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Malfoy was early for his detention the following night. Harry had taken dinner in his office to get caught up on marking, and when Malfoy knocked on the door at quarter to eight, he was mid-chew. Malfoy took one look at the enormous pile of parchment on Harry's desk and winced, as if he thought Harry's intention was to make him mark them tonight.

"Take this," Harry said, handing him a scroll. "It's a list of the spells and topics covered on the Defense NEWT. I want you to go through it carefully and indicate which you are confident you know well and which you need to work on."

"What's the point of this?" Malfoy asked, unrolling the scroll and scanning it.

"You'll see soon enough."

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he turned and headed back down the stairs to the classroom. Harry had to fight the urge to fire a stumbling jinx at him.

Twenty minutes later, Harry peered down the stairs to see Malfoy staring at the scroll with an expression of near-defeat on his face. Harry allowed himself a small smile: this was something he always did on the first day of term with his NEWT students. It always focused their attention on the work they needed to do.

He sat in a desk adjacent to Malfoy. "Well?"

Malfoy's eyes were fixed to the paper. "I know a fourth of these spells, and that's if I'm being generous with myself."

"You have four months."

Malfoy looked incredulous. "Oh, that's a relief." He dropped his quill onto the parchment and shook his head. "I barely paid attention to anything during my sixth year, and my seventh was, well. What was I thinking by coming back here?"

"You tell me."

Malfoy sighed. "I get the message, all right? I'm hopeless. So let's get on with this detention. What do you want me to do? Something horribly menial and mindless, I hope."

That hadn't been the reaction he'd expected. Harry sat back in his chair. "Actually, we're just going to talk tonight. I want you to tell me how you're doing, how you're adjusting to being in this time, what you're struggling with, and then we'll figure out how best to help you."

Malfoy rolled his eyes dramatically. "This is detention, Potter, not therapy."

"The nature of the detention is at the discretion of the professor."

Malfoy scowled. "If your intent is to humiliate me, you're doing a good job of it. Snape would be proud. Would have been."

"That was not my intention." Harry picked up the scroll and glanced over it. Malfoy did indeed have a lot of holes in his defense knowledge, and the spells he knew were decidedly dark in nature. Harry had expected that much. "Let's start with this, then. Why did you refuse to cast a patronus in class yesterday?"

Malfoy snorted. "Isn't it obvious? I can't conjure a patronus. It was never covered in any of the lessons I had, though it's apparently something fourth years do now. I had no desire to humiliate myself more than I have already."

Harry hadn't considered the possibility that Malfoy couldn't conjure a patronus. "All right then. That's where we'll start. On your feet."

Malfoy looked shocked, but climbed to his feet.

Half an hour later, they'd made little progress. Malfoy had managed a bit of silvery smoke from his wand once, but then seemed to give up.

"You've got to find the right memory," Harry said, leaning back against a desk. "Once you do, it'll be fine. Trust me -- I've helped every Hogwarts student in the last five years learn this charm."

Malfoy nodded, but seemed unconvinced.

"This is difficult magic," Harry continued, his voice soft. "Yes, we start teaching it to fourth years now, but most of them aren't able to produce a corporeal patronus for months."

"How old were you when you learned it?" Malfoy looked right at him for the first time in nearly an hour.

Harry hesitated for a moment. "Thirteen. But it was under duress -- that was the year all the Dementors kept coming on the grounds and--"

Malfoy made a sound like a laugh, but it was full of defeat. "This is hopeless, Potter, and we both know it."

"Sit down," Harry said with a sigh. Malfoy sank into a seat and Harry sat facing him. "What do you want to do after school?"

Malfoy shrugged in response.

"You were preparing for six NEWTs in the midst of a war, which tells me you must have had something in mind."

"That was Snape's idea. He told me I had to be prepared in case the Dark Lord was defeated, that I would be wise not to pin my future plans on a raving lunatic."

Harry smiled. "He was a wise man."

