’t bring my wand.”

His breathy tone made Harry take a sharp breath and close his eyes. “Use mine. It’s on the table there.”

Harry heard Malfoy shift on the bed, and the soft scrape of wood against wood as he picked up the wand, then there was blessed silence. Harry kept his back turned, but he wasn’t sure if the silence was better or worse. At least before, he could tell where Malfoy was; what was to keep him from sneaking up on Harry and attacking when his back was turned, now that he couldn't hear him? His paranoia had almost convinced him to turn around when he felt heat on his groin. He gasped and moved his hands from his lap to grip the table edge, groaning as it felt like a hand wrapping around his half-hard prick.

He quickly hardened as the phantom began to move, gliding along his length with quick, fluid strokes. His breath came faster as the movement continued, and he moaned and gripped the table edge tightly as the warmth ghosted over his glans. He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth as he focused on not moving his hips the way he desperately wanted to, aware that Malfoy was still in the room and could glance over at any moment. The movement intensified, tightening around his dick as it quickened the pace, and Harry held the tabletop so tightly his knuckles turned white. He bit his lip as he felt the pressure building in his groin, and when another phantom hand cupped his bollocks, he came in his pants with a low moan.

The movement continued as Harry rode out his orgasm and tried to catch his breath, and the feeling was beginning to become uncomfortable when it suddenly stopped. He took a deep breath as he slowly released the tabletop, flexing his fingers to get feeling back in them. There was a noise behind him, and he was suddenly fully aware that he'd just come in his pants while Malfoy wanked silently on his bed. A mortified flush rose up his neck, and he stayed facing the wall in an effort to hide his embarrassment.

He heard Malfoy cast several scourgify charms with his wand, then place it back on the table. “Thanks Potter.”

Harry nodded, still not looking at him, and Malfoy snorted. He heard soft footsteps, then the sound of his door opening. There was a lengthy pause, and he wondered if Malfoy was going to say something else, then the door closed with a snap. Harry slumped forward to lay his forehead on the desk. What the hell was that?

Harry stayed in his room for nearly the entirety of the weekend, to the confusion of Ron and Hermione. He couldn't bring himself to explain, still equal parts mortified and confused, and even though being surrounded by the location of the embarrassment constantly brought flashbacks, he didn't think he could face Malfoy so soon after the incident, even if only accidentally. He was so determined to avoid a confrontation that he even had Hermione bring him back a plate when they went to the Great Hall for meals, though he barely had an appetite, and most of the food was left untouched. There were times when he thought he heard someone outside his door and felt the now familiar rush of heat through his body, but no one besides Hermione ever knocked, and he wasn't about to open the door randomly, on the off chance that Malfoy might be nearby.

By late Sunday evening, Harry had built up enough determination to venture out into the shared boy’s loo in order to take a much-needed shower. He'd cleaned himself up after the incident, once he'd gotten his wits about him, and he'd stripped the bed before laying down, but spells were only useful in the short term. He cautiously left his room, thankful there were only two former Ravenclaws still in the common room, and poked his head into the loo to search thoroughly before stepping inside. He breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed he was alone, crossing to the furthest shower stall and turning the water on before stripping and quickly stepping under the warm spray.

He'd just finished lathering his shampoo when he heard another person enter, and a chill went through him as he recognized the voice calling his name.

“Potter? Are you in here?” He sucked in a breath but stayed silent, even as his skin prickled with anticipation. “No use trying to hide Potter, I know you're here.” Malfoy closed in on the stall Harry currently occupied. “I recognize your childish Snitch pajamas. Honestly, don't you have anything better to sleep in? You're a grown man.”

Harry pulled back the shower curtain enough to stick his head out, “Why does it matter to you what I wear to bed Malfoy?” He asked angrily as suds slowly slid down the sides of his face.

Malfoy smirked, “It doesn't, but now I know for sure that it's you.” He turned and shot a locking spell at the loo door.

Harry paled and looked at him with wide eyes, “What are you doing Malfoy?”

Malfoy turned back to face him as he began unbuttoning his silk top, and Harry flicked his eyes down involuntarily, swallowing harshly. The heat had returned, settling low in his abdomen, and he ripped his gaze away from Malfoy and took a deep breath, pulling his head back into the stall and closing the curtain quickly.

“It seems I'm still cursed Potter, so do me a favor and finish your shower slowly.”

He heard the water turn on in the stall next to him and realized what Malfoy meant to do. “What? Again Malfoy? How many times do you need to-” Harry huffed, “-do that?”

He heard the shower curtain slide closed, then Malfoy groan as he stepped under the water, and his dick jumped in response. He took a few deep breaths, trying to think of anything to kill his slowly growing erection as he rinsed the shampoo from his hair, but he continued to harden as Malfoy moved around in the next stall.

“Oh, come off it Potter. Don't tell me you don't have a wank whenever you need to.” He heard Malfoy plunk a bottle down on the shelf. “It's a great stress reliever, and I've been a bit stressed.” Malfoy moaned as he stepped back under the water, and Harry clenched his jaw. “Actually, maybe you don't have a wank as often as you need to. That explains why you're so uptight.” Malfoy chuckled and continued to rinse his hair, and Harry growled but didn't respond.

He roughly soaped up a flannel and began washing his body as he listened to Malfoy move around, and he hoped that whatever had happened a few nights before wouldn't happen again. “Just hurry up Malfoy, I don't want to be in here all night.” He couldn't tell if Malfoy had already gotten started, but was relieved that he didn't feel any strange sensations.

Malfoy chuckled, “I have to finish washing up first. Hygiene is important Potter.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond and gasped as he felt fingers comb through his hair. “Oh no.”

“What was that, Potter?”

Harry made a soft noise in his throat as he felt fingertips trailing down his chest and over his abs. “Nothing!”

He pressed his palms flat against the tile and hung his head under the spray of warm water as the phantom hand wrapped around his prick for the second time. He groaned softly as it began to move, his hips jerking in time with the strokes, and he vaguely wondered if Malfoy would somehow know if he were to wank himself off. Surely, he'd be too focused on himself to realize what Harry was doing, right?

