*Welcome to my second Harry Potter fic, and first slash. This is actually not as smutty as one might think. Never mind, it is. But this is definitely a LOVE STORY. It's got a plot, as far fetched as it may be.

The story takes place almost two years after the Battle at Hogwarts. Harry finds himself in a situation he never thought he would, and his solution is unique. I've likened Harry to child television or movie stars in that, they all seem to have a hard time growing into adult roles and often find themselves down and out. I don't recall many other stories starring Harry as a porn star, so I hope the story is fresh. Thanks in advance for reading.

I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise. I thank JK Rowling for making Harry and Draco ambiguously gay enough so I can run with this story.

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Harry stood in front of the brick terraced building and sighed heavily. He wasn't sure he'd have the nerve to actually go inside, but he was sure that if he did, there would be no turning back.

Thinking back on the past year, Harry couldn't believe he let things get to the point they had. It seemed as though his life as the Gryffindor hero had been somebody else's. And now he stood, broke, alone and desperate.

He looked at the business card Theo had given him to confirm the address. He knew it was correct, but he procrastinated going inside.

As he hesitated, a young man walked out, glanced at Harry and smiled.

"You going in?" he asked Harry as he held the door open.

The man had sandy blond hair that fell into his hazel eyes just a bit. His strong jaw and set of perfectly white teeth made him look like a model and Harry wondered if he had been at one time.

Harry began to question whether or not he belonged in there after all. He hardly thought he could pass for a model-his dark hair was naturally disheveled and he still wore glasses, thought not the same round ones of his youth. He ran his tongue subtly over his teeth. They weren't exactly crooked, but neither were they perfectly straight and white as the young man who still stood in front of him, waiting for a reply.

"Uh, yeah," Harry finally answered. Very smooth, Harry thought to himself.

"At least they're sending us some cute ones for a change." The man looked Harry up and down. "Maybe we'll work together."

Harry took hold of the door, "Yeah, uh, thanks." He watched the sandy haired man walk away, a little more confident after the compliment. He walked up to the second floor and found a middle aged woman sitting behind a large desk under a sign for Robert Winston Studios.

"May I help you?" she asked.

"I think so," he blushed, cursing himself for it. He wondered, if just talking to the receptionist made him blush, how the bloody hell was he supposed to shag in front of people.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes."

"Name?"

"Harry."

"Last name?" She began entering his information into the computer.

"Just, just Harry. Is that okay?"

She looked up and smiled. "Lots of our boys use only one name. Like Madonna or Cher. But I'll need the last name for tax purposes. Can't be avoided."

Being raised by the Dursleys, Harry would never been exposed to such music. He had no idea who the woman was talking about. Therefore, he had no response other than to tell her his last name.

He glanced around as if someone would recognize his name here. "Potter. But I'd rather no one else knew, ma'am."

"No problem. Like I said, half these boys probably don't even go by their real names anyway. And please, call me Carol."

"All right, Carol. I really don't know what to do here. This is my first, um, job interview." He shifted on his feet.

"Have a seat right over there. Robert will be with you in a bit. Don't worry, love. You've got the look. Robert will be mad about you. But you may want to take off your glasses. Let those pretty green eyes show."

Harry walked to the chairs across from Carol's desk and sat, tapping his foot nervously. He debated removing his glasses, then decide he'd rather be able to see. Chuckling to himself, it occurred to him that not being able to see well may be an advantage if he got the job.

Sitting with his fingers fidgeting and his head down, Harry felt like he'd been there forever. When he looked at his watch, he saw that only thirteen minutes had actually passed. He stole a glance around and noticed men milling about, some going from room to room, always closing doors behind them. Most of them were impossibly good looking and quite fit. He wondered if they were all of legal age as some of them appeared quite young, barely in the middle of puberty.

As he became more comfortable watching the activity, something caught his eye. He stood up to get a better look at the shockingly blond head of hair as it made its way to the reception desk. He didn't notice Harry at all.

"Carol, dear, can I get another copy of my schedule? I seem to have misplaced the other one." He leaned over the desk and winked shamelessly.

"Sure thing, Dragon," she smiled. With a few clicks of the mouse the printer was spitting out the document.

"M-Malfoy?" Harry said quietly.

