"Malcolm, Bludger at three o'clock! Take a dive!"

"Thanks, Potter!"

Harry grinned as his teammate executed a perfectly smooth dive, avoiding the Bludger by a hair. These new brooms were fantastic. Heidi swopped alongside him, laughing with the pure joy of possessing a Nimbus 2020 that wasn't trying to throw her off. "Now that's quality," she grinned, spinning around him giddily. Harry laughed. The team was in high spirits. Practice was a different story now, thanks to their new equipment. He just hoped they could get to some actual practice in before the season started again.

He spotted a tell-tale glint at the far side of the pitch and took off at once. The Snitch hummed and hovered just out of reach and then as if spotting him, took off at the speed of light. Harry gave chase at once, stretching his hand out as he pursued his elusive quarry at break neck speed. The Snitch took a sharp right and he nearly swerved, but the broom held good and he snapped into action again. The Snitch fluttered indecisively for a second and that's all he needed. Harry whooped triumphantly as his fingers closed around the little golden ball.

"Time!" Oliver yelled from the goal posts. "Thirty four minutes! Not bad, people!"

Harry swopped to the ground and landed smoothly, his fist still clenched around the fluttering Snitch. "Got you, beautiful," he grinned. A sudden flash of silver eyes and soft, full lips assaulted his memory, catching him off guard. Harry blinked in surprise. Malfoy again... the git seemed to have permanently slithered his way into Harry's every waking moment.

It had been a few days since his last 'date' with the blond. Ever since, visions of Malfoy had haunted him. His lithe, slender body, the way he felt pressed up against Harry, how he had looked when he had thought Harry was about to kiss him... the Seeker grinned. It had been a while since he'd had the chance to rile Malfoy up. It was just as much fun as he remembered.

Too much fun, perhaps.

Harry let go of the Snitch, watching it buzz away. Malfoy was beautiful - the ultimate prize. But that didn't mean that he could lose focus. This was a deal and he had every intention of upholding his side of the bargain. But falling for the prat wasn't part of it, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to.

A familiar flash of scarlet caught his attention suddenly and Harry grinned as he jogged down the pitch over to the stands. "Hey, pretty girl," he greeted, kissing the witch on the cheek.

"Excuse me?" Ginny retorted, flicking her ever present cigarette. "Do I know you, stranger?"

"Very funny," Harry snorted, sitting next to her. "I told you I was going to be busy for a while."

"You may have mentioned," she replied, releasing a gentle spire of smoke in his general direction. "Call me crazy but as official best friend and honorary fag hag, I expect a little more notice than 'Won't be around for a while. Stay golden. PS: New bartender at the Leaky - he's hot.'"

"Fag hag?" Harry repeated dryly.

"You deserved it. Now, care to tell me where you've been?"

"Around," Harry replied vaguely. "Practice and... other stuff."

Ginny grinned knowingly. "Does 'other stuff' have a name?"

"Damn, you're good."

"I knew it!" Ginny crowed. "So who is he? Anyone I know?" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're not shacking up with Justin again, are you?"

"No!" Harry blurted at once. Honestly, even he shuddered slightly at the thought...

"Good," Ginny sniffed. "Anyone's better than that mess."

"I'm glad you think so," Harry smirked. "Just remember that sentiment when you meet my boyfriend, okay?"

"Boyfriend?" Ginny squeaked in surprise. "You work fast."

"It just... sort of happened," Harry shrugged, rubbing his neck awkwardly. He had never been good at lying to her. Apparently Ginny thought so too. The redhead's eyes narrowed again, taking on a calculative look. "What aren't you telling me?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yeah," Ginny snorted. "Pull the other one, Harry. Look, I'm not going to go all Hermione on you and tell you how to live your life. But just do a girl a favour and promise me not to do anything stupid, okay?"

"Yes, mum."

"Prat," she giggled, slapping him playfully on the head. "Up for a quick one at the Leaky? I have a sudden craving for bartender on the rocks."

Harry thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. "Can't," he offered regretfully. "I have to be somewhere tonight."

Ginny smirked. "Other stuff?"

Harry chuckled and nodded, standing up to see her out. "Soon, Harry," she reminded him as they walked over to the nearest Apparition point.

"I promise."

Ginny nodded. "Nice broom, by the way." And with one sharp crack, she was gone.

Harry stared at the spot she'd been standing in for a while. He hadn't really planned to see anyone tonight, but all of a sudden the thought of Malfoy's company was appealing. Damn, there really was no escaping the git, was there?

Shaking his head, Harry Apparated to his flat.

He only hoped that Malfoy was having as hard a time of this as he was.

****

Draco was pouting when the owl arrived.

As it turned out, Potter had the capacity to annoy him even when he was nowhere in sight. It had been four days since that disaster of a... whatever it was - Draco refused to term it as a date - and Potter hadn't tried to contact him since. Not that Draco wanted him to. It would just be nice to know that the bastard hadn't snogged him and then fallen off the face of the earth.

It was hard to explain why he was so angry. Every time, he tried to rant about the whole Potter taking him to Paris and kissing him and then not kissing him fiasco, Andromeda merely gushed about how romantic it all sounded and Father looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. Blaise in true form, proved to be as useless as ever and would either laugh or tell him to just owl Potter already.

Draco had no intention of doing anything of the sort. No thank you. If Potter had decided that he wasn't worth the bother anymore that was fine with him! He was certainly not pouting over the fact! No way. As far as Draco was concerned, Potter could just go to...

The owl landed gracefully at his desk and hooted loudly, startling him. Draco abandoned his book and hurried over, relieving the bird of the parcel. A note was attached to it and he read it quickly (not eagerly).

Hey lovely,

I saw these and thought about you. Figured you could use some help expanding your horizons. Wear them for me tonight? I'll pick you at 8.

H

PS: Don't make me abduct you again. Much as I love indulging your naughty little fantasies, I'm pretty sure it'll freak your father out.

Draco gnashed his teeth and picked up the parcel, fully intending to Incendio it. Another note slipped out of it and he snatched it up.

PPS: Don't even think about. I'll glue them on you if I have to.

Bastard.

He would, too.