The hand sped up, and Harry stifled a moan, panting as his heart beat loudly in his ears. Malfoy groaned, and Harry couldn't resist any longer. He ran his hands over his nipples, tweaking them gently before sliding them down to his groin. In the stall next to him, Malfoy gasped and moaned, and the phantom hand began moving faster. Harry keened softly and finally circled his cock with a tight fist, immediately beginning to stroke himself as he placed the other hand back on the tile. Malfoy moaned, low and long, and Harry felt something hit the shared wall. He imagined it was Malfoy's head, and a quick flash of Malfoy stroking himself quickly, hips flexing while leaning his head back against the wall, popped into his mind unbidden. He gasped as his dick throbbed and increased his speed, tugging quickly as heat simmered in his groin. Malfoy gasped a moan, and warmth ghosted over Harry's bollocks. Just like before, the phantom touch pushed him over the edge, and he came with a soft groan.

“Oh fuck.” Malfoy gasped, and Harry assumed he'd also tipped over the edge.

He continued to stroke himself through his orgasm, then he stood under the shower head, watching his come slowly circle the drain. He took a deep breath as he came down, brows furrowing as his rational thought returned and he wondered if Malfoy had felt what he was doing to himself. He stayed in the shower longer than necessary, avoiding Malfoy as he stepped out of his own stall and got dressed. He heard Malfoy leave the loo without another word and sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted to do was have any sort of confrontation while he was starkers, especially to talk about the likely fact that they could feel each other when they got off. Harry shook his head as he stepped out of the shower and began to towel off, wondering if he’d also been cursed. He couldn’t remember getting into any fights recently, that weren’t with Malfoy, and assumed that someone had caught him unaware. Perhaps in the corridor between classes, or sometime in the Great Hall. He frowned as he headed back to his room, wondering why the mystery person would tie him to Malfoy of all people, and if he should go to the Hospital Wing on his own, or if he’d need to convince Malfoy to accompany him.

Malfoy was a ghost the next day, seemingly completely avoiding Harry at all costs. He didn’t appear in the Great Hall for meals, he was the last one in and the first one out of the room during any classes they shared, and he didn’t sit in the common room once classes were finished for the day. Harry assumed it was because he’d realized what had happened in the showers the day before, and was either dodging having to discuss it, or completely ignoring it altogether. He snorted as he realized that whatever the motivation, Malfoy was acting exactly how he’d acted after the first incident.

Ron looked up from where he sat next to him on the sofa, “What’s up mate?”

Harry shook his head, “Nothing. Just had a random thought.”

Ron looked at him doubtfully, then rolled his eyes and turned back to his Charms book when Harry grinned at him innocently. They sat silently, working on their homework due the next day for another hour before Harry interrupted the quiet with a sharp gasp.

“Harry?” He had doubled over, arms clutching his stomach as phantom blows rained down on him. He shifted as another pain burst from his side and groaned when a shock went through his left shoulder. “Mate? Are you okay?” Ron asked worriedly.

Harry shook his head, unable to form words as a sharp pain blossomed over his bicep. He whimpered as a throbbing spread across his face, reminiscent of when Malfoy broke his nose on the train in Sixth Year, and he suddenly realized what he was feeling. He shot to a standing position, staggering as the blunted blows continued to meet his abs, and made his way unsteadily toward his room. Ron jumped up, helping him up the stairs as he asked in bewilderment what was going on. Harry was unable to respond as the wind was continuously knocked out of him, and when they finally made it to his room, he pulled the Marauder’s Map from his trunk and shook it in Ron’s face. Ron frowned and activated the parchment, and Harry snatched it from him before doubling over once more. He took a deep breath as the pummeling subsided, exhaling a relieved sigh as he straightened up as much as he could, his body still aching.

“What’s going on Harry? Do I need to get someone?” Ron asked anxiously as Harry finally lifted his chin.

Harry shook his head, “I’m not sure yet, but I have to find Malfoy.”

Ron furrowed his brows, “Malfoy? Why do you need to find him? What has he done to you?” He asked angrily.

“Nothing.” Ron frowned as Harry continued, “I don’t think it was him. Listen, I don’t know what’s going on yet, I just need to find him, okay?”

Ron looked at him skeptically, quickly scanning Harry for any outward signs of distress or injury as Harry searched the map for Malfoy’s dot. When he found him stationary in an unused alcove near their common room, Harry quickly moved to leave his room as his anxiety spiked, the map fluttering to the floor.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked, barring the way.

Harry sighed, “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Ron frowned again but stepped aside, allowing Harry to pass. He flew down the stairs as fast as he was able, ignoring Hermione as she called out to him and quickly ducking out of the portrait hole. He turned down the corridor, bypassing the stairs, and quickly found where Malfoy had hidden himself. When he pulled back the tapestry, Malfoy flinched, and Harry gasped as he turned his blood-soaked face up to meet the intruder with a defiant gaze.

“What are you doing here Potter?” Malfoy asked after a beat of silence, putting as much venom as he could into his words.

Harry flicked his eyes over him, frowning at the rumpled state of his clothing and the bruise already forming around his eye. “What happened to you?”

“Tripped and fell.” Malfoy sneered, groaning as he attempted to stand.

Harry rushed forward to help, and Malfoy gasped and pulled his arm free as a spark shot through him when Harry grasped it. He stumbled, catching himself on the wall with his right hand, then yelped and quickly pulled his arm back. Harry caught him around the waist as he tipped forward, stopping him from knocking his head into the wall by a mere inch.

“Let go of me!” Malfoy growled as he pulled weakly at Harry’s arm.

Harry ignored him, and the pulsing warmth that flowed over his forearm where he gripped him, and turned them both toward the entrance of the alcove. “We have to get you to Madam Pomfrey.”

“No!” Malfoy pulled himself free with a burst of strength, slumping against the wall opposite Harry. “I’m not going to the Hospital Wing. Just leave me alone Potter.” He pushed himself off the wall and staggered into the corridor, and Harry followed him anxiously.

“Where are you going?” He asked when Malfoy turned toward the stairs instead of continuing to the common room.