Malfoy gave him a sharp look, as if he thought Harry was being sarcastic. "He was right, obviously, but I don't think I ever believed it. Merlin knows I wanted to believe you would--" He broke off and chewed his lower lip for a moment. "The point is that I have no idea what I want to do. Coming here was a way to stall thinking about it, actually."

"So stop stalling. It's a different world, Malfoy, and you can do anything. Be anything."

"You sound like Dumbledore."

"Thank you."

"It wasn't a compliment."

Harry laughed. "Then keep thinking about it and we'll talk about it next week. In the meantime, I want you to spend some time in the library and start working on the first dozen spells on this list." He rolled the scroll and tossed it back to Malfoy.

Malfoy's expression was incredulous. "You're giving me extra homework?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "And if you hope to have a chance at passing that exam, you'll start tonight." He stood and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Malfoy nodded and gathered his belongings. He headed towards the door, and then paused and turned back. "Professor?"

Harry smiled tightly. He rather wished he hadn't asked Malfoy to call him that now. It sounded bizarre coming from his mouth. "Yes?"

"My other teachers have been content to let me sit in the back of the room and be ignored. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you would be the one to push me to do something."

Harry grinned. "Are you thanking me?"

"I suppose," Malfoy scowled. "But I will deny it to the death if you ever tell anyone."

.:::::.

To Harry's relief, Malfoy's behavior in class became almost tolerable. Harry hadn't exactly expected him to begin participating with Hermione-like enthusiasm, but he had at least stopped being rude. He no longer made snide comments just loud enough for Harry to hear, had stopped rolling his eyes at Harry's attempts at humor, and though it clearly pained him, he even occasionally answered questions and contributed to the class discussion. It was far from the model student behavior Harry had asked for, but it was a start.

Harry spotted him in the library on Saturday afternoon, bent over a large pile of spell books and writing furiously with a large green quill. He had the urge to walk past and pat Malfoy on the shoulder or somehow give him a bit of encouragement, but he resisted. He didn't want to push any harder than he already had.

The following Wednesday evening, Malfoy hefted a large bag on his shoulder as he came into the classroom. He opened it, pulled out an enormous stack of parchments, and handed them to Harry.

"I hope to hell you were planning to read over this and give me feedback," he said. "Otherwise, I'm going to have to hex you."

"Wow," was all Harry could manage as he tried wrapping his fingers around the surprisingly heavy stack. "There goes my Friday night."

Malfoy leaned back against the nearest desk and smiled in a way that was almost smug. "And I can do all of those spells as well. Want to see?"

"Absolutely." Harry gestured to an open space at the front of the classroom.

Malfoy flourished his wand. "I'll start with aparecium."

Half an hour later, Harry was truly impressed. Malfoy had mastered all the spells and charms Harry had assigned him and had even done a few more. It was far more than Harry had expected and it was all he could do to keep his excitement in check.

"You know," he said when Malfoy had finally turned to him with a self-satisfied grin -- the happiest Harry had seen him look in, well, ever -- "if you keep working at this rate you're going to get an O on your NEWT for certain. Have you made any progress on the patronus?"

Malfoy's expression fell. "Ah. None, actually."

"No time like the present, then. Have you thought of a memory?"

Malfoy studied his wand. "I have lots of happy memories from my childhood, but none of them are working."

"Let’s see then. What's your first memory?"

"Father yelling at me to stop crying." He raised an eyebrow almost defiantly.

"Okay… first kiss?"

"Definitely not."

"Christmas morning?"

"I always knew exactly what I was getting, so there was no surprise. It was a bit boring, actually."

"Kicking puppies?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "This is helping me ever so much."

"If I could come up with a good one at the age of 13, with my horrific childhood, surely you can think of some moment when you were blissfully happy."

"Well, there was a lovely month in Greece when I was 14." A smile ghosted over Malfoy's face.

"Try it."

Malfoy stood and his forehead furrowed in concentration.

"You have to let it fill your mind and then put yourself back there. Let everything else fall away."

Malfoy opened his eyes. "What if it's-- What exactly do you mean by 'happy'?"

"Just shut up and cast the charm, Malfoy."