Draco fed the owl a treat and watched it fly away before turning his attention to the parcel. He tore at the paper, unwrapping it efficiently and taking out the simple set of clothes. Thank Merlin. He'd half expected Potter to send lingerie... the thought made his cheeks flush and he dismissed it hurriedly, turning his attention to the present.

He recognized the denim trousers. Theo used to hide his stash of muggle magazines under his bed. Draco had spent many a night gleefully roving through pictures of male models dressed in jeans and not much else. Apparently, Potter wanted to see him like that. The thought made him smirk.

The shirt was a bit more of a revelation. A simple button down made of black silk with a silver dragon embroidered on the back. It would fit like a glove. Not to mention the colour would set off his pale skin perfectly... it was beautiful. No wonder Potter wanted him to wear it.

Draco chuckled and flicked it away carelessly. So Potter wanted to play, did he? Well, the prat may have one over him but there was no way he was going to tell Draco how to dress. Humming to himself, the blond rummaged through his closet. He selected a simple charcoal grey shirt that brought out his eyes. This would do. Potter could just wait for him to wear the black one, if he ever decided to. He eyed the jeans speculatively. He supposed he could wear them. They would certainly look fantastic on him. No harm in throwing Potter a bone, right?

Draco chuckled and sauntered off to the bathroom to preen.

This time, he was ready for Potter.

****

Harry flooed into Malfoy Manor at five past eight, immediately finding himself in the company of Lucius Malfoy and his graceful companion. He smiled as he recognized the regal witch at once - Andromeda Tonks nee Black. Apparently, she lived here now. Suddenly, he was thankful that he'd thought ahead and brought some flowers just in case.

"Mrs Tonks," he greeted her warmly. "It's been too long. And how are you, Lucius?"

Lucius nodded in greeting, leaving the pleasantries to Andromeda. "Mr Potter," she smiled, taking his hand. "It's wonderful to see you again. What a lovely arrangement."

"For you, of course," Harry grinned, presenting them to her with flourish. She laughed and accepted. "How charming. I confess it's been a while since I've received flowers."

"Shame, that" Harry smiled. He had always felt warmly towards Andromeda, despite her discomfiting resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange. "I'll make it a point to send a dozen roses across every day."

"That won't be necessary, Potter," Lucius cut in stiffly. Harry raised an eyebrow as he noticed the tic in the older man's jaw. Lucius shifted subtly so that he was standing just a little closer to the witch, giving Harry what looked a lot like a warning glare.

Ah.

The younger man nodded and disengaged Andromeda gently, taking a measured step back to ensure a respectful distance. He suppressed a grin as Lucius visibly relaxed.

"I don't suppose Draco plans to come downstairs anytime soon?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He'll be here soon, I'm sure" Andromeda explained. "He's been expecting you, of course."

"More like dreading," Lucius muttered.

"Lucius!"

Harry grinned. "Things have been a little tense. But I'll make sure he has fun tonight."

"Not too much fun, Potter," Lucius drawled. "We wouldn't want you out of commission for the Canons, would we?"

Harry smirked, catching the subtle warning. "I promise to bring your son home unscathed, Lucius. Gryffindor's honour."

Lucius nodded stiffly. "Indeed. Which reminds me, Potter - how would you feel about a little one-on-one training with a former Falmouth Falcons seeker? A little extra practice for the Cup would certainly not go amiss."

"That would be brilliant. Thank you," Harry offered with a discreet smirk.

"A pleasure, Mr Potter," Lucius replied.

Andromeda watched the exchange, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What..." she began, just as a house elf scurried in to interrupt them.

"Young Master Malfoy is being here, Mr Potter," he announced, taking off again. Moments later, a pair of footsteps thudded across the plush carpeting and Harry turned around.

"Draco," Lucius greeted smoothly. "How nice of you to join us."

****

"Thank you, Father," Draco greeted stiffly. "Evening, Aunt Andromeda."

"Hello, Dragon," she smiled, giving him a light hug. Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably as he turned to Potter. The man was watching him intently. Green eyes roamed his thin frame in interest and Draco tugged consciously at the hem of his grey shirt. He raised his chin defiantly, silently daring Potter to comment on his choice of wardrobe. The taller man raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead he stepped forward and took Draco's hand with easy confidence. "You look amazing," he murmured, placing a gentle kiss to Draco's wrist. The blond flushed and disengaged quickly, trying to ignore the tingling of Potter's lips against his skin.

"Thank you," he all but mumbled. Andromeda smiled and Lucius rolled his eyes.

"I presume you'll be back at an appropriate time?" he drawled.

"I am not twelve, Father. I don't have a curfew," Draco gritted. That's all he needed, being coddled like a child in front of Potter. He tamped down his embarrassment and scowled at the man, who looked far too amused for his own good. But to his credit, Potter stepped up again and put a courteous arm around his waist. "I'll take care of him, Lucius. He's important to me too, you know."

Draco blinked in surprise but Lucius was already nodding and waving them off. The next thing he knew, Potter was steering him out the door and towards the gate.

"So Dragon," Potter grinned. "Ever been to Muggle London before?"

"Don't call me that," Draco snapped, more out of habit than anything.

"Special nickname?" Potter teased. He raised his arms in surrender as Draco continued to glower. "Okay, okay. Relax. I'd like at least a ten minute head start before you start screaming at me again."

Draco huffed but allowed himself to be shepherded over to the Manor's apparition point. It was only then that he realized what Potter had said. "We're going to Muggle London?" he asked uneasily.

"And what did you think I meant when I said we were going to broaden your horizons?" Potter asked with an amused smirk. "Why, you naughty little minx..."

"Nothing like that!" Draco protested, going scarlet again. "I just didn't expect... do we really have to go to Muggle London?" His sheltered upbringing hadn't exactly encouraged excursions to muggle areas, and the idea of being dead centre in their midst unnerved him.

Potter trailed a comforting hand through his hair, effectively mussing it up. "I'll be right next to you the whole time," he whispered in Draco's ear. "You're safe with me, okay?"

"Okay," Draco murmured, resolutely telling himself that the strange warm feeling in his chest was not comfort. Nevertheless, when Potter to herd him closer, Draco inhaled sharply and gripped the sleeve of his shirt tighter than necessary. Then they were Apparating, right in the heart of London.