“None of your business.”

Malfoy climbed the stairs slowly, wincing as every other step put pressure on what he was sure was at the very least a twisted ankle, and Harry followed a few steps behind him. Midway up the stairs between the Sixth and Seventh Floors, Malfoy stumbled, and Harry gasped as pain shot through his shin.

“I said leave me alone Potter!” Malfoy yelled as he turned unsteadily to face him on the stairs. His face was pale as blood continued to drip from his broken nose, and he looked more than unstable on his feet as he turned and wobbled the rest of the way up to the Seventh Floor.

Harry continued to follow, watching as he gingerly made his way to the blank stretch of wall and paced slowly in front of it. When a door appeared, the same one that started this whole mess in fact, Harry rushed forward to catch it before Malfoy could close it in his face. He growled but let go of the handle in favor of collapsing into a chair nearby, glaring weakly at Harry as he entered and shut the door behind him.

“What is this place?” Harry asked as he looked around the small room.

Aside from the chair Malfoy was currently occupying, the only other furniture was what looked like a narrow hospital bed. There was a low table next to it, holding a candle and a few potions vials, and along one wall were several shelves containing medical books and supplies, ranging from bruise salve to pain potions, and even Muggle plasters. He furrowed his brows and looked back at Malfoy, who was slumped in his chair.

“Malfoy?” When he didn’t respond, Harry rushed toward him and lifted his chin with one hand. Malfoy didn’t move, his eyes closed and his body relaxed, and Harry began to panic. “Malfoy? Wake up! I don’t know what’s wrong with you or how to use half this stuff properly!”

He exhaled harshly through his nose when Malfoy didn’t move, releasing his chin to gently rest on his chest before turning to the large store of potions and bandages. He knew he likely needed to stop the bleeding first and foremost, and quickly found a salve to help. He hurried back over to Malfoy and gently applied the thick cream around his nose, causing the blonde to make a pitiful sound. Once the salve was on, Harry looked more closely at Malfoy’s face. He knew without a doubt that his nose was broken, and he also knew he was complete shite at healing spells, and Malfoy wouldn’t thank him if he tried to cast one now. He sighed and stood to put the potion on the table before turning back to the still unconscious man.

“Sorry Malfoy, but I can’t help any more without probably causing more damage. I’m taking you to Pomfrey whether you like it or not.”

He leaned down and gently scooped him up, laying Malfoy’s head on his chest as he cradled the middle of his back and the underside of his knees. He gasped as he was suddenly engulfed in warmth and knew he’d be mentioning that to Pomfrey as well. He figured he wouldn’t be able to convince Malfoy to go to the Hospital Wing a second time in order to sort out this curse, so he had to take the opportunity when it was presented to him.

He was winded by the time he made it down to the First Floor, relieved when Pomfrey immediately floated Malfoy from his arms and into the nearest bed. He shivered as the warmth left him, replaced by an odd ache in his sternum that he attributed to their shared injuries. Malfoy whimpered as Pomfrey settled him onto the bed, and he moved aside as she rushed quickly to the cabinet at the back of the room, returning a moment later with an arm full of vials.

“What happened to him Mr. Potter?” She asked as she hastily cast several diagnostic spells.

“Erm, I don’t know exactly.”

She glanced at him before shooting an episkey at Malfoy’s nose, “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

Harry fidgeted as she circled Malfoy’s bed, casting healing spells along the way for injuries Harry hadn’t known existed. “Well, uh, I found him like that.”

Madam Pomfrey finally finished and turned to face him, “Where was he? How long had he been there? How long has it been since you found him?”

Harry grimaced, “He was in an alcove near our common room. I don’t think he was there too long, but it’s been a while since I found him.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I tried to convince him to come here straight away!” Harry rushed to say, “He wouldn’t. He was adamant that he didn’t want your help.” Harry shook his head, “I only managed to get him here because he passed out and couldn’t fight me on it.”

Pomfrey frowned, “Well even if he doesn’t thank you when he wakes up, I certainly do Mr. Potter.” She brandished her wand with the intent to wake Malfoy and force potions down his throat.

“Wait!” Harry stopped her with a sharp cry, and she turned to look at him. “There’s something else. Something is happening to us; Malfoy thinks someone cursed us.”

She raised a brow, “Please explain Mr. Potter.”

Harry vaguely explained what had happened that day, how he had felt it when Malfoy was attacked and that’s how he knew Malfoy was in trouble, and the odd feelings he got when they touched or locked eyes. He skipped over the two more intimate encounters they’d had, face flushing as he stuttered through how he had come to learn Malfoy thought he’d been cursed, and Pomfrey perceptively asked several questions that Harry didn’t have a good answer for.

“Well, Mr. Potter,” She said when he’d finally given her all of the information he was willing to, “I think it’s time to wake Mr. Malfoy and find out what he’s been feeling.”

Harry gulped and nodded, and she turned to cast a rennervate just as Hermione and Ron burst through the doors.

“Harry! Are you okay?”

Harry jumped and turned to face his friends as Malfoy groaned into wakefulness. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Hermione gasped as he turned, “What happened to you?” Harry furrowed his brow in confusion, and she pointed to his chest, “You're bleeding!”

He looked down to find some of Malfoy's blood had transferred onto his top, and he grimaced, “It's not mine.” Hermione opened her mouth to ask anther question, and he interrupted her with his own. “How did you know I was here?”

She frowned at him as if it were obvious, while Ron chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, “The map of course.”

Harry nodded, half turned to listen as Madam Pomfrey forced Malfoy to drink several blood replenishing potions and a pain reliever before asking how he felt and if there were any other injuries she hadn’t found.

“So, what are you doing here Harry?” Ron asked as he looked him up and down.

With no sign of injury to himself, Harry had no choice but to tell them the truth. “Oh, um, I brought Malfoy here.”

Ron scrunched his face, “Why?”

“He was hurt.” Harry shrugged.

“Yes, Mr. Potter carried Mr. Malfoy in just in time I would say.” Madam Pomfrey interjected.

