7

By the time Draco finally made it to McGonogall's office, about ten minutes had passed from the lesson. The Dean of Gryffindor grunted irritably when he appeared at the door.

- Mr. Malfoy, where have you been?

Draco was about to spout some epic story about his tardiness, but at that moment Potter turned around in the classroom and looked him straight in the eye. Blood rushed to Malfoy's cheeks instantly, and he lost all his eloquence at once, managing only to stretch out:

- I... Um... Well...

- I see. Don't bother composing yourself. Minus five points to Slytherin for being late without an excuse. Sit down.

"Bloody hell! I don't need to blush in front of him!"

- I repeat especially for you, Mr. Malfoy, today we will be practicing the spell from the section on the simple transfiguration of metal into wood," McGonogall said as Draco took his seat next to Blaise. His friend, who was literally bursting with curiosity, regarded him with interest.

- Now each of you will receive a small piece of aluminium and try to turn it into a wooden figurine of some kind of animal. All you have to do is clearly imagine the end result of your actions and say "Lignumus".

McGonogall took a small iron box from the table and walked quickly through the rows, handing out exactly the same pieces of light shiny metal to everyone.

- Draco, what happened to you? - Blaise whispered, taking advantage of the lull.

"It's starting! It's not going to let up now! Oh, no way!"

- Nothing," he said as seriously as possible, though his heart was beating like a hammer against an anvil. - Just dozed off a bit.

- Don't lie to me, I went into the bedroom - you weren't there! Draco, spill! Has this got something to do with Potter? He's late too!

- Blaise, let it go!" But the thick blush on his cheeks was more eloquent than words, confirming Zabini's assumption.

- No, look at him. I can't leave him alone for another minute. Already he's in trouble!

- I can't leave him alone for another minute!" "Please, young people, hold off talking until after the break," McGonogall said.

The boys obediently fell silent as they received their aluminum practice sheets.

Draco was magnetically drawn to look at Potter, but he tried to hold back. The incident in the corridor came back to him over and over again, causing his forehead to turn to sweat. Malfoy had never been embarrassed about meddling in someone else's private life, but masturbating to Potter, so defenseless and innocent, unaware that anyone was watching him...

- Let's all do it again together! "Lignumus!"

- Lignumus! - The class obediently responded.

After a few friendly repetitions, everyone got to work.

- You must visualise the end result as clearly as possible. Until your mind has verified even the smallest detail of the future product, no transfiguration will take place, and your magic will only shake the air around you.

Draco decided to concentrate on the spell to distract from the chaos in his feelings and emotions, so he obediently closed his eyes, trying to imagine some kind of living creature. The first thing that came to mind for some reason was the fater he had seen today, but that memory instantly built a bridge further to the green eyes and the delightful cock, which was everything he was trying hard to put out of his mind. The possessor of all the aforementioned wealth (Draco couldn't bear to look at Potter after all) sat glaring at the sheet of metal lying before him.

The Slytherin shook his head to shake away the obsession and raised his wand. All right, a faeather so be it. Not a ferret, after all! (At the moment, the existence of many other animals in the world was a non-issue to Draco).

Malfoy closed his eyes again, imagining the feathered panther, and cast a spell. The magic immediately pierced the air with an energy pulse, but no more than that - a piece of metal still lay unchanged on the table in front of him. After several unsuccessful attempts, Draco decided to take a break. Next to him sat a puzzled looking Blaise, who was also not at all successful in his task. As he looked around, he discovered that they were far from the only ones who had failed. The students had been poring over the samples, casting light magical waves across the room, but no one had been able to achieve any results so far. The Slytherin grinned maliciously when he saw that even "Miss Perfect" Granger was failing this transfiguration, and the Gryffindor girl red with anger and frustration was repeating the spell over and over again, waving her wand.

Her gaze slid back to Potter. He looked like a wax doll, sitting with his back perfectly straight on the very edge of his chair, and Draco involuntarily wondered how he could even be sitting with THAT in his trousers. Sweat trickled down the Gryffindor's face constantly, forcing him to wipe his forehead with the sleeve of his robes every now and then. It didn't take a genius to figure out that there was clearly something wrong with the boy, so it seemed rather odd that McGonogall wasn't saying anything to him. Though given that Draco was late, such a dialogue must have already taken place.