Draco froze, then slowly turned around. Even before he did, he knew who would be standing there. He knew Harry's voice almost as well as his own.

"Don't call me that here, Potter," he said in a low voice.

"As long as you don't call me that." Harry replied.

"I shouldn't need to ask why you're here, but why the bloody hell are you here?" Malfoy looked utterly confused to see Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world, in a muggle gay pornography studio. He supposed Harry was just as surprised to see him. But then again, Draco thought it was highly suspected, if not common knowledge that he himself was gay back at Hogwarts. He hadn't the slightest idea about Harry. Last he heard, Harry was dating the Weasel girl.

Ignoring Malfoy's question, Harry asked one of his own. "You . . . do this? With muggles?"

He knew Malfoy to be so prejudice as to hate muggle born witches, he couldn't imagine how Malfoy managed to shag muggles for money.

"It's work. It pays great. My family lost everything after the war. We lost our home, most of our family money and all of our connections. Mother and Father survived on the charity of the few friends they managed to retain."

"I'd heard. I assumed you found work in the Ministry. Weren't you chosen for Auror training?" Harry asked.

"I declined when I realized it was just a way for them to keep me on a very tight leash. It was supposed to be compensation for my misdeeds-catching the remaining Death Eaters. But they wanted my soul as well," Draco smirked.

"And what about this?"

"They only want my body. Here, I can separate the two. But I don't understand why you're here. You must be in the wrong place. Don't you work for the Ministry?"

"I . . . I kind of lost my way after the war ended. The last thing I wanted to do after chasing Voldemort for years was to get a job chasing Death Eaters."

"Understandable," Draco nodded.

"I spent the last year depleting my funds on frivolities. Hermione tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen. I just wanted to have fun. I was tired and self-indulgent," Harry explained.

Draco was shocked at Harry's honesty. The two fell silent, having just had the longest conversation with one another they could ever remember. At least one in which they weren't fighting.

Neither boy realized how much they needed to talk to someone who truly understood them, someone they didn't have to lie to, even if it was someone who hated them.

"So, you decided to try your hand at smut? That's quite a leap. You couldn't find a job as a clerk in a shop in Diagon Alley?" Malfoy asked.

"I've been living strictly in the muggle world for the past five months. I haven't even seen Ron or Hermione."

"Or the Weasel girl?" Draco snickered.

"I haven't seen her since shortly after the Battle at Hogwarts. I couldn't take living a lie any longer."

Draco's face took a serious turn. "Don't do this, Potter. It's not suited to your Gryffindor sensibilities."

Harry cocked his head. "That almost sounded like genuine concern. The implication is that you can handle it, but I can't. Or is it the competition you fear?"

"No need to be defensive. I am Slytherin, always will be. And maybe I'm simply telling you not to do this because I don't want to see that messy mop of hair constantly."

Just then, a short man, Harry guessed to be in his mid-thirties approached the two. He held his hand out to Harry.

"Are you Harry?" The man had an American accent.

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry. Harry frowned, having no idea why.

"That's me," Harry shook the hand.

"You going with the obvious?"

"Sorry?" Harry was confused.

"Your name. Are you going with a cliche? Because, you may not be taken seriously-"

"No. My name really is Harry. No last name."

"I'm Robert. Robert Winston. I see you've met the Dragon. You would do well to get to know him. He's one of the favorites even though he hasn't been here very long. He could show you the ropes." He laughed, "Listen to me, talking like you're already signed. Let's see what you've got then." He turned to Carol. "Is there a room open?"

"Try room three. They should have finished in there by now," Carol told him. "Don't be nervous, the camera's gonna love you, dear," she said to Harry.

"All right? Room three this way." Robert gestured down a hall and Harry began to follow.

Draco turned to walk down a separate hallway when Robert called to him.

"Hey, Dragon, help us out here."

Shit, piss, fuck! Draco thought to himself. He was hoping to sneak away before Robert got any ideas. It was one thing for Draco to shut himself off while performing with strangers or acquaintances. How was he supposed to do that with Potter?

"How old are you, Harry?" Robert asked.

"Nineteen, sir."

Robert stopped in front of a door. "Really? You could pass for younger with that baby face. You need to shave better, though."