Harry glanced over at her, briefly meeting Malfoy’s scowl before Ron called his attention back. “You carried him?” Ron asked incredulously, his eyes flicking down to the blood stain briefly.

“Why didn’t you just levitate him, Harry?” Hermione asked with a furrowed brow.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze, “I didn’t think about it.” He chuckled.

“Should have just left him wherever you found him.” Ron muttered, and Hermione smacked him on the arm. “Ow!”

“Just because it’s Malfoy doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve medical attention.” Hermione hissed.

“Mr. Malfoy, please tell me more about this curse that you believe has befallen you and Mr. Potter.”

Harry turned sharply to look at Malfoy, whose face had drained from the color he’d regained after the blood replenishing potion. “What?”

“Harry, you didn’t tell us you thought you’d been cursed!” Hermione said as Harry continued to watch Malfoy.

“How much did he tell you?” Malfoy asked, darting his eyes between Pomfrey and Harry.

“Mate, what kind of curse is it? How long have you been cursed?” Ron asked as Pomfrey cast a silencing spell around herself and Malfoy.

Harry took one last look as Malfoy began to speak, then turned back to his friends. “I don’t know Ron.”

“Why didn’t you mention it to us?” Hermione asked, the hurt evident in her voice.

“I didn’t think I’d been cursed at all. I thought it was just Malfoy.”

Hermione frowned, “What do you mean?”

Harry again explained what had been happening over the last few weeks, even more vaguely than he had with Pomfrey, as he assumed Malfoy did the same behind him.

“That doesn’t sound like any spell I know of.” Ron said with furrowed brows. “’Mione?”

Hermione looked thoughtful, “How long did you say this had been going on?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, a couple of weeks?”

“When was the first time you noticed something odd?” She asked, pacing as she thought.

Harry sighed, “I don’t know ‘Mione, I don’t keep tabs on how I feel every moment of every day.”

She frowned at him, “I have a suspicion Harry, but I want to make sure I’m right first.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped, “Right, sorry. Let me think.” Harry thought back to before Malfoy had shown up at his door that weekend, how he’d felt the odd warmth for a week before that, then how it had seemed like Malfoy was gravitating toward him, or maybe they were gravitating toward each other, even before that, and sighed. “Maybe a month?”

Hermione hummed, “That’s what I was afraid of.” She turned to face him, “I think this has something to do with the combination of spells you were both hit with a month ago.”

“My thoughts as well Ms. Granger.” They all turned to face Pomfrey and Malfoy, who had apparently finished their conversation just as Hermione had voiced her theory. Malfoy’s face was flushed, and Harry wondered if he’d revealed what Harry hadn’t. He blushed and looked down, suddenly bashful. “I need to know exactly what spells were cast by you three.” Pomfrey said, looking between Harry, Ron, and Malfoy.

Harry looked back up, “I just cast an expelliarmus.”

Malfoy scoffed, “Of course you did.”

Harry shot him a glare, “Well, what did you cast?”

Malfoy scowled and looked away, and Ron cleared his throat. “I cast an incarcerous.” Harry and Hermione both looked at him sharply. “What? Who knows what he was going to do to Harry!”

Harry shook his head and laughed, “Thanks Ron.”

“Mr. Malfoy?” Pomfrey asked expectantly.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Malfoy’s eyes darted between them all before settling on Harry. “I cast confringo.”

Pomfrey gasped, “Mr. Malfoy, what were you thinking?”

“I just wanted him to leave me alone!”

Harry looked between them, “So, what does this mean? What do those spells make?” He asked after several beats of silence.

Pomfrey sighed, “Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, I believe it would be best to finish this discussion in my office.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he glanced at Hermione and Ron nervously before following her to the door at the back of the room. “Are we dying or something?” he asked anxiously as she shut the door behind them. When she didn’t respond, he looked apprehensively at Malfoy.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know anything more than you do.”

Harry huffed and returned his gaze to Pomfrey, sitting gingerly in a chair when she directed him to. He glanced at Malfoy, who stood defiantly near the door, then turned his full attention back to where Pomfrey sat behind her desk.

“Usually, an odd combination of spells wouldn’t have had much of an affect at all. Being briefly knocked unconscious should have been the end of it.” She glanced between them, “However, I believe that, due to the kind of spells involved, and the animosity you have toward each other, you’ve both been affected by a variation of a very old, very obscure bit of bonding magic.” Harry furrowed his brows, and she continued, “This bit of magic was intended to assist in initiating the process of bonding two families together, by way of an heir.”

Harry sucked in a breath, “What does that mean exactly?”

Pomfrey sighed, “If I’m correct Mr. Potter, it means that you and Mr. Malfoy must consummate the relationship, or the spell will slowly kill you.”

“What?” Harry jumped up from his chair and looked wildly between Pomfrey and an extremely pale Malfoy, “We have to what?”

Malfoy lifted his chin, “That can’t be what we’re experiencing.” He said with false bravado. Harry furrowed his brows and looked at Malfoy questioningly. “The only way that kind of spell would work is if at least one of us were a virgin.”

Harry swallowed and looked down as Pomfrey asked, “How would you possibly know that Mr. Malfoy?”

“My father made certain I learned all of our family history, including any spells that were used to help facilitate a stronger bond between the bride and groom in the past.” He sneered at her, then glanced at Harry. “Potter?” Harry flicked his gaze up without lifting his head, his cheeks rosy, and Malfoy gasped, “No, not possible!” He laughed incredulously, “How could you possibly still be a virgin, Potter?”

Harry looked up angrily, “I’ve been a little busy, alright?”

They stared at each other in silence, and the amusement slowly drained from Malfoy’s face as he realized what that meant. “Shite.”

“Language Mr. Malfoy!”

He glanced at Pomfrey, then back at Harry before turning to face the door. “I’d rather die.”

Harry scoffed as Malfoy wrenched open the door and stepped out, “You’re no prize either Malfoy!” He yelled at his back. He turned back to Madam Pomfrey, still sitting wearily at her desk. “What exactly will happen to us if we don’t, erm, comply?”

