Chapter 3

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It was only a few moments before Potter came to, a few moments that Draco absolutely did not spend appreciating Potter’s weight on top of him, his arms circling the shorter boy, resting lightly on his back.

Blinking and mumbling softly, Harry shifted slightly and then froze, remembering where he was and... who he was on top of? With a sharp intake of breath Harry  suddenly became very conscious of the lithe body underneath him, the blurry grey eyes only inches away from his own. He attempted to scramble off Malfoy, those grey eyes watching him with amusement. Fuck, he thought, only too aware of what had happened. Why had he not gotten out of there earlier? Fuck. Scrambling around for his glasses, he cursed under his breath.
“Potter.” Harry stopped and looked at the blond, lying on the floor, propped up on his elbows, holding out his glasses. Git. Harry thought, glaring at Malfoy  and reaching for them.
But Malfoy jerked them out of his reach, and Harry felt a rush of heat travel up his neck.

Draco was holding the glasses, thinking this through. Potter would just leave as soon as he got his glasses back, he was sure of it. And he needed to know what the hell just happened.
His thoughts were interrupted as a mop of messy black hair was flung into his face and Potter pounced on him, apparently in desperate need to reach his glasses. Draco let out a whoosh of surprise and fell back onto the floor. The shorter boy’s legs straddled Draco’s middle, his fingertips brushing the wire frame.
“Do you really want me on the ground that bad Potter?” He smirked. Red flooded into Potter’s cheeks, although his scowl grew bigger at the comment.
“Potter are you going to tell me why you freaked out like that or are you just going to run off?”
Again there was no answer, Potter grabbing the glasses instead, jamming them on his face before picking himself up and rushing out of the corner.

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