Harry ran his fingers over his chin, feeling a small bit of stubble.

The three of them stepped into a room set up like a studio flat. On one side was a bed and on the other was a living room set up with a couch, comfy chair and coffee table. It was all set up in front of a false fireplace that looked fairly convincing to Harry.

Several cameras were set up on tripods in addition to two hand helds on a table opposite the furniture. Robert took a seat at the table with a few small monitors on it and told Harry to stand in front of the fireplace.

Robert picked up a large remote with seemingly endless buttons. The cameras and monitors came to life.

"Carol was right, the camera does love you."

Draco had subtly followed Robert behind the table and was now watching Harry on the monitors. Harry was still boyishly handsome as he had been in school, despite the hell he had gone through in his life.

"Harry, can you take off your glasses?" Robert requested.

Harry complied and was rewarded with a fuzzy view of the room and especially Malfoy.

"Go ahead and take off your shirt and trousers. Oh, just take off everything. We may as well get a look at the bits. I love that you guys call 'em bits," Robert laughed.

Harry could feel himself flush. It wasn't as if he had never stripped in front of strangers before. He'd done it countless times in front of men he'd picked up in various pubs. It was not a behavior becoming a savior.

No, he had no problem undressing for Robert. Malfoy was another story. His former enemy-now, what? Harry wasn't sure. They had both apparently fallen off the radar only to end up in the same place. The coincidence was overwhelming. Perhaps they weren't so different after all.

Harry proceeded to unbutton his shirt, while Robert panned the camera back. "Can you do that a little more . . . slowly?"

"Huh? Uh, yeah."

Harry slipped off his shirt revealing his broad chest and perfect abs.

"Nice," Robert commented. "Would it be a problem to shave your chest? Completely bare is the look these days. Even though there's not much, the hair makes you look a little older. In this business, the younger the better."

"I've never shaved it, but, yeah, I guess I could."

Next Harry stepped on the heels of his trainers and playfully kicked them off. He did the same with his socks, stepping on the toe section.

Then he unfastened the button of his jeans and slowly unzipped. Harry was so relieved he couldn't see the expression on Malfoy's face, though he knew he must be watching.

Draco was watching. He was watching Harry on the monitor, thinking it was a little less creepy that way. But his eyes kept drifting to the real Harry.

Deciding to get it all over with at once, Harry grabbed the waistbands of both his jeans and pants. He pulled them down together, hoping he wouldn't trip over the legs and fall flat on his face.

Finally, Harry stood completely nude.

"Turn around, boy," Robert ordered. Harry complied.

When he came about face, Robert smiled, not that Harry could really tell.

"Very nice. Maybe you ought to shave everything. What do you think Dragon?"

Oh God, was Malfoy going to comment on his appearance? Knowing him, he'd find fault with everything. Robert had no idea the rivalry between them.

Draco forced his gaze from Harry and focused on Robert. "He'd look fantastic clean shaven." Draco almost smacked his own forehead at the comment. He'd said too much and had to make up for it with a bit of criticism. "He needs to do something with that hair on his head, though. Too much in his eyes. The eyes are almost the best feature." Draco winced at his choice of words again. He really hadn't meant to say so much. But he hadn't expected Harry to look so good.

Was that a compliment? Harry thought. On my eyes?

Harry willed himself not to blush. Then it occurred to him that Malfoy said his eyes were almost his best feature. He wondered what he thought Harry's best was.

Feeling more exposed than ever before, Harry hoped he'd be able to dress soon.

"Um, anything else?" Harry asked.

"Let's see you in action."

"Action? What do you mean?"

"You know, interacting with someone else. Dragon, go show him what I mean."

Harry's heart stopped beating for a moment. At least it felt that way. Then it went straight to triple speed. This was more than he bargained for.

Draco got up without flinching and walked over to Harry.

"Hold on. May as well make it a test shot." Robert set two of the cameras to record.

Draco whispered in Harry's ear, "Just pretend it's not me. And follow my lead. As long as you don't totally screw this part up, he'll sign you. He likes you."

"All set," Robert said cheerfully. "I'm recording. Go ahead."

Draco knew the drill. He removed his shirt before Robert had to tell him and brushed his hair out of his face. At this close range, Harry could see Malfoy's face clearly. As he looked in his eyes, he could practically see the change as they glazed over.