“What you’ve been feeling will continue to intensify, to the point where you won’t be able to tell where your consciousness ends and his begins.” She frowned sadly, “Your life force will slowly be siphoned away, beginning as exhaustion and lethargy, and progressing to the point where you’re unable to move on your own. The longer you go without bodily contact, the more painful it will be if and when you do touch. If you continue to avoid the issue, you’ll slowly lose your appetite until you waste away, as you won’t be able to take in nutrients by any means. Any sustenance you attempt to consume, be it food or potions, will be rejected violently by your body.” She sighed at his dejected look. “It’s a very painful way to go Mr. Potter.”

Harry blew out a breath, “And there's no other way to end the spell?”

Pomfrey shook her head, “None that I'm aware of.”

“How long does it take to run its course? Maybe we can research-"

She cut him off with a raised palm, “By all accounts, you shouldn't have lasted this long. It seems that because of the unusual circumstances, the consequences have been slower to appear, but I wouldn't be surprised if you two only had a few more weeks.”

Harry's heart sank, but he held out hope that perhaps Malfoy knew something she didn't. He thanked Pomfrey softly and stepped out of her office, hoping he could convince Malfoy to speak with him when he got back to the tower.

“Is everything okay?” Hermione asked as soon as Harry rejoined them.

“Yeah.” She raised a skeptical brow, and Harry amended, “I mean no, but it will be.”

Harry sat on the cold stone floor, head tilted back against the wall and eyes closed, waiting. Ron and Hermione had peppered him with questions on their way back to the common room the night before, but Harry couldn't bring himself to explain exactly what was happening between him and Malfoy. He knew it would only send Hermione into research mode, where she would scour the library for any mention of a similar curse and its cure, aside from the obvious, and Ron would give him baleful, sympathetic eyes any time their gazes met, and Harry simply didn't have the energy for it. So, he'd only told them that Hermione's hypothesis had been correct, and he and Malfoy had to work together to break the effect of the combined spells.

He'd looked for Malfoy as soon as they returned to the common room, unsurprised to find he wasn't there. He went to Malfoy’s room and knocked, but there was no response. He then went to his own room, checked the map, and found Malfoy was indeed inside, so he returned to knock and plead for Malfoy to answer so that they could talk. The door remained stubbornly closed, and Harry gave up in favor of a few hours rest.

The next morning, he'd gone back to Malfoy's room to try again but received the same response. After getting dressed for the day, he checked the map to find Malfoy wasn't in his room. He searched the entire parchment, only to find he wasn't on the map at all, which meant he could only be in one place.

That's why Harry now found himself waiting on the Seventh Floor. He knew Malfoy had to come out sometime; even if it wasn't for food, which the Room of Requirement didn't provide, there were still classes to attend, and Malfoy seemed more focused on his education this year. He thought about what he might have to do, if Malfoy didn't have another option for how to break the bond, and while there was no love lost between them, He decided that he would suffer through sleeping with Malfoy in order to continue existing, even though that meant giving him something that he could never give to someone else.

He looked over at the sound of a door opening, quickly rising to his feet as Malfoy appeared. The movement caught Malfoy's attention, and he looked up sharply.

“Oh hell no.” He stepped back through the doorway, and Harry darted forward to catch the door before Malfoy could slam it in his face. “Leave me alone Potter!” Malfoy bellowed as he attempted to pull the door free.

“I just want to talk Malfoy!” Harry said as he yanked the door open and joined Malfoy in the small room.

“I don't want to talk to you.” Malfoy growled, shoving Harry against the closed door with both hands. He quickly pulled his hands back with a startled yelp as white-hot electricity sparked through him, and Harry echoed the sound.

“Pomfrey wasn't kidding.” Harry said as he rubbed his chest, “Why did that hurt so badly?”

Malfoy lifted a brow, “I suppose it has to do with the nature of this little interaction.” He sneered, “I assume it didn't feel like that when you took me to the Hospital Wing against my will?”

Harry clenched his jaw, “I was saving your life Malfoy!” Malfoy huffed and crossed his arms, “And now at least we know what's happening to us!”

Malfoy turned and paced to the back of the room, his shoulders tight. “Not that it matters.”

“That's what I wanted to talk to you about actually.” Harry took a few steps and Malfoy turned sharply with a scowl. “Do you know of any other way to break this thing?”

Malfoy's face softened minutely, “No. As far as I know, there are only two ways out of this: death or consummation.”

Harry swallowed nervously, “But your dad made you learn all about this stuff. There's nothing?” He asked desperately.

Malfoy’s voice hardened, “Don't you think I would have mentioned it by now if there was?” He glanced to the side, “Besides, bonding spells are meant to be ironclad. What use would a spell be if it didn't force the desired outcome?”

Harry frowned, searching Malfoy's face as he wondered if Lucius had intended to use a similar spell on his son before he was sent to Azkaban. “Then I guess we have no choice.”

Malfoy flicked his eyes back up, pinning Harry with his steely gaze, “Didn't you hear me yesterday, Potter? I'd rather die.”

Harry crossed his arms, “Look, I don't want to fuck you any more than you want to fuck me,” Malfoy scoffed, “And I certainly don't want to give you my virginity,” Malfoy smirked as Harry's cheeks began to heat, “But I didn't come back to life just to be killed by a stupid accident.” Malfoy furrowed his brows, but Harry didn't give him a chance to ask. “If it's because I'm a bloke, then maybe-"

“Wait.” Malfoy held up a hand and Harry paused. “You think it's because we're both blokes? I don't give a shite about that, it's that it's you.” Harry frowned as Malfoy continued, “Do you think I want to make your life easier in any way? I finally have the opportunity to rid the world of your self-absorbed arse! If I have to die to do it, so be it.”

Harry's mouth dropped open, “Are you serious?”

Draco lifted his chin, “Does it matter?”

Harry growled and gritted his teeth, “Why are you being such an arsehole Malfoy? We do this once, break the bond or whatever, and never speak of it again.”

Malfoy shook his head, “It's not that easy Potter. We can't just fuck and be done; we have to enjoy it.”

Harry dropped his arms, “What?”