Malfoy took a deep breath and held his wand out before him, and closed his eyes. "Expecto patronum."

A faint silvery smoke spilled from the tip of his wand, but then dissipated almost instantly. Malfoy swore under his breath.

"I think you might be letting the memory go too quickly. You have to hang onto it, and believe that you can cast it. It's hard to explain why, but this is one of those spells where confidence is a huge factor."

Malfoy groaned in frustration. "I can't do this right now. Can we work on something else, please?"

"Of course," Harry said gently. "You'll know the right memory when you find it. You can do this, I promise."

They tackled the next set of spells on the list. Malfoy had a surprisingly hard time countering disarming spells, and it took an hour to get to the point that Malfoy could block Harry's expelliarmus at all.

"I don't understand," he said afterwards when they were sitting in Harry's office reviewing the list of spells. "I've always been good at shielding against hexes. Why would that one be any different?"

"Disarming is part of a class of spells that don't require any negative intent, so they're more complex to counter. Actually, that's a fantastic topic for you to look into before next week. It'll really help you with a few other things that are coming up."

Malfoy nodded and made a note on his parchment. "What's next?"

Harry glanced at the clock on the wall. It was past ten, but Malfoy didn't seem anxious to leave. He searched around for a topic of conversation, something that would help him better understand how Malfoy was coping. "You said last time that you didn't feel like your other teachers were pushing you hard enough."

Malfoy paused, as if caught off guard by the change of subject. "They're not, but I've been a bit more assertive lately. In a good way."

Harry smiled. "Of course."

"I suppose I have you to thank for that as well." He didn't sound terribly enthusiastic about it.

Harry pursed his lips. "How are you getting on with the other students?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I'm not. They're incredibly cliquish, you know, especially the Slytherins. And they spend so much time whinging about how hard school is that it makes me crazy. They have no idea how easy they have it. None of them have any clue what it was like here last-- well, during the war."

"I know what you mean. It took me a while to get used to being here again. For the first six months, every time I walked into the Great Hall, I kept seeing the dead laid out on the floor."

Malfoy's brow furrowed and Harry remembered he'd missed that part as well. They were silent for a moment.

"The students I've talked to think highly of you. They say you're a great teacher." It seemed to pain him a bit to say it.

"Do they? That's nice to hear."

"Want to know what else they say about you?" Malfoy looked up again.

Not really, Harry thought, but he shrugged.

"That you're queer." His expression was shockingly malicious, as if he thought he'd just dealt a horrific blow to Harry's ego.

Harry smirked. "They're right, of course." Malfoy's mouth fell open and Harry almost laughed at the look of astonishment on his face. "It's not a secret. I've been out for years. Everyone knows."

"And they let you teach?" Malfoy asked, his tone incredulous.

Harry smiled. "The world has changed a great deal in ten years. When Voldemort died, most of his prejudices died with him, including that one. There were loads of laws passed to protect the rights of Muggleborns, magical creatures, gay and lesbian wizards, and so on. They even legalized same-sex marriage before the Muggles did, which was astonishing, to say the least."

"You can get married? To another man?" Malfoy's face had gone from pale to flushed.

"Yes, of course. I can't say that everyone is completely accepting -- when people are raised with hatred, it doesn't just go away overnight. But the Ministry took a strong stand and, at least in public the Wizarding World is very tolerant. When I came out I became the poster boy for gay wizards, as you might expect and -- I'm sorry, I'm completely boring you now, aren't I?"

Malfoy had a distant look on his face, as if he were thinking about something else entirely. He blinked and looked at Harry, and blushed and looked away again.

"Bit of a shock, is it? Sorry about that."

"No, I'm just… surprised, that's all." Malfoy cleared his throat and appeared to focus on the list of spells again, but it was clear his mind was not on them.

Harry sighed. "Well, it's getting late. Why don't we call it a night?"

Malfoy nodded, packed up his things, and almost bolted away.

"That went well," Harry muttered as he watched Malfoy's sleek green jumper disappear through the door of the classroom.