****

The movie theatre thing was Draco's favourite. Potter had taken him all over London in a few hours and yes, the streets were thronging with muggles but as it turned out they were happy enough to leave him alone. A few had tried to sell him things - most of them shiny - but Potter had waved them off. Draco pouted for a while, mentally resolving to come back later. Not everything had been spectacular though. Fish and chips for example, were bland and tasteless - no matter what Potter said - and the traffic scared him. Potter stayed by his side dutifully, occasionally putting an arm around his shoulders for support. Draco didn't mind that as much as he should have.

Now they were watching something called a 'movie' on a huge screen. The room they were in was dark and there weren't many people. Potter explained that that was because this movie had been running for a while now so less people were likely to show up. Draco didn't understand that. If he had a choice, he'd come back every day just for the popcorn.

He watched the screen, enraptured. Who would have thought that a story about some Muggle king who stuttered could be so compelling? Potter had tried (unsuccessfully) to give him a little background on the history, but Draco hadn't bothered to listen. He understood royal politics and conspiracies just fine, thank you.

So there he was, munching on popcorn and staring at the screen when Potter shifted subtly next to him. He put his arm around Draco's shoulders and pulled him closer. The blond huffed petulantly but chose to ignore Potter. He was watching the movie, for Merlin's sake.

"Do you have any idea how cute you look right now?" Potter whispered in his ear. "All enchanted and wide eyed. Do you know what it makes me want to do to you?"

Draco inhaled sharply. "Stop it," he whispered, trying to shrug Potter off. "Someone will hear you."

The Gryffindor chuckled. "Adorable," he murmured, his lips brushing teasingly against Draco's ear.

"Potter, stop," he hissed, trying to twist away. There wasn't much room and he didn't dare get up for fear of causing a scene. Muggles were still unfamiliar territory to him.

"Why?" Potter pressed. "Feeling shy? Afraid someone will see us? Maybe hear me tell you about the dirty, depraved things I want to do to you right now?"

Draco's world spun at Potter's whispered words. His breathing hitched and he gripped the arms of his chair. "P-potter," he whispered, as the Gryffindor flicked a tongue out to taste his skin. Draco suppressed a squeak. Potter pressed his advantage ruthlessly. "Incarcerous," he whispered.

Draco gasped as ropes shot out of nowhere around his wrists, tethering him to the chair. In moments, he was completely tied down and... at Potter's mercy. Oh God.

That thought should not be making him hard!

"Now try to keep quiet, yeah?" Potter murmured, making quick work of his buttons. His hand traced Draco's bare chest lazily. "We don't want any of the nice muggles to hear us, do we?"

"Potter, don't!" Draco whimpered. Potter grinned and tweaked his nipple in response, making Draco squeak again.

"And why should I listen to you, hmm?" Potter asked, twisting the little bud with his thumb. His hand travelled down Draco's chest, resting at the hem of his jeans. He undid the zipper easily, palming Draco's raging cock through his boxers. Draco gasped and threw his head back as Potter thumbed his slit expertly. The Gryffindor kept talking, all the while continuing his ruthless ministrations. "You deliberately ignore everything I say. I specifically asked you to wear the black shirt for me, didn't I?" He grinned as Draco panted and squirmed. "Keep it down, love. I really don't want us to be interrupted."

"Potter, please..."

"Call me Harry and perhaps I'll think about indulging you."

Draco gnashed his teeth in frustration. How the hell did Potter get him into these situations? How had he managed seven years in Gryffindor - his tactics had Slytherin written all over them! Potter raked his nails down Draco's chest and the blond just about managed not to thrash about like a fish out of water. He was aching by now and he wasn't sure he could last. "Fine," he gasped. "Fine, Harry. Whatever you want, okay? Just... please..."

"Again," he ordered gruffly.

"Harry," Draco whimpered.

"Lovely," Potter murmured approvingly. "I think you'll be calling me Harry a lot more from now on, don't you Draco?" The blond mumbled resentfully and the Gryffindor pumped his cock harder.

"Yessss!" Draco hissed frantically, jerking against his bonds. "I'll call you Harry. I will, I swear!"

"That's better," Harry grinned, pumping him faster now. "And if I pick out something for you to wear, are you going to disobey me again?"

"No!" Draco whined. "I won't! I won't, Harry!"

"I know, gorgeous," Harry whispered. "Do you want to come now?"

Draco nodded frantically, eyes wide and lips unmoving. Harry bent down to kiss him and Draco groaned around his tongue. Harry indulged himself with a lazy snog as he pumped Draco faster and harder. The blond jerked and mewled as Harry nipped at his lips in warning. "Come for me, Dragon," he commanded softly. Draco jerked his hips and climaxed with a low moan that Harry immediately swallowed with his lips. He kept his mouth against Draco's as the blond panted and shuddered, riding out the last of his orgasm. Harry broke away as soon as he was sure that Draco was coherent again. The blond stared at him with wide eyes, completely in shock. Harry couldn't resist kissing him again.

"That," he smirked "was spectacular." He removed the Incarcerous and cast a quick cleaning charm on the mortified blond, pulling him close again. "I can't wait to do that to you every night."

Draco's fragile hold on his self-control snapped. Every fibre in his being flared with absolute rage and hatred for the smug bastard sitting next to him. He pushed Potter away, righted himself as quickly as he could and stood up abruptly. Potter got up as well, clearly intending to subdue him at once.

Draco couldn't handle it. He drew back and slapped the arse hole straight across the face. The sound echoed in the hall and the few people around them gasped and stared unabashedly. Draco didn't give a damn. With one last sneer at Potter, he stormed out of the building.

****

"Fuck!" Harry swore as he raced out behind the blond. Draco was walking faster now, clearly intending to put as much distance between them as possible. Harry winced as his cheek throbbed. Fuck, the little chit had an arm on him! He hadn't meant to get so carried away. Draco had just looked so damn pretty, and it was dark and... damn it! Now he had a furious fiancé on his hands, running headfirst into god knows what and it was pretty much his fault. He had to stop him before he got himself into any trouble.

"Draco! Damn it, wait up!"

The blond stiffened for a second and then took off running. Harry groaned and gave chase, catching up easily. He grabbed hold of Draco and twisted him around, wrapping his arms around him at once. "It seems all I do these days is chase you down," he quipped dryly.