The next thing Harry knew, Malfoy's lips were on his and his arm slipped around Harry's waist.

"Open your mouth, Potter," Draco said quietly against Harry's mouth. Harry reluctantly acquiesced and allowed Draco access. He tried to pretend that Malfoy was someone else, but it was difficult to think of anything but the fact that it was Malfoy kissing him.

Draco pulled back slightly. "Open your eyes and turn your face to the camera a bit. It feels awkward but it looks good on film," he whispered as he nuzzled Harry's neck.

Harry hadn't realized he'd kept his eyes shut so tight until he opened them. Seeing Malfoy's face that close up was disconcerting at best, but it was out of focus enough for Harry to start to relax a tiny bit. He felt Malfoy's hand in his hair, pulling his head to the side. Harry figured Malfoy was trying to get him to face the camera. It felt awkward. Well, more awkward than it had been already.

"Good. Better," Robert commented. "You need to relax more, Harry."

Malfoy broke the kiss and began to kiss down Harry's neck. He took the opportunity to instruct Harry again.

"Touch me, Potter. I feel like I'm snogging a dead fish."

Dead fish? The fucking nerve, Harry thought.

Harry Potter was no dead fish and he would prove it.

Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, then cupped his face and showered him with steamy kisses. He ran a hand down to Draco's shoulder, across his collar bone and down his chest, pausing on a nipple. Finally he rested his hand on Draco's tight six pack. Harry leaned into Draco so their bare chests were touching. Harry moaned as he pulled Draco's hair with his other hand and ran his tongue inside the Slytherin's mouth. In a brazen display of un-dead fishness, Harry snaked his hand down Malfoy's trousers, which were loose enough to accommodate the hand easily. What Harry found there nearly had him choking on Draco's spit-Draco was aroused. Harry himself was not and he wondered if it was because he was nervous or with Malfoy or if this would happen with any of them.

Draco let out a small moan when Harry wrapped his hand around him. It gave Harry a great deal of satisfaction to feel like he finally had the upper hand, so to speak.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Robert exclaimed. "You're a natural." He hit the remote. "You can get dressed and come into my office. Carol will show you where to go." Robert swiftly got up and left the room.

Harry removed his hand and swore he heard a whimper of disappointment from Draco. Draco leaned back away from Harry.

"You're good, Potter. I'll give you that," he said. He glanced down Harry's body. "The Hat was right. You should have been in Slytherin, being able to fuck with a person like that and remain unaffected."

"I took the dead fish comment as a challenge," Harry replied.

"As I meant it. You always take the bait, Potter." Malfoy bent down and picked up his shirt and started to walk out.

Harry began to put his jeans back on. "Yeah, but I hooked you, didn't I?"

Draco continued to walk out without comment or looking back.

Sitting in Robert Winston's office, Harry began filling out paperwork while Winston asked Harry questions and gave him the rundown of the place.

"You'll get paid for the time you put in, but you'll only come into the studios when scheduled. Usually, it works out more like getting paid per film. And sometimes you'll work a lot, sometimes, not so much. We have exclusives to you, too. No moonlighting. We book appearances occasionally. And, of course, doing the extras pays extra."

"Extras?"

"Fetish stuff, S & M, taking two at once. Anything kinky really. Do you bottom?" Robert asked Harry the question as casually as a dentist would ask if he flossed.

Harry blushed. "I've only done that twice. It's not my preference."

"Well, you may have to. You and your partner can work that out, though. Blow jobs are expected, as well as cuming on film. That's a tricky one," Robert laughed. "You gotta remember to pull out. You have a problem with any of this, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry replied.

"And don't call me Sir. It's Robert. Nobody even calls me Mr. Winston."

"Okay Robert."

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll fit right in. We do mostly cutesy twink stuff. The emo boys are really popular these days. It's still hard core, though."

Harry felt like Robert was speaking a different language. He didn't know what emo or twink was, but he guessed he'd figure it out soon enough.

Robert continued to bombard Harry with information. "I officially recommend condoms but not everybody likes them. Again, you and whatever partner you have will have to work that out. Any questions?"

"When will I start?" Harry asked anxiously.