Malfoy took a deep breath, “We both have to orgasm.” Harry squinted at him; he recalled what he'd felt when Malfoy wanked himself and was fairly certain they could find a way to fulfill that requirement. “And don't even think about trying to force me to participate. Both parties have to go in willingly.”

Harry gasped, “I would never do that. What kind of person do you think I am?”

Malfoy smirked, “Well, you're here basically begging me to fuck you, so I'd say a pretty desperate one.”

Harry growled and rushed forward, quickly closing the gap between them. He shoved Malfoy against the wall, ignoring the spike of heat against his palms and caging him in with a hand on either side of his head. “I’m not begging you to fuck me Malfoy.” He said darkly, “I’m asking you to work with me on breaking this fucking curse so that we can both move on with our lives.”

Malfoy swallowed harshly as he met Harry’s fierce glare, narrowing his eyes cruelly, “I said no.”

Harry took a deep breath, releasing it aggressively before stepping back. “Fine.” He said through clenched teeth. “It’s sad that you don’t have anything worth living for Malfoy.” He threw over his shoulder as he crossed the room and exited into the corridor.

By the end of the week, Harry felt like he hadn’t slept in a year. He was run down, lacked the motivation to do even simple tasks, and barely ate, and he assumed that Malfoy felt the same. During the few times Harry caught a glimpse of him, Malfoy looked about like Harry felt, and he wondered if he was regretting his decision. Ron and Hermione had become increasingly worried, begging Harry to tell them what was happening or at the very least make another trip to the Hospital Wing, but Harry refused on both counts. He told them they wouldn’t be able to help if he did tell them, and didn’t want them to worry, and explained that there was nothing Pomfrey could do for either of them. The most he would tell them was that Malfoy had to be willing to work with him in order to break the spell, and he wasn’t, which resulted in Ron’s misguided attempt to bully Malfoy into compliance. Unfortunately for Harry, that may have forced him even further away from helping, as Malfoy was elusive the entire weekend.

By Sunday evening, Harry decided he had to try one more time, before he didn’t have the energy or ability to participate at all. He checked the map before making his way to Malfoy’s room, trying not to waste his limited mobility on searching the castle for him, and knocked softly on Malfoy’s door.

“Dammit Blaise, I said I’m fine!” Malfoy yanked the door open, and the irritated look on his face quickly dropped into a sneer when he realized Harry was the one at his door. “What do you want Potter?”

Harry sighed, “Let me in and I’ll tell you.”

Malfoy’s mouth twitched as he realized they were re-enacting the previous weekend, and he stepped back as if he was going to let Harry in, then smiled cruelly, “I don’t think so Potter.” He turned to slam the door in Harry’s face, and Harry reached out to take hold of his wrist.

They both gasped as a jolt of searing pain raced up their arms, but Harry held on, even as Malfoy tried to pull himself free. Harry stepped over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him so as not to lose his grip, and the sensation quickly morphed into a pulsing warmth that made Harry feel like he’d taken three pepper-up potions at once. He gasped as he felt renewed strength in his limbs and glanced from where he circled Malfoy’s wrist up to his startled face.

“Well?” Malfoy said with an air of boredom, “You’re in. What do you want?”

Harry raised a brow, “I want to ask you to reconsider.” Malfoy clenched his jaw and turned his face away, his arm still gripped tightly in Harry’s hand, and Harry felt that he might actually be able to convince him. “You said we both have to enjoy it, right?” Malfoy turned back to him sharply with narrowed eyes, “So what if we do whatever we need to do to get close first? We’d still be fulfilling the rules of the bond, right?”

Malfoy looked him up and down, then closed his eyes with a sigh. Harry knew what he must be feeling, because he felt the same. He felt like his old self, before the curse began taking affect, and he figured as soon as he let go, or they parted without completing the bond, they would both start to deteriorate again. He stayed silent, hoping Malfoy would come to the right decision on his own without Harry having to grovel, which he was fully prepared to do. He studied Malfoy’s face as they stood together, noticing for the first time how pale his eyelashes were against his cheeks, and thought if it weren't for his personality, he might even consider Malfoy attractive.

Malfoy took a deep breath and opened his eyes, startled slightly as he was met with Harry’s intense stare. “Fine. Just don’t touch me more than you have to.”

Harry nodded, quickly releasing him. He took a step back and looked around the room nervously, “So, um, what now?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Now we have to ‘get close’ as you put it.”

Harry swallowed apprehensively, “Right, yeah. Erm, I guess I’ll just um-” He pointed toward the desk chair, “Like what happened in my room, maybe?”

Malfoy nodded, breathing harshly from his nose before turning and heading to his bed. Harry sat at the desk with his back the room, his heart beating quickly as he wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his trousers. He stared at the tabletop for a moment, then slowly lifted his hands to pull off his top. There was a gasp behind him, and he turned his head as he dropped the top onto the desk. Malfoy was half-way through unbuttoning his own top, and was staring at Harry’s back. Embarrassment flashed through him as he remembered how many scars he had, but it quickly faded as he noticed the edge of a ropy scar on Malfoy’s chest.

“Is that-” Harry stood from the desk and walked over as if in a trance, and Malfoy’s eyes widened as more of his scars were revealed. “Did I do that to you?”

Malfoy looked down at his own chest, realizing his top had shifted to show the edge of his Sectumsempra scar, and quickly pulled it closed. “Don’t worry about it Potter.” He scowled and looked away, holding his top closed tightly.

Harry crouched down to be more level with Malfoy, “I didn’t mean to.” Malfoy scoffed, “I swear, I had no idea what that spell did.”

Malfoy huffed, “Only you would be idiot enough to use a spell you’d never heard of or tried before.”

Harry chuckled, and Malfoy looked at him in surprise. “That’s fair.”

Malfoy searched his face in confusion before his gaze shifted lower, and Harry shivered slightly as he felt like Malfoy was caressing him with his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” Malfoy said authoritatively, bringing his focus back to Harry’s face.