He leaned back in his chair and started reading through Malfoy's parchments. It was going to be a long night.

.:::::.

During Thursday's lesson, Malfoy completely avoided making eye contact with Harry, and blushed furiously the one time Harry helped him adjust his grip on his wand. It had been so long since anyone had reacted negatively to his sexual orientation that Harry found himself at a loss. It was probably a lot to ask of Malfoy just to accept it and move on, after the way he'd been raised. At least, Harry kept telling himself that.

When the following Wednesday's detention rolled around, Harry wasn't sure what to expect. He hadn't seen Malfoy around the school grounds over the weekend, and he was still a bit subdued in Tuesday's lesson.

"Have a good weekend?" Harry asked as Malfoy pulled another stack of parchment from his rucksack.

"I visited Mother, actually. She sends her regards."

"How is she?"

Malfoy sighed. "Barmy, really. She doesn't know where she is or that I lost ten years, and I suspect she thinks I'm twelve years old. She keeps reminding me to feed the cat and we never had one. But otherwise she's in good health."

Harry smiled. "She always asked me to feed the cat as well."

"I've been meaning to thank you for visiting her during the last decade." Malfoy's jaw clenched for a moment before he continued. "She must have been quite lonely there. It's clear that the few visitors she's had have helped a great deal."

"Your mother saved my life. It was the least I could do."

Malfoy cleared his throat and handed over the stack of parchments. "I still managed to get a lot done."

"I've got last week's to give back to you. You were rather thorough. It took hours to read it all."

Malfoy turned away to put the marked stack back in his bag, but not before Harry saw a small smile play at his lips.

"Have you given any more thought to what you want to do after school?"

Malfoy settled in a desk. "I have, actually. I spent the weekend in London and met with our family's solicitor. There's the small matter of redacting my death certificate, but once it's done I'll be in charge of the Malfoy estate. What's left of it, anyway. I was relieved to hear that the Manor was sold years ago; that was something I did not want to deal with." He seemed to shiver at the thought. "I'm going to have to do something to make a living, that's for certain. Mother needs caring for, and it's not clear if she'll be best off at St. Mungo's or if she could live with me."

Harry was surprised that Malfoy was speaking so openly about his personal affairs -- but then, he had no one else to talk to. "If you pass all of those NEWTs, you'll have a lot of options."

"I never expected I'd get to choose anything about my life. And now that I have to make choices, I've no idea where to begin."

"You have time," Harry said. "I can help you, if you like."

Malfoy looked up at him and something in his eyes caught Harry's attention. He couldn't put a finger on it, but it was intriguing. Malfoy nodded and looked away.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

Malfoy showed Harry the next set of spells he'd worked on. Harry corrected a stance here, a wand angle there, and a few instances of pronunciation and concentration. Malfoy was unusually cooperative, even friendly; he'd apparently managed to get past his issue with Harry being gay. Harry found himself relaxed enough to tease him a bit, the way he would have done with Ron or Neville. It was hard to maintain the teacher-student barrier with Malfoy, but somehow Harry didn't mind.

He actually preferred not to think of Malfoy as a student at all. Spending these detentions with him was like stepping back in time, but to an alternate universe in which there was no Voldemort and he and Malfoy were mates. They could have been, had circumstances been different. He felt an odd pang of regret.

"Could you show me again?"

"I… sorry?" Harry's mind had wandered.

"Am I boring you?"

Harry snorted. "Spending time with you is the opposite of boring, Malfoy."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't I be the one kissing your arse?"

"Shut up, you. What did you want me to show you?"

"The patronus."

Harry pulled his wand from where it was tucked into the waistband of his jeans and effortlessly cast a patronus charm. His silver stag galloped around the room, snorting and bucking.

"Does the form choose you, or is it the other way around?" Malfoy's eyes were glued to the stag.

"No one knows for certain," Harry replied, leaning against a desk next to him. "There are several theories, but the most popular is that it's an element of the subconscious of the caster. The form has great emotional significance for some and none at all for others. It can change for some wizards after a traumatic event, but even that doesn't happen consistently." He turned his head and saw that Malfoy was staring at him. "What?"