"You'll have to be screened first. Go to the lab today. As soon as you're clear, you're good. Usually it's less than a week," Robert told him. "And you'd do well not to get romantically involved with anybody you work with regularly. It'd be better not to get involved with anyone here at all. But it happens. Do you have any preferences?"

"Preferences for what?"

"A type. You know, to get you going. Everybody has a type. Of course, we could put you with anyone, but I like my boys to be happy. It comes across on film."

Harry's attention was drawn to the door as Draco walked by.

"Blonds," he answered.

Harry walked out of the office after his conversation with Robert and a handshake, with a signed contract. He was officially on board. He looked to see if Malfoy was around. Disappointed that he wasn't, Harry turned and headed toward the reception desk. Carol smiled as she looked up at him. She handed him directions to a local lab and a request form.

"Your friend just left," she said, handing him yet more paperwork.

"What friend?" Harry tried to sound nonchalant. Technically, he and Malfoy weren't friends, so it wasn't a lie.

"I won't say anything. Just keep it on the down low. Office romance is frowned upon here."

"That definitely won't be a problem," Harry smiled. "We are not friends."

Harry stepped outside feeling- he wasn't sure what he was feeling. He secured a relatively well paying job, but at what cost? Really, Harry reasoned, it wasn't going to be that different from picking up random strangers and fucking them in a public toilet. At least these boys would be clean, and probably better looking. The young man that held the door open for him sure was fine. And blond.

Harry wondered why he said that. He never really had a preference for a particular look. And now he may get paired with the blondest blond of all. That thought simultaneously made Harry nauseous and excited. He hadn't expected Malfoy to react to him. At first Harry thought he had gotten to him, but the more he thought about it, he decided Malfoy must have simply been in performance mode. Becoming aroused on cue probably took a certain amount of talent. Yes, that was all, Malfoy was just damned good at his job.

"Oi, Potter!" Harry turned to see Malfoy leaning against the building drinking a Coke.

Harry had been so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't noticed the platinum blond standing there. And Malfoy was not someone to go unnoticed.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged.

Malfoy pushed himself off the wall with his foot and strode toward Harry.

"So, you're really doing this then?" he asked Harry.

"I need the money. And it sounds better than fucking anonymous men in dark alleyways."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "But you're the Chosen One," he said mockingly.

"Not here. Here I'm just a guy with a scar on my head. And maybe a few on my body. Though that didn't seem to bother Robert any. Here I'm just another loser with no employment." Harry sighed. "Actually, it's nice to be anonymous." He almost added that it was sometimes lonely but he didn't want to appear to be a complete tosser to Malfoy.

"Well, it looks like you're no longer unemployed," Draco said, pointing to the familiar paperwork in Harry's hand.

Harry smiled. "That's right. I should be celebrating. Come to a pub with me, Malfoy."

Draco blinked. "You want me to go celebrate with you? Are you that desperate?" he chortled.

"Yeah, maybe I am."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. He was joking, but the look on Harry's face almost made him feel sorry for him.

"You're pathetic, Potter," he said, with just a hint of a smirk. "Come on then, you ever been to The Outside Inn?"

"Uh, how 'bout someplace different. Got myself tossed out of there last time I went. You know Paddy's?"

Malfoy laughed. A genuine laugh. Harry didn't recall ever hearing it before. Well, maybe when Malfoy had laughed at his expense. "Okay, but you must tell me that story. Our Savior, booted out of a public house."

Paddy's was close enough to walk and the day was unusually mild and fairly sunny day for London. Being midday, it was less crowded than it was at night. Harry and Draco sat on stools at the bar and ordered a couple of pints.

"I thought you were broke," Draco said as they both pulled out money and placed it on the bar.

"I have enough money for beer. And besides, I invited you to come here with me. I'm paying," Harry insisted. "And I'm hungry. The bangers and mash here is spot on."

Draco shook his head. "You know, now that you're under contract, you may want to watch what you put into your body. No more steak and kidney pudding for you."

Harry looked down at himself. "Do you think I'm chubby or something? I don't look good starkers?"

Dracos' eyes widened. Harry said that just as the barmaid was walking by.

"Keep your voice down, Potter. You don't need to broadcast our business."