Harry nodded, his mouth dry, and he stood and crossed back to the desk. He could feel Malfoy’s eyes on him as he sat down, and he flushed as he felt his dick respond. He took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he exhaled, and slowly reached up to run a hand down his chest. Malfoy gasped softly behind him, and a moment later Harry felt a phantom touch trailing down along side his own. He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation, flicking one nipple as Malfoy flicked his other, and he hardened steadily. He ran both hands down his chest and abs as Malfoy slid his hands up his thighs, and Harry bit his lip as the touch ghosted over his groin. He slid his thumbs into his waistband, hesitating as he considered whether he wanted to pull his bottoms off completely, or simply pull them down, and movement from behind him made him glance over his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy slide his trousers and pants down and off in one fluid motion, dropping them onto the floor, and he knew Malfoy would hold it against him if he presented as a blushing virgin, so he decided to follow suit. He stood from the chair, taking a deep breath before he slid both his trousers and pants down his thighs. Malfoy sucked in a breath behind him, and Harry flushed self-consciously as his arse was basically put on display.

He groaned as the phantom touch returned, wrapping around his cock and stroking slowly, and he leaned forward briefly with a hand on the desk before returning to the chair. He ran his hands over his nipples, eliciting another gasp from Malfoy, then made his way down to his now dripping prick. The phantom touch felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough to get him close, so he ran his palm over the head of his dick and along the underside of his ridge. Malfoy groaned behind him and sped up his strokes, and Harry gripped the tabletop with one hand as he curled his fingers around his shaft and attempted to alternate his rhythm. They both moaned and picked up speed, Harry’s skin prickling as he felt himself inching closer to release, when suddenly the phantom touch disappeared.

“Stop.” Malfoy panted, and Harry stilled his hand with a groan. “Stop, or we’ll have to do this all over again.” Harry placed both of his hands on the desk and glanced behind him, smirking when he saw that Malfoy was gripping his sheets tightly. “Come over here and get on your hands and knees so we can finish this.”

Harry scoffed and turned his body sideways in the chair, all thoughts of modesty forgotten. “What makes you think that’s how this is going to go?”

Malfoy lifted a brow and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, “You’re the virgin here, not me. The bond is clearly meant to achieve two things: loss of virginity and production of an heir. Obviously, we can’t complete the second one, but the first one is all you.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “So you’re saying that you’ve been on both sides?”

Malfoy tilted his head in confusion, and Harry made a gesture with his hands. “Oh!” Malfoy understood, “No! You think I’d let just anyone stick their dick in me Potter? Absolutely not.”

A slow smile spread on Harry’s face, “So you’re basically half a virgin too.”

Malfoy scoffed, “No, I’ve had plenty of sex, thank you very much.”

“Right,” Harry nodded, “But you’ve only ever been the fuck-er, not the fuck-ee.” He stood and walked slowly toward the bed, “I think it’s only fair if we both lose a piece of our virginity, don’t you?”

Malfoy lifted a brow, “Fair? Do you think anything about this is fair?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “No, but what I mean is, do you really want to take the chance that the curse will be satisfied with only me losing my virginity, and end up having to do this all over again anyway? Wouldn’t you rather go all in and make sure once is all it takes?”

Malfoy trailed his eyes down Harry’s body, swallowing nervously as he reached Harry’s slowly deflating dick, then flicked defiant eyes back to his face as he stood. “Fine, but I’m not getting on my knees for you.” Harry furrowed his brows, and Malfoy huffed. “Just lay down you complete novice.” Harry frowned but laid down on the bed as Malfoy indicated. “No way in hell am I letting you take the lead.” Malfoy grumbled under his breath. He lifted his face to the ceiling, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before quickly straddling Harry's upper thighs.

Harry yelped in surprise, “What are you doing?”

Malfoy pinned him with a hard stare as he hovered above him, “What you came here for, idiot. Just stay still, and don’t touch me.” Harry nodded with wide eyes, his erection continuing to flag with nerves. He began to wonder if he would need to wank more, and glanced down at Malfoy’s groin to see he was also beginning to soften, when Malfoy’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Don’t look at me either Potter.” Harry snapped his gaze up to Malfoy’s flushed face, “This is difficult enough without feeling your eyes on me.”

Harry clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, hands in fists at his sides. He didn’t know what Malfoy was going to do, but he thought it best to listen to him and hopefully get through this quickly. His skin began to prickle the longer nothing happened, and he was close to opening his eyes regardless of what Malfoy said, when he felt something slick gently glide down the cleft of his arse and he gasped. He squeezed his eyes tightly and took a sharp breath when the phantom touch circled his arsehole, and he bit his lip and whimpered softly as it began to press inside. Rationally, Harry knew he was feeling what Malfoy was doing to himself, but it felt so real, especially when Malfoy added a second finger and began stretching himself. Harry moaned and Malfoy groaned above him, his knees sliding slightly further apart until his thighs were resting on Harry’s. Harry gasped as a spark of pure pleasure shot up his spine and opened his eyes. Malfoy was arched above him, one hand on his thigh while the other reached behind to open himself up, and the open collar of his top had slid to the side to reveal a pale shoulder and a dusty pink nipple cut through with a thick scar. The flush to his cheeks had traveled down his neck and over his chest, his head was thrown back and eyes closed, and he was panting from slightly parted lips. The sight made Harry begin to harden again immediately, and he bit his lip as he tried to resist touching Malfoy or himself. He watched as Malfoy began to ride his fingers, and the brush of the phantom touch against his prostate was enough to force his hand. Harry wrapped his fist around his prick, and Malfoy moaned and dropped his head forward, his eyes focused on Harry's groin. He allowed Harry to stroke himself a few times before reaching out and stilling his hand.

“If you keep doing that, we’ll have to start over.” He gasped, clutching Harry’s wrist tightly as he stilled his own fingers.

Harry gulped and nodded, relaxing his fist and releasing himself as soon as Malfoy let go. His breath was coming in quick bursts as he watched Malfoy move up his body, and Malfoy glanced at his face before reaching back to grasp his dick and line himself up. Harry gasped at the touch, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the head of his prick nudge Malfoy’s entrance.