Malfoy's gaze softened and he didn't look away. "I think I'm afraid to see it. I'm afraid of the form it will take."

"Why?"

Malfoy sat next to him on the desk, so close that their shoulders touched. "It's terribly personal, don't you think?"

Harry shrugged. "I suppose it can be."

"I just hope it's not a ferret."

Harry laughed out loud before he could stop himself. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Malfoy grinned and shook his head. "There are some things I'll never live down, even though there aren't many people left who remember them."

They smiled at each other and then Harry felt a flutter in his stomach -- one he recognized all too well. He stood and ran a hand through his hair. The silver stag dashed past them again. Harry flicked his wand and it vanished in a whirl of smoke.

"That's all for tonight, actually. I'm behind in marking and I'd like to get to bed before midnight tonight."

"All right," Malfoy said, though there was a definite note of disappointment in his voice. "I could help you with that, you know. Surely I'd be qualified to look over the first years' work."

Harry hesitated. He really could use the help. The extra time he'd spent working with Malfoy had put him behind. But not tonight -- he needed to clear his head before he spent any more time with Malfoy. "Well, if you're volunteering. Are you free after tomorrow's lesson?"

"I am, in fact. I'll stay after." Malfoy smiled once more before closing his rucksack and heading toward the door.

Harry realized he was staring at Malfoy's arse as he walked away, and he groaned. Well, fuck. This was a bit inconvenient.

.:::::.

The students filed out of the classroom, chattering about the big Quidditch match that weekend. Malfoy gathered his things and made his way to the front, and Harry took a deep breath. He'd been unable to think about anything but Malfoy in the last day and had even had a few very interesting dreams about him last night. When Malfoy had walked into the classroom and caught his eye with a small smile, Harry had felt it in his groin.

He was so, so screwed.

"I appreciate this," he said as Malfoy dropped his bag on a desk in the front row. He retrieved a stack of parchment and a pot of red ink and handed the lot to Malfoy. "Be gentle with them. They're first years and they have a lot to learn yet."

Malfoy chuckled. "Relax, Potter. I'm not as mean as you seem to think I am."

Harry smiled and left him to it, retreating to his office to work on the assignments just turned in by the NEWT class. An hour later there was a knock on the door frame and Malfoy's head popped through.

"All done. Anything else?"

"That's enough torture for one day, don't you think?"

Malfoy shrugged and leaned against the doorway. "I don't mind. It's not as if I have any burning social commitments to dash off to."

"I never pegged you for a teacher's pet. A bit pathetic, don't you think?"

To Harry's surprise, Malfoy grinned. "I've been called far worse. Mind if I ask you a personal question?" Harry shrugged and Malfoy sat in the chair across from Harry's desk. "Why did you come back to Hogwarts? From what I've read, you were on your way to a stellar career as an Auror."

"Ah, yes. I managed to disappoint the entire Wizarding World twice in the space of a month. First by coming out as gay -- after a little scandal in the papers involving a photo of me snogging a wizard in a bar in Diagon Alley." He paused to grin as Malfoy's cheeks flushed pink. "And second by leaving the Auror Corps and accepting a position on the faculty at Hogwarts."

"You didn't like being an Auror?"

"Yes and no. It was exciting work and I felt like I was making a difference. It took us years to round up all of Voldemort's supporters, a surprising number of whom were determined to carry on the task he'd set them. But it was also exhausting and god, I was so done with the whole fighting evil thing. I wanted to do something else, anything else."

"Why teaching?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd had some experience with it and had been told I was good at it. And then I had lunch with McGonagall one day and told her I was interested, and she practically made me sign a contract on the spot. That was five years ago, almost six years now."

"You are a good teacher, you know." Malfoy's gaze was intense and Harry felt his cheeks flush. Thankfully, it was dusk and the light in the small office was dim.

"Thanks." He stared back, uncertain what else to say. Want to know what else I'm good at? was probably not appropriate.