"Let me go!" Draco snarled, struggling furiously. "You obnoxious, arrogant bastard! Leave me alone!" He managed to throw Harry off and pushed him away, glaring daggers at him. Harry winced as he noted the wetness of his eyes and the slight tremble of his frame. Damn, he really was a bastard. Belatedly, he took a step towards Draco, hoping to offer some form of comfort but the blond was implacable.

"I have a wand this time, Potter!" he snarled, backing away defensively. "I will hex you if you touch me, I mean it!"

"We can't do magic in front of muggles, remember?" Harry said reasonably.

"Didn't stop you, did it?" Draco howled, pushing at him again. Harry grabbed hold of his wrist, keeping a gentle but firm hold on his fuming fiancé.

"I'm sorry," he said, striving for sincerity. Honestly, he was not sorry at all. Draco had looked bloody gorgeous arching in his hands and Harry would do it again in a heartbeat. However, that was not what Draco needed to hear right now. "I got carried away," he attempted . "I did, I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have... well..."

"Molested me in public?" Draco contributed shrilly. "Groped me in a room full of strangers? Utterly mortified me?"

"Well, when you put it like that..."

Draco snarled and stomped away, prompting Harry to chase him down again. He pulled the blond back. "At least let me take you home," he pleaded. It was close to begging, but he supposed he deserved to grovel a bit. Besides, there was no way he could let Draco loose on the general public in his current state of mind.

The blond glowered in silence for a few minutes. "Diagon Alley," he snapped finally. "You take me to Diagon Alley and then we're going our separate ways. This farce is over, do you understand?"

"Can't we just..." Harry began, trailing off at Draco's death glare. "Fine," he relented. "Diagon Alley and I'll leave you alone, okay?"

"Fine," Draco muttered, starting to walk away. Harry joined him and they walked in awkward silence. Draco stalked down the street like an angry cat and Harry despaired. There would be no talking to him like this. Maybe he could call in a few days and smooth things over. But somehow he doubted it.

They reached the Alley's entrance way too soon for Harry.

"You know the drill, Potter," Draco said, stepping aside. Harry sighed and tapped at the three bricks reluctantly, revealing the entrance. Draco walked in without a word and Harry followed.

The place was deserted, save for a few dim lights in the windows. The Leaky Cauldron was still open, no surprise there. Harry shuffled awkwardly, wondering what he could say to make this better. Only one thing seemed to come to mind. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry."

Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. "Harry, I..."

"There they are! That's them!"

Harry whirled around in alarm and drew his wand on instinct, vaguely aware that Draco was doing the same. His eyes widened as a crowd came out of nowhere, virtually descending on them. Draco gasped and grabbed hold of his arm. Harry pulled him closer without thinking.

Thudding footsteps rattled across the alley as people rushed in from every corner, converging at a single point towards them. People with notepads and cameras.

"Fuck," Harry cursed. "Papparazzi."

"How did they..." Draco began.

"I don't know. Word must have gotten out," Harry growled. "We should..."

His voice was immediately drowned out as the crowd surrounded them. For a second, he was overwhelmed by the sheer number of faces around them and then the questions started pouring out.

"Mr Potter! A quote for the Magical Inquirer!"

"What is your relationship with Mr Malfoy?"

"Is it true that you're eloping?"

"Mr Malfoy, over here!"

"Get a picture of them, damn it!"

"Mr Potter, are you aware that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater?" That one was Rita Skeeter. She grinned gleefully at them, wearing robes of the most sickening shade of purple and holding her Quick Notes Quill aloft like a weapon.

"I am not!" Draco snarled, pointing his wand at her. Harry snatched it up at once before he did something he'd regret later. "Don't let her get to you," he muttered. Draco sneered but said nothing. Around them, the questions kept on coming.

"Mr Malfoy, is Harry Potter your mystery fiancé? Do you have anything to say to our readers?"

"Can you give us a quote?"

"Will someone take a damn picture!"

"We have to get out of here," Draco blurted. He was starting to feel suffocated and the press of bodies all around them was making him frantic. Harry was a rock solid presence next to him and Draco latched to him for comfort. Harry nodded firmly. "Start moving," he ordered. "Don't answer any questions. Don't even say 'No comment'. Just keep walking."

"But..."

"I'm right here. I won't leave you, I promise."

Draco nodded and obeyed. The crowd thrummed around him, bellowing questions and clicking pictures. The flashes stung his eyes but he focused himself on Harry's hand on the small of his back, guiding him gently but firmly. They managed to swamp their way over to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Inside. Now," Harry ordered, pushing him through and following at once. He had the good sense to lock the door behind him, but that would only give them a few minutes at most. The reporters were already banging frantically.

"We need to get out of here," Harry announced, as he barged up the stairs to the first floor.

"The Manor?" Draco offered. Harry shook his head. "That's the first place they'll look. My guess is your house is surrounded. My flat too. We'll be stranded for days. Where does Zabini live?"

"Our place or with whoever he's shagging," Draco answered. Harry swore and smacked his forehead. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"What about your friends?" Draco demanded.

"Ginny's out for the night and she doesn't have a Floo anyway. Ron and Hermione are out of the country. That leaves..." He went over a mental list before coming up with something. "Come on!" he ordered, taking Draco's hand. Draco followed him at once, running to keep up. The doors were open again and he could see the crowd pushing its way in. All he could hear was the thundering of footsteps and frantic yelling - it was chaos.

"Hurry!" he shouted.

"Incendio!" Harry shouted at the fireplace. It flared to life instantly. Frantically, he pulled out a bag of Floo powder from his pocket.

"You carry that around with you?" Draco demanded, flabbergasted. The reporters were running up the stairs now. He could hear them...

"I like to be prepared!" Harry belted back. "Now come on! We don't have much time!" He threw the powder in the flames and they turned a fiery green.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" he bellowed, herding Draco towards the fire.

"We're going to make it," Draco cried. "We're actually ... wait. Hogwarts?!"

"Go!" Harry howled, pushing him through.

****

Draco Malfoy was not amused. This was the second time in so many weeks that he had been kidnapped by his barking mad fiancé and it was starting to tell on his health. If he had bags under his eyes after this debacle, Potter was going to suffer.