“I thought you said you’d never done this before?” Harry asked tightly as his dick slowly breached the ring of muscle.

“Just because I haven’t let someone else do it doesn’t mean I haven’t done it to myself once to twice.” Malfoy responded through gritted teeth.

Harry gasped in shallow breaths as Malfoy lowered himself down until he was fully seated, and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips when Malfoy slowly lifted himself up before sliding back down. “Jesus, fuck.” He breathed, and Malfoy chuckled above him.

Harry trailed his eyes up Malfoy's body, noticing how his hard cock jutted out from beneath his top before following the portion of sectumsempra scar that was visible across his chest and toward his neck. His hands twitched with the desire to find out what it felt like under his fingers, and he forced himself to look at Malfoy's face instead. Malfoy licked his lips and began flexing his hips, and Harry couldn’t help but to reach out and grasp them, looking down to slide his hands beneath his top with a groan.

“I told you not to touch me, Potter.” Malfoy gasped.

Harry flicked his eyes back up to see Malfoy looking down at his hands and biting his lip, and he growled, “What do you want me to do, just lay here?”

“That would be preferable.” Malfoy lifted his eyes to glare at Harry, and Harry rocked his hips up in response. They both gasped, and Malfoy bent slightly forward to place his hands on Harry’s chest as Harry continued to thrust, closing his eyes and meeting each one with a soft moan.

Harry gripped Malfoy’s hips tighter, bending his knees to plant his feet and get a better angle, and Malfoy moaned deeply as Harry hit his prostate.

“Merlin.” He gasped, leaning forward as Harry continued to drive into him.

Waves of pulsing heat began to radiate through Harry, and he vaguely wondered if Malfoy felt it as well. He could feel his orgasm quickly rising, and he glanced between them to see Malfoy’s prick steadily leaking as he thrusted. Hoping he wasn’t about to make a huge mistake, he slid one hand off of Malfoy's hip to grasp his dick, unsure if they needed to get off at the same time or not. Malfoy gasped as Harry wrapped his fingers around him, stroking his shaft in time with his thrusts as he chased his own orgasm.

“Fucking fuck.” Malfoy moaned, and Harry lifted his gaze from his hand to meet Malfoy’s wide-eyed stare.

Harry’s lips parted slightly as he quickly cataloged Malfoy’s glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, his mouth open in a soft moan, and his hips stuttered as he approached the edge. Malfoy continued to ride him, and he lunged forward to pull Harry up by the neck and press their lips together as he tightened around him. Harry gasped as Malfoy came on his chest and in his hand, following shortly after as he plunged into Malfoy’s tight entrance twice more, and Malfoy swiped his tongue into Harry’s mouth before pulling back abruptly.

“What the fuck Potter?” He asked breathlessly, harshly rubbing his fist over his mouth as he lifted himself up and off the bed. He moved gingerly, his face pinched as he put some distance between them.

Harry let his head fall back on the bed, staring up at the canopy as he caught his breath and Malfoy moved around the room. After a few beats of silence, he realized Malfoy had spoken.

“What?” He asked, lifting his head to look in Malfoy’s direction.

Malfoy was already getting dressed, and he turned to look over his shoulder with a scowl, “What do you mean, what? I told you not to touch me. Fuck, can’t you even follow simple instructions?”

Harry frowned at him, “You were touching me too you know. And you kissed me.”

Malfoy scoffed, “As if I would denigrate myself like that.”

Harry furrowed his brows and rose up onto his elbows, making a face as the cooling come on his chest began to run down his side. “What?” Malfoy shot him another glare and gathered up Harry’s clothing, tossing them at his face. “I didn’t grab my own neck and lift myself up to kiss you Malfoy.”

“Whatever Potter, just get dressed and get out.”

Harry huffed and searched for his wand, spelling himself clean before quickly pulling on his clothing. He glanced up to find Malfoy watching him with crossed arms. “Do you think the bond is broken?”

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, “Only one way to find out.” He quickly crossed the room and flung open his door, lifting a brow at Harry when he made no move to leave.

“Look, Malfoy-”

“Don’t.” Malfoy said, raising a hand, “If it worked, great, no need to discuss. If it didn’t work,” Malfoy shrugged, “I guess we try it the other way.”

Harry sucked in a breath startled, confused by Malfoy’s sudden nonchalance, but he much preferred that to the prickly exterior he usually received. “Right.” He nodded. He stepped over the threshold and turned to say something else, but Malfoy slammed the door in his face. Harry huffed a laugh and shook his head, then made his way to his own room.

Malfoy steadfastly refused to look at, speak to, or be near Harry for the next week, and while Harry somewhat understood, at times he felt like he was missing a piece of himself. He found himself staring after Malfoy, and even caught himself beginning to turn and head in his direction a few times. He told himself that it was because he’d had six years of constant negative interaction with Malfoy, and now that he had some peace and quiet he didn’t know what to do with his time. He could also admit that part of it could be that Malfoy was the one that took his virginity, and he’d sort of taken Malfoy’s, so they’d always have some sort of bond, no matter how hard they each tried to deny it. He refused to admit that he'd thought about that kiss on a loop for days now, even to himself.

As the next weekend wound down and Harry hadn’t felt any of the effects of the curse since their encounter, he was convinced the spell had been broken. He sat in the common room with his head in his hand, wondering why he didn’t feel as relieved as he should, when a paper crane landed in his lap. He gasped, startled, then picked up the parchment and gently unfolded it, trying to hold back a grin as he knew who it was from before he even read the note.

Maybe we should try it the other way, just to be sure. What do you say, Potter?

Harry flushed and glanced up, looking around until he found Malfoy on the second-floor landing. He lifted a brow and smirked as he turned toward his room, glancing over his shoulder as he opened his door, and Harry scrambled to stand, taking the stairs two at a time without a second thought. Malfoy chuckled as Harry reached the door and stopped him from closing it, pushing the door open and stepping inside. Harry grabbed Malfoy by the back of the neck, swinging him around and pressing him against the door until he heard it catch.

“This is what it feels like when I kiss you Malfoy.” Harry said, just before he crashed their lips together in a scorching kiss.