"Did you think the barmaid didn't already know you're a ponce? I mean, look at you. Tailored clothes, expensive haircut, well manicured hands that have obviously never done a hard day's work," Harry chuckled.

Draco huffed. "It's not my fault I was born into a life of privilege and you weren't. You're not better than me simply because-"

Harry cut him off. "I was only joking, Malfoy. I didn't like your implication about my eating habits. Speaking of eating. Would you like something?"

Draco didn't want to admit he was hungry, mainly because he didn't want Harry buying him lunch. A beer was one thing. He was about to decline when his stomach rumbled faintly. But Harry still heard.

"I'll take that as a yes," Harry laughed. He ordered a chicken club, minus the mayonnaise for them to split and two small Caesar salads with the dressing on the side.

"Does that meet with your approval?" Harry asked with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Catching Draco's discomfort at having his lunch ordered and paid for, Harry pouted. "You're taking the fun out of this. I haven't taken anybody out in a long time. Wait, I didn't mean it like that." Harry blushed. "I only meant that Ron, Hermione and I would take turns treating each other to things." Harry's mood took on a somber air and he looked away from Draco.

"So why haven't you?" Malfoy asked before he could even think. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear Harry's sad tale. But he'd already asked and knowing the Gryffindor, he'd been waiting for someone to spill his guts to.

Harry simply shrugged. "I dunno." But he did know. They didn't understand his self-destructive lifestyle.

"Do they have a problem with you being gay?" Draco couldn't figure out why he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"No. They have a problem with me drinking myself into oblivion and having sex with strangers in strange places. Not to mention the careless use of magic." He paused and gave Malfoy a sideways glance, trying to gauge his reaction. "I've had to Obliviate a few muggles."

He expected a lecture from Malfoy about using magic in the muggle world, the same as Hermione gave him. So he was surprised when Malfoy instead offered, "It's difficult not to use magic. It's hard not to tell anyone."

Their food was placed in front of them and they ate in relative silence, each wondering how in the hell the two of them ended up eating lunch together in a muggle pub, among other things. The longer they went without talking, the larger the elephant in the room became. The image of their encounter in the studio never fully left either of their minds. Harry finally addressed it in a way that gave Malfoy an 'out'.

He kept his voice low. "So, I guess after working for Winston a while, one learns how to . . . be ready at will?"

Draco coughed as beer sputtered out of his mouth. "Are you mental, talking about that in public?"

"What? I worded it quite subtly, I thought."

Draco scowled at him. "Work stays at work."

"Oh, I thought maybe you could give me some advice. And tell me any tricks for-"

"Watch it," Malfoy warned.

"I was only going to ask what you do if you don't find the other person attractive. At all. I mean, how did you do that earlier? With someone you hate?"

"What part of 'work stays at work' don't you get, Potter? Besides, I'm likely the only one you're going to hate. And we may never have to worry about it."

Harry noticed he didn't answer the question. Nor did he deny hating him. And yet, he was there, sharing a meal with Harry. "I don't hate you. Not anymore. I let go of that a long time ago," Harry offered. Harry didn't just let go of the hate, he held onto something else. When Harry saw Draco again, his confusing feelings about Malfoy resurfaced.

Draco's mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were about to say something, then changed his mind.

"Don't fall in love with any of them," Draco finally said after a while.

"Sorry?"

"My advice. Don't fool yourself into thinking it's more than it is. It's not love, it's acting. Just a job."

"You speaking from experience?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed, "Unfortunately." He decided not to elaborate. He shifted his gaze around the room to make sure no one was listening. "And wank in the morning before coming in for a filming day," he said almost in a whisper.

"Why?" Harry kept his voice low as well.

Draco looked at him and rolled his eyes. "Think about it, Potter."

"Oh, yeah. Guess we wouldn't want the show to end too soon," Harry chuckled.

After finishing their lunch and beer, Harry and Malfoy parted ways with a cursory "See you."

Harry watched Draco's back as he walked in the opposite direction, thinking that had to be the most surreal experience of his life. He headed for his tiny studio flat alone, resisting the urge to find another pub and another anonymous lover. Instead, he did something much more disturbing. He lay on his bed, wanking to thoughts of kissing Draco Malfoy.

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