At least McGonagall had been helpful. Say what you liked about the Hogwarts Headmistress, she was good in a crisis. Save for the odd twitch, she had been absolutely calm during Harry's brief retelling of their situation. She had then proceeded to congratulate them - much to Draco's annoyance - and informed them that as long as there was no trouble or mayhem of any sort (that particular warning had been delivered rather sternly to a sheepish looking Harry while Draco snickered), they were welcome to stay as long as they liked.

He sighed and threw himself on the four poster bed, noting with a grimace that it was clearly meant for two. McGonagall had graciously shifted them into a room at the first possible moment. A single room - clearly meant to be shared by a couple. He hadn't even known such rooms existed in Hogwarts. Personally Draco would have preferred a spot on the floor in the Great Hall to rooming with Potter, but he was in no mood for more scenes. Potter would probably drag him back anyway. He would just have to make the best of it.

All these thoughts of Potter were making him rather cranky. Since the git was not present to rail at - having chosen to drown himself in the shower - Draco had to make do with muttering to himself.

"Hogwarts," he muttered resentfully. "Of all the half arsed, hare brained, ridiculous things to say..."

"I panicked. And I didn't see you come up with any bright ideas."

Draco squeaked in alarm, then groaned and buried his head in a pillow. "One of these days I'm going to manage ten minutes without you sneaking up on me," he announced.

Potter chuckled. "Keep telling yourself that."

Draco turned around, readying himself for another round of bickering. Whatever he was going to say - and he was sure it had been something appropriately witty and scathing - was promptly forgotten as he took in the sight of Potter. The man had emerged from the shower, dripping wet and with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Potter seemed oblivious to his state of undress. He just walked around the room, all tanned skin and lean limbs and toned muscles. Draco's mouth promptly went dry and his mind drew a complete blank. Potter had done some dastardly things in the past but this was just unsportsmanlike behaviour. What was he thinking? Did he plan to walk around like this when they were married? Perhaps he'd discard the towel altogether and... and now he was voluntarily thinking about marriage to Potter. Fantasizing, as it turned out. Draco fought the urge to jump out the nearest window.

Potter's lips moved and belatedly, Draco realized that he must have said something.

"What?" he blurted.

"I said we'll probably be here for a day or two," Potter repeated, rummaging around for the shirt he had discarded. He spotted it and bent down to retrieve it. If he heard Draco's sharp intake of breath, he ignored and blithely transfigured the shirt it into a pair of black pyjama bottoms. "Eventually, they'll get bored and go away. We can transfigure some clothes and stuff in the morning. Oh, and I already owled your father and explained everything."

"Lovely," Draco sneered, smothering himself with the pillow again. "It's a dream come true." He heard Potter sigh and there was a rustle of cloth as the man approached him. Draco stiffened when he felt a hand press down on his arm, pushing him on his back. He yielded reluctantly, glaring distrustfully at the man looming above him. Potter hovered uncertainly and still undressed, damn it to hell. He was wearing the pyjama bottoms, and Draco tried very hard not to let his gaze linger on the broad shoulders and chest inches from him.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this," Potter said, sounding suspiciously sincere.

"I'm sorry too. Sorry you were born," Draco retorted pettily.

Potter rubbed his temples with his free hand and sat down next to him. "Can you stop fighting me for just a minute?"

"No!" Draco snapped, curling up defensively at once. He shook Potter's hand off and glared blearily at him. Mercifully, Potter let him go. "Why not?" he asked reasonably.

"Because you're confusing me!" Draco burst out. "You came out of nowhere and you messed up everything and I don't know why you're doing this! And now we're stuck here and..." He trailed off, unable to finish. Potter didn't respond. He just watched Draco quietly, with that intent, calculating look in his eyes. Draco hugged his legs to his chest, glaring sullenly at the floor. He just wanted Potter gone.

The prat refused to cooperate. He held his hand out. "Come here," he ordered softly. Draco scowled belligerently and stayed put, readying himself for another fight. But Potter didn't seem interested in a row. He just kept his hand extended in silent invitation, looking patient and collected and everything Draco wasn't at the moment.

"Make me," he challenged sulkily.

"I could, but that's not what you need right now. I'd much rather you came to me by choice," Potter replied.

"Shan't," Draco snapped at once, smirking as Potter visibly prayed for patience. But when he turned back, his eyes were soft.

"Just come here, Draco. Please. I won't hurt you, I swear."

Draco had half a mind to argue that claim, but he really was exhausted. All he wanted was for this to be over, and the best way to do that was to just do as Potter asked. The stubborn git was unlikely to give up anyway. So he crawled over to the edge of the bed where Potter was sitting. He sat on his haunches and crossed his arms defensively, keeping as much distance between himself and his fiancé as possible. Potter wasn't having it. He reached for Draco's arm and pulled him closer. Draco followed but stiffened when Potter tried to pull him onto his lap.

"It's okay," the man soothed immediately. "I'm just trying to get you to relax. Come on, you'll be fine."

Draco muttered under his breath but complied. He straddled Potter's lap, barely holding in a gasp as the warmth of skin pervaded the thin fabric of Potter's garment. Potter felt warm and strong and firm beneath him and the faint scent of aftershave wafted around Draco.

This was a very bad idea.

Then Potter wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer. Draco gasped as he was pressed against Potter's chest. Pressed up against the man was torture, couldn't he see that? Potter hummed and started rubbing his tense back. Smooth motions that soothed the taut muscles and despite himself, Draco found himself relaxing into the broad frame. Before he could register it, his arms moving of their own accord and wrapping themselves around Potter's neck.

"That's it," Potter praised, stroking his hair now. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"No," Draco lied. "Rub my back again."

He could feel Potter's chest rumble as he laughed. "It's like owning a cat," he quipped dryly.

Draco flared up at once. "You do not own me..." he began but Potter cut him off, wrapping his arms around him again to cut off any escape attempts.

"You know I didn't mean it that way," he said sternly. "Why does everything have to be a battle with you?"

Draco didn't really know the answer to that. He'd been fighting Potter for so long. Was he expected to just stop? That didn't seem fair. "I can't just give in to everything you say," he finally replied.

"I don't want that," Potter stated, moving to stroke his hair again. "I just want you to stop seeing me as someone you need to protect yourself from. I want you to trust me."

"Why?" Draco demanded. "That's what I want to know. Why this? Why now? What do you want, Potter?"