"No, still, how is it that having such a beautiful cock, he still doesn't have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?! That's just disregard and disrespect for his own dignity!" Potter ran his hand over his face again and then closed his eyes, biting his lip hard. What was that he was doing? Draco got the answer by following the Gryffindor's other hand, which was stroking his crotch leisurely under the table. "Merlin's balls..." - Draco managed to think before blushing thickly again.

Now was the chance to embarrass the stubborn bespectacled boy! Just a simple whisper around the classroom and after class the whole school would know what Potter was doing in Transfiguration! Just a finger poke, drawing attention, and there it is - the fierce hatred...! But all Draco could do now was blush desperately, watching the movement of Potter's hand under the desk. "What's the matter with me?!"

- Shit, this isn't working! - swore under his breath, making Draco flinch and turn hastily back to his desk.

Malfoy said nothing and tried to concentrate on the task again.

He should try again. He should be able to do it, he should at least work off the five points taken off for being late. He closed his eyes again, trying to concentrate on the image of the faither. But as it turned out, what was happening at the next desk interested his imagination far more than the task at hand, lavishing the Slytherin with more and more piquant images.

It was frightening to imagine how cramped that big perfect cock was now in the captivity of the tight Potter's trousers.

Shaking his head, Draco covered his eyes, raised his wand boldly...

"I'm not interested in his cock!"

Already casting the spell, Malfoy realised that something irreparable was about to happen, but it was too late... Judging by Blaise's strangled squeak, it was bad indeed. Very bad! Gathering his strength, he opened his eyes and nearly dropped his wand.

Honestly, Malfoy had expected anything. But he couldn't have imagined that standing in front of him on the desk at his perfect height would be the perfect, beautiful and insanely desirable... Him.

A wooden fucking cock!

What's more - that cock belonged to one particular person, whom Draco was now assiduously slinging every unflattering word possible!

Holy shit!

Malfoy, having come to his senses, turned an even richer shade of red, swiftly grabbing his "product" and hiding it in his pocket. I wish no one would notice...! Blaise couldn't seem to get a word out; he was just watching Draco with huge eyes and a mad smile.

- Professor McGonogall, um... can I get another sample? - Draco asked cautiously, stammering with excitement. - I spoiled mine..." he added as soon as the teacher gave him a suspicious look.

Blaise chuckled sneakily into his fist, and then gave a stifled 'cough'.

- Why don't you show me what you've got? Any result is important now.

At the thought of showing McGonogall and the whole class his 'result', Draco became whiter than chalk in a split second.

- No, no, I don't think so. I didn't get... hmm... any definite shape.

Zabini, the sneaky bastard, coughed even harder, already practically shaking in convulsions. And he's called a best friend!

- Take it, Mr. Malfoy. And I hope you get it right the second time.

Draco took another piece of metal from the box and returned to his seat, glaring angrily at Blaise.

- You overreacted about the shape, Draco! It's a very concrete shape. How dare you think about someone else's dick! Yeah, yeah, don't mind me, I'm sorry, I know exactly what yours looks like. So whose is it?

Blushing again, Malfoy clenched his fists as hard as he could, trying to fight the urge to punch Blaise right in class!

- I don't have to report anything to you! - He whispered irritably and turned away defiantly, letting him know that the dialogue was over.

"That's it. Enough is enough. Just need to calm down..."

However, as he reached into his robes pocket for his wand, he didn't realize that the first wand to slip into his hand would be of a hmm... different kind. "Oh, Merlin..." - Draco mentally sighed, touching the warm wood (why warm?!). The damned cock felt as if it had been made especially for his hand. Unable to resist the temptation, the Slytherin ran his palm along the full length of the artificial dignity, imagining what it would be like to also run his hand over the real thing... "Fuck, I'm dreaming of touching Potter's cock. I mean.... that's... Impossible!"

Draco let the fruit of his replayed fantasy out of his hands and finally pulled out his wand. God, when would this endless lesson ever end! You can't look at Potter. You can't look at Potter!

Tranquillity. Attention. Concentration. Is he a Malfoy after all, or a sex maniac fetishist obsessed with other people's cocks? Well... Well, just the one.