"How did you know you were gay?"

Oh, fuck. Harry took a deep breath. "That's a very personal question. Why do you want to know?"

Malfoy bit his lip and shrugged, then looked down at the floor. Interesting.

"I had a girlfriend I thought I was crazy about, but the relationship was… not what I expected. I hadn't had time to question it; my entire life until the age of 18 had been organized around defeating Voldemort. I'd always been drawn to men, and so I decided I should find out for certain if that was what I really wanted. So one night I went to a Muggle club in London and found a bloke and…" He looked away. "This is rapidly becoming an inappropriate conversation to have with a student."

"I'm not offended, Potter. And besides, I'm no ordinary student."

"Regardless, I'm still a professor at this school and talking to a student about details of my sex life is not something I should be doing."

"You didn't finish your story."

"And I don't intend to. The outcome was obvious, don't you think?"

Malfoy sighed and stood. "I suppose I'll just have to use my imagination, then." He gave Harry a smile that bordered on wicked and left the office.

Harry waited until he heard Malfoy's footsteps recede and the classroom door close, and then lightly banged his forehead into the wooden surface of the desk.

.:::::.

"Malfoy still giving you trouble?" Neville handed Harry an open bottle of ale.

"Yes. But not in the way you might expect." He took a long drink from the bottle and sank into the worn burgundy armchair in Neville's room.

"All right, I'll bite. How exactly is he giving you trouble?"

Harry took a deep breath. If he could tell anyone, it would be Neville. "He's flirting with me."

Neville coughed, apparently having just inhaled some ale. "Seriously?"

"He heard I was gay from the other students, and ever since he's been going out of his way to do extra work around the classroom for me."

Neville snorted. "He should feel free to flirt with me any time. I've got greenhouses that need weeding and my students have been suspiciously well behaved lately."

"It's not just that. He looks at me. I mean, looks, like he's thinking about disrobing me. And he asks me provocative questions, many of which I am idiotic enough to answer."

"Is he gay?"

"I'm not sure. He might be questioning, or it might just be a new way to torment me." Harry sighed.

"Hang on," Neville said, his eyes narrowing. "You have a crush on him, don't you?"

"No, of course not." Harry winced. "Maybe a small one. Very tiny."

"Harry--"

"I know. It's completely irresponsible and inappropriate and I should be ashamed of myself."

"Not what I was going to say." Neville paused to take a swig from the bottle. "He's of age, so it's not illegal for there to be a relationship, sexual or otherwise. But it's generally considered inappropriate because of the nature of the teacher-student power differential. It's not explicitly forbidden, but faculty have been fired in the past for inappropriate relationships with students. And honestly, must you fellate the bottle whilst we talk about Malfoy?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I was only taking a drink!" Harry set the bottle aside. "Are you saying you think I should let this go on?"

Neville sighed. "If I were you, I'd put an end to it. I know it's different because it's Malfoy, and there was always something between you and Malfoy -- but it's not a good idea."

Harry downed the rest of the ale and sank further into the chair. "I know."

.:::::.

Malfoy burst into the classroom for detention the following Wednesday night, a look of excitement on his face. "I think I've found the right memory!"

"Fantastic! Let's see, then."

Malfoy fished his wand from his robe and took a deep breath. "Expecto patronum!" As had happened the last few times, all he managed to produce was a bit of silvery smoke. He turned to Harry, crestfallen. "I was so certain that one would work. Fucking hell."

"Let's try it again," Harry said, crossing to stand behind him. "This time give it a moment. Let the memory fill your mind. Close your eyes."

He wrapped his hand around Malfoy's fingers on the wand and raised it a bit higher, and put his other hand on Malfoy's shoulder. "Relax," he said, his mouth at Malfoy's ear. "And know that you can do this. Let go your doubt and your fear of what you might see. Take a deep breath."

Malfoy inhaled and then exhaled slowly. Harry squeezed his shoulder.

"Expecto patronum."

Silvery light poured from Malfoy's wand in a rush and whirled in the air above them before settling onto a nearby desk and taking shape.

