Harry Potter, the boy who lived, now a man, remembers the boy he once desired. Late at night, in the privacy of his quarters, he allows his mind to wander back to those forbidden thoughts. His hand slides down his chest, over the hard planes, to grip his throbbing cock. He closes his eyes, picturing Malfoy, the sneer replaced with a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he takes Harry's cock into his mouth. Harry's hand moves faster, his breathing ragged, until he finds his release, imagining Malfoy's name on his lips.