Potter's hands trailed down his sides and Draco shivered against the touch. They rested on his hips and Potter's fingers flexed against his skin, almost if he was trying to restrain himself. "Look at you, Draco" he whispered huskily. "Is it really so difficult to understand what I want from you?"

Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably at Potter's words. "So that's it then," he said quietly. "You're looking for an easy lay."

Potter snorted. "I'd hardly call it easy." Draco scowled and pulled away. He glared at Potter and the man responded with a cheeky grin and tucked a wayward strand of blond hair behind Draco's ear. "You know if you're going to sit in my lap and pout like that, I really can't be held responsible for the consequences," he warned. Draco huffed and made to get up and immediately found a hand clamped down on his arm. "Stop that," Potter chided. "You're being ridiculous. If all I wanted from you was a quick shag, don't you think I'd have done things a little differently? In case you haven't noticed, I am trying court you."

"And doing a fine job of it," Draco muttered resentfully. "You keep pushing me around."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't stand a chance with you," Potter argued. "You'd destroy me."

Draco snickered at that happy thought and Potter rolled his eyes. "Prat," he scolded, pushing the blond back against his chest. Draco curled up obediently. He felt a bit better... less murderous, at any rate. All this talking was making him sleepy. And Potter was so comfortable. "Too tired right now," he yawned. "I'll... destroy you in the morning."

"You probably will," Potter muttered, as he shifted. Draco groaned in complaint as he felt himself being hauled up and laid down on the bed. He tumbled in the sheets, grumbling as Potter's warmth retreated. "Stay," Draco whined. It was cold. He reached out and pulled at his hand, trying to tug him down.

"And have you stab me the second you're thinking coherently again?" Potter asked dryly. "I don't think so. I'll transfigure a couch." He gently detached himself from Draco who scowled resentfully at him. Potter grinned and bent down, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "Good night, beautiful."

Draco listened, half asleep as Harry's footsteps faded away. He curled into the blankets and fell into slumber, trying to ignore the small part of him that wished Harry had stayed anyway.

****

Lucius smirked as he glanced through Potter's hurried scrawl. He scribbled back a note for the owl and watched it fly off, before turning away from the window. A disapproving set of brown eyes stopped him in his tracks.

"What?" Lucius asked.

"What did you do?" Andromeda asked sternly.

"Why my dear, I have no idea what you mean," Lucius protested. "I just received a note from Potter. They were regrettably waylaid by some rogue reporters and decided to take an impromptu trip to Hogwarts."

"I see," Andromeda drawled. "Interesting how those reporters knew exactly where to find them, isn't it?"

"A strange occurrence, indeed."

"Very strange. It's almost as if someone tipped them off. Someone who knew where Draco would be this evening."

Lucius raised an eyebrow. "Do you know something I don't, Andromeda?"

"I'm not sure, Lucius. What I do know is that tomorrow there will be an announcement in the papers about Draco's engagement to Harry. Everyone will know which will naturally make this a formal engagement, rather than a standard courtship. And of course there's that little matter of them being stranded together with only each other for company. That's rather convenient. Oh, and I also happen to know that the Prophet descended on Diagon Alley within minutes of an owl that you sent to one Rita Skeeter."

Lucius chuckled. "I've always admired your admirable sense of logic, Andromeda. Now don't be like that," he chuckled as she glared at him. "I merely... arranged for Draco to spend some extended time with his fiancé. Surely, that doesn't classify as evil."

"I just hope you know what you're doing," she replied. "Love can't be orchestrated."

"But marriages can," Lucius smirked. "Oh now, calm down. Love is a possibility. Marriages are certain. I am simply trying to assure the best for Draco's future."

"Well you know best, I'm sure," she replied stiffly. "But if this blows up in your face - which it will, mind you - I reserve the right to say I told you so."

"As if you wouldn't anyway," Lucius replied, allowing a grin to break out on his visage. Andromeda huffed indignantly and marched back to her room. Lucius chuckled fondly as he watched her stomp off. Belatedly, he decided to send out an owl out to Ferguson's Flowers.

A dozen roses were hardly going to get him back in her good graces. But it was definitely a start.

****

Draco woke up to sunlight streaming in his room. He groaned and buried himself under the blankets. Seriously, the next time he and Potter stayed at Hogwarts, they were rooming in the dungeons. Stupid sunlight ruining his sleep and... suddenly, the direction his sleep addled thoughts had taken caught up with him and Draco sat up abruptly.

This growing tendency of his could not be a good thing. Thinking about Harry in any manner that implied that this situation was permanent was stupid and reckless. Not to mention mad. He couldn't possibly imagine spending his life with him. Not after spending a good decade or so actively hating the man's guts.

Except Harry seemed to think so. Then again, Harry was insane. Draco huffed irritably - yet another unfortunate side effect to his proximity to the Gryffindor Git. Just what was he thinking anyway? You couldn't just up and go for whatever the hell you wanted just because! That was not how things worked. Oh, and Harry has always been so concerned about the proper order of things, he found himself thinking sarcastically. And now he was referring to him as Harry inside his head.

Well, wasn't that nice.

Draco threw the blankets off and slipped off to the shower. He glanced at the couch that had most certainly not been there the night before, expecting to see Potter sprawled across and snoring.

He wasn't there. A blanket was strewn across, along with the pyjamas. Draco blushed unexpectedly. Potter had probably changed while he was still sleeping. The blond bit his lip. The thought of being in the same room as an apparently naked Harry Potter was not one he needed to explore right now.

Groaning and cursing to oblivion and back, Draco slipped in for a shower. He suspected that if Potter persisted in walking around with his clothes off, he was going to be taking a lot more showers.

****

Draco spent a while, exploring the castle. There was a fond nostalgia there, despite being tempered with images of the War. The students regarded him curiously, but none had dared to approach him so far. He amused himself with glaring at a few Hufflepuffs (just like old times) before sauntering out to the Quidditch Pitch.

Draco grinned as the familiar metal hoops glinted in the morning sun, a good thirty feet from the ground. He shielded his eyes and watched with interest as a blur flew by on a broom. A match was in progress. No, not a match - else the whole school would be out here. Probably practice then.

