Draco/Blaise: "I hate this place, this zoo, this prison, this... reality." (the Matrix)
Malfoy looked too composed for someone who was supposed to be on the run. Infuriating.
Blaise cast a glance around to make sure no one was paying attention, and stepped closer. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Waiting," said Malfoy, looking down at his feet.
"None of your business." Malfoy lifted his head; there was a defiant look on his face.
Their eyes met briefly, and Blaise felt his face grow hot. The last time they saw each other was a year ago. It was the afternoon Blaise found Malfoy behind the Slytherin Quidditch stands, drunk out of his mind on some illegal Syrian Firewhisky. Blaise had taken advantage of Malfoy; he'd been intending to tell everyone, but the next day, Malfoy had brought Death Eaters into the school and then disappeared.
He didn't know what to say to Malfoy. It was as though last year was from a different reality, one where all that mattered was social status with your peers and who can play the cruelest joke. Now, Malfoy looked more grown-up than Blaise felt and Blaise hated him for it, hated himself for not being like him. Just as you always have, said a nasty voice in his head.
Malfoy seemed to notice something behind Blaise. "I have to go," he said in a clipped tone, pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and hurried past without another word.
Harry/Draco: Houston, we have a problem.
"Houston, we have a problem."
"What do you mean, never mind? Who the fuck is Houston?"
"It's a quote. From a Muggle film."
"So he's a Muggle? Great, Potter. Just wonderful. You've betrayed me with a Muggle."
"I didn't-- oh, for crying out loud, Draco. It's a quote. There is no Houston."
"You lie. You said someone else's name in bed and you're trying to cover it up."
"It's a film! With Tom Hanks! I watched it with Hermione when she was sick with the flu last month!"
"So it was an orgy? Who's this Tom Hanks character? I should have known Granger wasn't actually ill. You foul, lying--"
"Oh, shut up."
"...How did you know I wasn't being serious?"
"Because if I were really to attend an orgy with Hermione present, you'd be more pissed off that I didn't invite you."
"That's a lie. She's a Mu-- ggleborn."
"She's got a nice rack, though."
Harry/Draco: We all go a little mad sometimes.
Harry doesn't know how it happens, not even later, after. He doesn't know why he's got Malfoy bent over Lupin's worktable.
There were words -- harsh, shouted ones; about Snape and Lucius Malfoy and duty. There were other words, spoken in a low, dangerous voice -- about Dumbledore and Ginny and cowardice. Wands were drawn.
Then nothing, blank, nothing except the heat around his cock and Malfoy's knuckles, white around the table's edges. Harry's frantic with need now, driving himself deeper -- and deeper in, biting his lip to keep from crying out.
"You're mad," whimpers Malfoy. "You'll make me bleed."
"We all go a little mad sometimes," Harry says, his voice raspy. "And you would deserve it."
Harry laughs, and his hand on Malfoy's hips tighten. Malfoy screams then, and so does Harry.
Later, Malfoy's on the low cot in the corner, his back to the door, wrapped in the shabby blanket Lupin found for him. Harry feels a brief stab of something human, but tells himself it's nothing.
He speaks before he leaves, just like he always does.
"Sweet dreams, you bastard."