"Yeah, who knew that wanker had such a large calibre gun in his trousers?!"

Shit!

Stay calm. Focus. Concentration.

A small wooden figure of a Fater sitting on all four paws appeared before my eyes. Right. That's it. Now all that was left was to cast the spell. But just as Draco said the cherished "Lignumus," a low moan resounded in the classroom, instantly sending a familiar shiver through his entire body.

Potter. Was he...? О...

There was answering laughter in the classroom, but Draco was shocked as he stared at the poor Gryffindor, trying to overcome the painful arousal that his moaning had caused. Red with embarrassment and shame, Potter sat with his palms over his mouth as if he himself couldn't believe the sound that had just come from it. "Apparently he really did cum."

- What's going on? - McGonogall asked. - 'Mr Potter, are you not feeling well?

- 'He seems fine to me,' said one of the Slytherins, eliciting more chuckles.

- 'Um... Well... I... don't feel very well.

- Then why don't you go see Madam Pomfrey?

- Yeah, after class... I'll definitely... go," Potter mumbled. Every word seemed to be struggling for him.

Draco should have been gloating right now, giving in to all the jokes that were falling on the Gryffindor from all sides. But he wasn't feeling a hundredth of the emotion he should have been feeling. Instead, Malfoy suddenly felt a prick of conscience - a very unpleasant, nasty, nasty kind of prick. A feeling completely unaccustomed to him.

In his heavy ponderings, Draco missed the fatal moment when Professor McGonogall approached their desk.

- Mr. Malfoy... Mm-hm-hm," she coughed strangely. Draco didn't immediately understand why the teacher was looking at his desk so strangely, covered in a rosy, youthful blush.

Oh no. Not again. Not again!

Malfoy followed her gaze, as all the students, intrigued by McGonogall's strange reaction, and mentally chanted an epitaph to himself. Because it was time to seriously consider suicide.

Bloody hell!!!

Of course, he had already forgotten about the spell he had cast. And sure enough, now there he stood in front of him again in all his beautiful stature.

A wooden cock.

It was the second one.

Although this time it was mahogany, lacquered, standing on its own scrotum like a pedestal. Yeah... Gotcha. For the umpteenth time today, Draco blushed as much as the unfortunate Potter, wishing he could fall through the ground.

Practically choking on laughter, the Slytherins and Gryffindors couldn't believe their luck - they had never been so happy to have Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in their faculties as they were today.

- You know, Mr. Malfoy, THIS is a bit different from the animal figurine, but... objectively speaking, it's a pretty good job. The quality of the wood, the lacquering, and the clarity and grace of the lines, not to mention the size!

The Dean of Gryffindor, a dignified lady of advanced years, judging with a serious look upon the perfection of the wooden phallus, shot the students who were sobbing with laughter to a pulp.

- You were able to visualize this... hmm... object quite clearly and you concentrated enough to get such a result. So... you have completed the task, ten points to Slytherin for originality!

Red as a cancer, Draco looked at McGonogall and flapped his long dark eyelashes, unable to believe what was happening. He'd been given points for transfiguring aluminium into a wooden cock! This was the most absurd situation imaginable. It's just not possible...! "If she knew whose dignity it was... It's a good thing no one knows!" - but the thought was followed by a wild horror.

One person in this class knows whose "magic wand" it is! And that person was its sole and rightful owner.

Very slowly, Draco turned his head, holding his breath like a swimmer before he plunged into the water.

Potter had a look on his face as if Dementors in pink nightgowns were doing rounds in front of him. He stared unblinkingly at the wooden dignity towering over the desk, surely recognising it. Of course, it's hard not to recognise your own cock, especially when it's been like this most of the day! Draco blushed even more when Potter looked into his eyes and, of course, had no trouble reading the answer to his silent question in them. "Merlin... Potter knows. Potter knows I've been watching him."

And Malfoy felt ashamed. For the first time in his conscious life. And for the first time in his life, he was the first to lower his gaze.

The Gryffindorian hypnotised Malfoy for a while longer, and then his eyes went black as they had earlier in the day, and he smiled. Not at all like an embarrassed, coy teenager, but like a true predator.

A predator who had found his prey.