Draco jogged down to the pitch, hoping to catch Slytherin in action again. He hovered by the empty stands, watching as the players swoop across open sky, tossing the Quaffle around and revising team tactics and strategies. Gryffindors probably, considering the ruckus they were making. The Slytherins had always been a lot more reserved - choosing to use only hand signals and gestures for communication during the game.

Suddenly the players were swooping to the ground. One of them - probably the Seeker, Draco mused noting the boy's wiry build - landed next to him. "Did you see that?" he asked Draco excitedly. "I caught it! That's the first time I ever caught it!" He held up the Snitch proudly and Draco found himself somewhat amused by the child's infectious enthusiasm.

"Very impressive," he offered.

"I know, right?" he babbled. "Billy Johnson said I don't stand a chance against Slytherin but I'll show him! He doesn't know I'm practicing with the ruddy Cannons Seeker, does he? I can't wait to see his face when I..."

"What?" Draco blurted. His questions were immediately answered as someone swooped down almost next to him. Potter was riding a rather ancient Cleansweep Seven, his hair swept back and his cheeks red from exertion. And he was grinning so widely his face would probably split.

"Jack! Mate, you caught it. Told you it would work, didn't I?"

"It worked just like you said, Harry!" Jack exclaimed excitedly, thrusting the Snitch in Potter's face now. "I kept my..."

"Legs close to your body to balance your weight," Harry finished. "Remember to keep your elbows tucked in or you might catch a Bludger. And..."

Draco rolled his eyes and cleared his throat meaningfully. Harry whipped around to face him and grinned sheepishly. "I was just helping out the old team," he explained awkwardly as the blond raised an eyebrow. "Go Gryffindors and all." Jack whooped and high-fived him. Harry grinned at him and shrugged at Draco in a what-can-you-do manner.

Draco's lips twitched. "Couldn't last one day without the fan club, Potter?" he drawled. "You had to go and build a new one?"

Harry chuckled. "Well, someone has to make sure they're prepared for the big game," he replied. "As I recall, Slytherins are cheaters."

"As I recall, Gryffindors were just plain lucky."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Do I detect the hint of a challenge, Malfoy? I could still grind you into the dust."

Before Draco could retort, Jack cut in. "Malfoy?" he blurted, gawking at Draco. "Are you... you're not Draco Malfoy, are you?"

"I... am?" Draco responded doubtfully. He hadn't expected anyone to know him by name here. Potter yes, he was practically a celebrity but not him, surely.

Jack seemed to disagree. His brown eyes widened to inexplicable proportions. "No way!" he babbled. "No ruddy way! Hey guys!" he bellowed at his teammates. Six pairs of eyes turned to regard them curiously. "Guys, you're not going to believe this! It's Draco Malfoy!"

"No!"

"Seriously?"

"The Draco Malfoy?"

Draco immediately found himself in a sea of wide eyed Gryffindors. They gaped at him with dropped jaws and huge eyes, chattering excitedly among themselves. Draco stared at Harry who looked rather lost as well.

"Can you believe it?" one of the Chasers babbled excitedly. "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in the same day?" The rest of the team responded with eager chatter and Draco and Harry exchanged confused glances.

"Am I... missing something?" Harry cut in finally.

Jack was the one who cleared thing up. "You two are legendary!" he explained eagerly. "Like the ultimate rivals!"

"We've heard all the stories about your best games," a Beater broke in. "Like that time when you and Malfoy were racing for the Snitch and you broke your arm catching it!"

Harry grinned, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Well, we were kind of competitive back then..."

"Kind of competitive?" Jack echoed indignantly. "You were madmen! It was awesome! Draco, did you really set Harry's broom on fire that one time?"

"He was cheating," Draco supplied, grinning unapologetically as Harry scowled.

"As if you never cheated," Harry belted indignantly. "What about when you did that loopy, swervy thing and knocked me off my broom? You nearly took off my head!"

"You used the Malfoy Manoeuvre on Harry Potter?" Jack gasped.

"It has a name?" Harry sputtered indignantly.

"Well, what do you know?" Draco smirked. "They named a move after me. Hey Potter, how many Quidditch moves do you have named after you?"

Harry scowled. "It's not a real thing!" he protested.

"Is too," Draco grinned. "Hey Jack, has anyone else used the Malfoy Manoeuvre lately?"

"Only every Slytherin Seeker," Jack replied, rolling his eyes. "It's like their signature move."

Draco preened unabashedly. "Well, it seems I've got a fan following," he preened, grinning at a glaring Harry over his shoulder. "And I didn't even need to join a big, fancy National League to do it."

"It's not a real thing!" Harry snapped, leaning forward aggressively.

"It is so a real thing!" Draco retorted, stepping closer and glaring the prat down. "You're just jealous that you don't have a move named after you!"

"Neither do you! It's not a real thing!"

"You know what's a real thing, Potter? My fist!"

They were barging into each other now and their chests were practically touching. Draco glared into Potter's flashing green eyes, his mouth tight and his body thrumming with tension. Around them, the Gryffindors stood transfixed.

"They're going to fight," the Chaser whispered excitedly. "We're gonna see Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy fight! Oh my god, this is officially the best day of my life!"

Harry stepped back at once and raised his hands. "No one is going to fight," he declared. "We don't have anything to prove. And besides, it wouldn't be fair anyway so let's just drop it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco demanded at once.

Harry shrugged apologetically. "Well, let's face it Draco. I'm a professional Quidditch Player and you're... well, not. We were probably in the same league at some point but I could flatten you now. Hell, I'd probably catch the Snitch before you were off the ground."

There was an immediate bout of ooohs from the assembled Gryffindors and Draco bristled. "You want to put your money where your mouth is, Potter?" he hissed.

Harry gave him a condescending grin that made his blood boil. "Well, if you insist on public humiliation who am I to deny you?"

"Fine!" Draco spat. "Right here. Right now. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin."

"Can we play too?" one of the Gryffindors asked imploringly. "You'll need a team!"

"Of course," Harry replied. "Gryffindors forever, mate!" He turned to give Draco a teasing smirk. "I don't suppose you'll have a team in the next ten minutes, will you?"

"Jack!" Draco snapped, his eyes blazing as he glared at Potter. "Round up the Slytherin team. Tell them Draco Malfoy demands their presence on the pitch in five minutes."

"Yes sir!" Jack squeaked, taking off like a Firebolt. Draco didn't notice, he was too busy locked in a staring contest with Potter. "I'm going to wipe this pitch with you," he declared.