"Hedwig," Harry whispered.

The large silver owl blinked calmly at them and stretched its wings. It wasn't a snowy owl, now that he looked more closely. Tufts of feathers stuck out from either side of its head, and dark rings around its eyes gave it a stern look. It practically glared at them from its perch.

"I did it," Malfoy said, his voice wavering a bit. He kept his wand pointed at the patronus and waved it toward the ceiling. It took flight, beating its great wings silently as it rose up past the dragon skeleton hanging above them, soaring in a circle around the perimeter of the room. Malfoy laughed and turned to Harry, grinning.

"You did it," Harry said, grinning back.

Malfoy stared at him, his eyes blazing. Harry felt the pull between them as if it was an actual force and then Malfoy closed the distance between them. He clenched Harry's jumper in one fist and tugged him forward. Harry held his breath, knowing he should put a stop to this, but finding himself unable to do anything but stare back. After a long moment, Malfoy leaned in and crushed his mouth against Harry's, and then it was all Harry could do to keep on his feet.

Malfoy kissed like he was seventeen -- rough and hard, with far too much tongue, but it was still more erotic than Harry would have imagined. His hands found Malfoy's shoulders and then one hand was in his hair, and he willed his brain not to process any of it, just to feel for a while. It had been months since he'd been kissed by anyone, ages since anyone had looked at him the way Malfoy did, with such want.

Malfoy backed him into a desk and Harry broke the kiss, panting. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

"I think I'm gay," Malfoy said.

"I got that impression, yeah."

Malfoy's grin was predatory. He leaned in to kiss Harry again.

"We can't do this." Harry pushed him back with one hand against his chest. "Merlin knows I want to, but fucking hell, I'm your professor."

"I don't care."

"You're not the one who could get sacked for this, Malfoy. I'm sorry, but I can't. At least not until you've finished your NEWT and I'm not your teacher anymore." Harry took a step to the side and straightened his jumper.

"No one would have to know." There was a hint of desperation in Malfoy's voice now. "Potter, come on! I've been struggling with this for ages, my whole life. And I'm suddenly ten years in the future in a time that's so fucked up and weird, but then I find out that it's okay to be gay here -- the one thing that was always threatening to ruin my life before." He stepped closer to Harry again, his grey eyes more open than Harry had ever seen them, and he reached out to touch Harry's face. "Do you know how long I've wanted you? And now that I know you want me back, you're telling me you can't?"

Harry sat on the desk behind him and took Malfoy's hands in his. "Come here." He tugged him forward and kissed him softly, and pulled away again when Malfoy tried to deepen the kiss. He cupped Malfoy's face in his hands. He looked so young, but there was something raw there too, as if he had a lot bottled up inside, just waiting to be unleashed. An image flickered through Harry's mind of Malfoy above him, pounding into him with that same raw look in his eyes, and he almost moaned. "God, you're so… The things I want to do to you -- you have no idea. But we have to wait. It's just a few months."

"It might as well be years." Malfoy's tone bordered on whinging and it made Harry smile.

"A little over three months, during which you will be revising like a mad man. I would only be a distraction."

"You think you won't be anyway?" Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"We have a lot of work to do tonight." Harry stood and straightened his clothes once more. "Let's get started, shall we?"

.:::::.

The next week was hell. Harry had thought he could handle it, but every time he saw Malfoy -- and he seemed to see him far more often than usual -- he couldn't help but think about the way Malfoy had kissed him and how hard it had been to push him away. It would have been so easy to drag him up to his office, lock the door, cast a silencing spell, and then suck his cock until Malfoy couldn't see straight.

So easy, and so, so wrong.

Harry was the adult here. He could wait. He could control himself.

God, he hadn't wanked this much in years.

To make matters worse, Malfoy wasn't exactly cooperating. He brushed against Harry in the corridors, stared at him constantly in class, and over the weekend had worn a tight-fitting shirt with sleeves just a bit too long for his arms. The sight of that thin fabric stretched across his chest made Harry break into a sweat. How had he known that particular combination drove Harry crazy?

