A sharp fingernail suddenly scratched his nipple and Harry jerked. He froze as the light movements on his body suddenly turned harsh: Voldemort’s hands slid down his waist, across his stomach and thighs, hooking the brim of his jeans. Of course, he had to take his clothes off if they were going to do anything. It was very, very embarrassing. Harry had only ever undressed in the team showers, but there were cubicles with curtains so he didn’t have to see other people naked — or allow himself to be seen. Did it really have to be Voldemort?