"May the best man win," Harry smirked.

"Oh don't worry," Draco purred. "I will."

****

Jack had outdone himself. Not only had he procured the Slytherin team in five minutes flat, but he had wrangled a sizeable audience as well. The crowd was milling about as eager Gryffindors and Slytherins crowded the pitch, hoping for a glance of the famous Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in action. Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were watching with mild interest as well. Chants filled the air as Slytherins and Gryffindors rooted for their teams and Harry grinned as he noticed not a few red banners fluttering around.

It was just like old times. And he couldn't wait to take Malfoy on again.

"Alright team," he announced, looking around at his eager players. "We're changing the rules a bit to accommodate everyone. So, we'll have two Seekers for the match. Jack, you ready? Good. The rest of you - just do what you've been doing at practice. Keep an eye out for Bludgers. Beaters, we're counting on you. And remember - they're Slytherins, so stay on your toes. Everyone got that?"

He grinned at the resounding chorus of whoops and cheers. "Go Gryffindors," Harry yelled. "Now let's go out there and give them hell!"

The team howled in unison and took off. Harry grinned and turned to shoot Draco a grin. The blond was at the other end of the pitch, giving the Slytherins his own pep talk. He caught Harry's eye and the Gryffindor gave him a wink. Draco responded by slashing his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture.

Harry laughed.

Just like old times.

****

"And remember, they're Gryffindors," Draco finished. "Clearly, you possess the advantage of superior intellect."

The assembled team snickered and Draco nodded, satisfied. "Any questions?"

"Are we allowed to set brooms on fire?" a petite blonde girl asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "As team captain and honorary Seeker, I have to say no. That would be cheating and completely against the rules," he drawled. "By the way, what's the Slytherin motto again?"

"It's not cheating if you don't get caught!" the team chorused. Draco grinned at the girl. "Any more questions, Chaser?"

"No sir," she smirked.

"Right then, let's get out there and show those Gryffindors how to play Quidditch. Make me proud. Or else."

They marched off like a battle formation. Across the field, Draco caught Potter's intent eye. He smirked and made a slashing gesture against his throat. Potter laughed and gave him a thumbs-up.

Draco smiled and summoned his broom.

Just like old times.

****

"Just couldn't let it go, could you?" Madame Hooch asked dryly as both teams jogged out to the pitch. "I suppose it's too much to ask for a good, clean game?"

"No Ma'am. We'll play nice," Harry said. Draco merely smirked, choosing not to commit himself.

"Right," the witch drawled, sounding utterly unconvinced. "Team Captains, shake hands. And let's try to keep everyone out of the Hospital Wing, shall we?"

Harry stepped up and put out his hand. Draco took it, wrapping his long fingers around Harry's in a light grip. "Good luck, Potter," he drawled. "You'll need it."

Harry smirked and squeezed lightly. "When I win, I expect a prize. A kiss from my fiancé."

Draco flushed but raised his chin defiantly. "i>If you win I'll consider it."

"Scared, Malfoy?"

"You wish, Potter."

"Captains, mount your brooms!"

Harry mounted his broom and kicked off as the whistle sounded. Draco was right beside him, grey eyes glinting with challenge and silently promising him a hell of a fight before this was over. Those pretty, pouty lips smirked and then Draco swooped gracefully, scouring for the Snitch.

Harry grinned and took off behind him.

It was on.

****

Two hours later, they were back in their room.Harry was sulking with his leg in a cast and Draco was thumbing through a novel, his lips pressed together firmly as he tried not to laugh.

"Say it," Harry growled.

"Say what?" Draco asked innocently.

"You know exactly what," Harry snapped. "So say it and get it over with."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Draco claimed, batting his lashes. "Unless you're referring to your abject humiliation on the Quidditch pitch."

"Prat," Harry muttered.

"Oh and since you brought it up - we caught the Snitch, we caught the Snitch,"Draco sing-songed aggravatingly.

Harry stood up indignantly and winced as his foot throbbed. He hobbled over to where Draco was seated and crossed his arms,glaring at the grinning blond. "You did not catch the Snitch," he gritted out. "Billy Johnson caught the Snitch."

"Oh that's right. And do refresh my memory, what was that astounding formation he pulled when he caught it? You know - the one that made you crash into a goal post and crumple to the ground in a heap of abject failure?"

Harry mumbled resentfully and Draco snickered."What was that? I don't think I heard you."

"The Malfoy Manoeuvre, okay?!"

Draco cackled gleefully and Harry huffed,intending to stomp off. He stopped as he felt a hand on his, pulling him back."Stop being a sore loser," Draco chided. "And lie down, you idiot. You're going to twist your ankle."

"You're teasing me," Harry pouted sullenly.

"Boo hoo, poor Potter," Draco drawled, pushing him back against the pillows. "You're just mad that you're not getting your kiss."

"But I'm wounded!" Harry protested.

"Yes well, you should have thought about that before you smashed into a goalpost at breakneck speed," Draco informed him."Honestly Potter, have you no sense of personal safety?"

Harry grinned cheekily. "Why? Were you worried about me?"

"Hardly," Draco sniffed. "Save for the inconvenience of having to nurse you back to health, now that you're incapacitated."

"I like it," Harry announced, settling back against the pillows and letting Draco fuss about for a while. "Maybe I'll crash into things more often."

"Do it and I'll never kiss you again!" Draco threatened, inexplicably angry at the suggestion. He told himself that Potter's tendency of taking foolish risks was annoying him. That was all. It certainly wasn't concern. And that flash of pure panic he had experienced when Harry had collided into the post and careened to the ground was a fluke. A fluke! He flushed as Harry fixed him with a curious look and promptly looked away, fiddling with the pillows again.

"You don't kiss me anyway," the prat announced sulkily.

"And I'm not going to," Draco declared. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Read then. Just stop bothering me."

"Fine, fine. Can you pass me that novel you were reading? It's right there."

Draco rolled his eyes and reached over Potter to fetch the novel. Immediately, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. Draco groaned as he was flipped over. He really should have seen that one coming. He landed on the bed with Potter looming above him, smirking. "And that, Malfoy is a little something I call The Potter Ploy," he said, before leaning down and crushing his mouth against the blond's.