Harry had to return a book to the library on Saturday and found himself lingering by the shelves next to the table where Malfoy was seated. He stole a glance to see that Malfoy was watching him and eating a lollipop, of all things. Malfoy grinned and made a show of licking the lollipop and Harry rolled his eyes. Honestly, who did things like that?

He was mortified when that image popped into his mind that night while he wanked.

How had he not realized before how good-looking Malfoy was, and that he was all tall and lean and wiry and exactly Harry's type? How had he missed the way Malfoy would shake his hair out of his eyes, or the width of his shoulders, or the way his face lit up when he smiled? Well, the latter was easy to answer: until the last couple of weeks he'd never seen Malfoy smile. Now he seemed to smile constantly.

When Malfoy arrived for his fifth and final detention the following Wednesday, Harry was prepared. He'd kept his faculty robes on instead of shucking them instantly after his last class, and he'd arranged for several other students to sit their detentions that evening as well.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the sight of a pair of third year girls cleaning out the tank of venomous fish on the far wall, but he hid his disappointment well otherwise.

"I've been thinking," he said as he rifled through his rucksack.

"I've noticed," Harry replied. "It's a nice change."

"That these sessions have been very helpful for me academically," Malfoy continued, pointedly ignoring the jab. "I'd like to continue meeting with you like this, in exchange for other services."

Harry felt his cheeks flush, and his eyes darted over to the third years.

"Mind out of the gutter," Malfoy said quietly, though he was clearly pleased at the response. "I meant that I could continue marking for you. I could take on the first through third years, in exchange for Wednesday nights and maybe some time on the weekend, if convenient."

Harry searched for a reason to decline the offer, but found none. He despised marking and if Malfoy was volunteering to do it, all the better. Of course, more time spent with Malfoy meant more torment, and he wasn't sure how long his willpower would last. On the other hand, it was his job to help his students. He couldn't turn away from one willing to work.

He nodded. "All right, it's a deal. Can you stay after class tomorrow again?"

Malfoy smiled. "I'm all yours."

They worked on a variety of spells for the next hour, and were in the midst of an intense discussion of the ethics of using hexes that activated pain receptors when the third year students, covered in slime and red welts, interrupted them.

"We're done, Professor," the taller girl said. One of her long braids appeared to have been dipped in purple slime. She looked miserable.

"Go straight to the infirmary and have Madame Pomfrey give you something for those welts. Then right back to your common rooms, both of you."

The girls nodded solemnly and left the classroom. Harry and Malfoy were alone.

"So is it ethical to set children a painful task as punishment?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Ironically, the reason they had detention in the first place was that they skipped the lesson where we discussed how to handle venomous fish properly. I warned them to read up on it before coming here tonight, but they apparently didn't."

"I take it back. That's a fantastic detention."

Harry smiled and stood. "And I'm exhausted. Let's call it a night, shall we?"

Malfoy stood and stepped close, as if anticipating a kiss.

Harry sighed. "Draco--"

"You can't tell me you don't want to."

"You're right. I can't."

Malfoy watched him for a moment more and then leaned in for a quick kiss. The moment Harry registered the feeling of lips on his, they were gone again. Malfoy started to back away and before Harry had time to process what he was doing, he grabbed Malfoy's Slytherin tie and pulled him back in.

This time, Harry was in charge of the kiss. He demonstrated exactly how much tongue he liked and Malfoy, ever a quick study, was quite responsive. By the time Harry finally broke the kiss, Malfoy was panting, and there was an unmistakable bulge in his trousers.

"You can't expect me to go back to the common room like this." He gestured down at his groin.

"You'll survive," Harry said, patting his cheek.

Malfoy sighed. "I take back everything I said about you being a good teacher."

Harry grinned. "I'm heartbroken. See you tomorrow after class?"

"Of course. I have to start earning my keep, don't I?"

"Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Professor."

He managed to make that word sound exceptionally dirty. Harry had a feeling he'd be hearing it in his dreams.

.:::::.