Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warnings: Slash

Author's Notes: Happy (early) birthday SuishouTenshi!

XoX

A Match Made in Heaven (or Possibly the Other Place)

When Harry Potter came back for his seventh and final year at Hogwarts he was neither stunningly attractive or mind bendingly gorgeous. In fact, aside from a new pair of glasses – his old ones had been broken so badly neither tape nor any amount of spells could fix them – he looked quiet the same.

Still, he had girls and boys alike throwing themselves at him both literally and figuratively, though – try as he might – he couldn't quite figure out why.

"Has all of Hogwarts gone mad?" he asked a snickering Hermione – although really, snickering was more of a Malfoy thing – after dodging a crowd of over-eager Hufflepuffs.

"It's not your fault, Harry," she explained. "Someone told the Daily Prophet how much money your parents left you."

Harry blinked. "And…?"

"And so the majority of the Hogwarts population is out to snag you. Generally, nobody wanted to be around you before as you're a target of the most powerful Dark wizard currently alive and all that, but now your projected life expectancy is seen as a good thing. Don't be surprised if people start asking for your hand in marriage soon."

"Oh," Harry said.

A week later Harry still hadn't gotten everyone figured out. Having lived without money for so long, he couldn't see why everybody was so desperate to win him over. Sure, he knew people like the Dursley's would do anything to get their hands on the fortune his parents had left him, but the people chasing – or courting – him had seemed like nice, respectable folk until a week ago. Except the Slytherins. The Slytherins had always been money grubbers as far as he was concerned.

"Harry," Ron said one day while the two lay out by the lake, enjoying the last of the summer's sun. "You're not going to go after Hermione, are you?"

Harry smiled. "Of course not, she's one of my best friends! Besides, I figure anyone who goes out with me now will be after my money – I'm not going to date anyone at all until this blows over."

"Oh," said Ron. "So no change from the status quo?"

XoX

If there was one thing that could be said about Blaise Zabini, it was that he was excellent at hiding.

Draco Malfoy had been trying to get him – alone – for the past month. The other boy had been able to elude him so far by staying in after classes, leaving early, skipping meals, talking with teachers in the hallways and acquiring various lovers in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff who would let him stay overnight. While Blaise knew he was just delaying the inevitable confrontation the two of them would have, he was trying his damndest to live as long as he could.

Draco was not amused.

It had only taken him three days to find out who had sent Potter's bank statement to The Daily Prophet – how Blaise had gotten his hands on it was still a mystery – and Draco was on the warpath.

People were after Potter, his property. "Blaise," Draco said coolly as he approached the other boy. "I've been looking for you."

Blaise froze and turned. "Draco! Imagine meeting you in such a nice, public place," Blaise said as calmly as he could. "Look at all the people walking by."

The three fourth year Slytherins on their way from the dungeons to the library glanced curiously at the two teenagers and kept going.

"Blaise, I know you're the one who sent in that blasted article," Draco said, shooting a glare at him. "Care to explain?"

"Draco, friend, colleague, handsomest Slytherin in the history of Slythindom – why on Earth would you think I sent in that horribly tacky article about Potter being loaded?"

Calmly, Draco reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a precisely folded piece of newspaper. Carefully unfurling it, he shoved the scrap in Blaise's face. "Read it Zabini."

"Err… Source: Blaise Zabini, 7th year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Exactly. Now Blaise, why would they quote you as being the source of this… article if it weren't true?"

"Err…" said Blaise. "My enemies wanted revenge?"

Draco snorted. "Few people outside of Slytherin know you're gender, Blaise. You don't have enemies – you don't even have rivals."

Blaise smiled as winsomely as he could. "With friends like you, who needs enemies?"

"That's it, Zabini! I don't know what you thought you were doing when you sent The Prophet Potter's bank statement, but you are D-E-A-D!" Draco roared, launching himself at the other boy.

"Malfoy?"

Draco froze, hand clenched into a fist and hovering above Blaise's head. Turning, he met Harry Potter's clear green eyes and scowled as hard s he could to keep from melting.

"Potter, what the hell are you doing in the Slytherin dungeons?" Draco snapped. Just because he had a tiny crush did not mean he'd act like a fool around the other boy.

"I'm… umm… Have you seen Professor Snape? We have a… remedial potions lesson."

Draco scowled. He did not like the suggestive pause Harry innocently injected into his sentence. He would have to watch Snape. "No, go back to your tower where you belong. Blaise and I have some unfinished business to attend to."

Potter's eye widened comically as he glanced between the two boys and, blushing furiously, almostbutnotquite ran in the direction he'd come from.

XoX

Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting on Harry's bed, curtains firmly sealed trying to hide from the Gryffindors who had decided that, as his House mates, they had a right to Harry's body, heart, and money.

"Harry," Hermione said, tentatively laying a hand on his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Harry asked, glancing worriedly at the hand Hermione had lain on his arm. "Oh nothing – my friends and co-workers all turned out to be gold diggers, my days are spent locked in my room, and I think I interrupted Malfoy and Zabini in some sort of lewd sex act this morning."

"Zabini!" Ron exclaimed. "I thought Malfoy was gay?"

"Zabini!" Hermione exclaimed. "I thought Malfoy was straight?"

The three teenagers sat in silence for a moment.

"I think he's a boy," Hermione finally said.

"No – girl," said Ron.

"Sorry Ron, I'm with Hermione on this one – Malfoy fills too many stereotypes to be straight. Zabini is a boy."

"Oh you're one to talk, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "Kissing one girl and than – nothing!"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Do you want Harry to go off and date those money grubbers?"

Hermione blushed. "I wasn't saying he should go out and make up for lost time – the only way he could be sure someone was really interested in him was if they were filthy rich too – I was just saying that…" Hermione trailed off and looked at Harry questioningly. "Harry?"

"I just have to find someone who's rich like me!" he cried. "Hermione, you're brilliant! If I can find someone as rich as me than I'm set!"

"Harry, do you even want a relationship?" Hermione asked. "I wasn't implying that it would be a good idea to go searching for – irk!" Her rant was cut short as Harry flung his arms around her neck.

"Thanks Herm!"

After recovering, Hermione ripped open the curtains surrounding Harry's bed and yelled, "Harry James Potter, if you ever call me that foul name again I'll rip you throat out!"

Laughing, Harry closed the door to the dorm behind him.

XoX

Draco had a problem. Not only had Zabini laughed his arse off when he realized that Potter probably thought the two of them were together, but he'd also managed to escape while Draco was swearing and kicking things.

Granted, Draco probably should have been kicking Zabini instead of scuffing his shoes on the dungeon walls.

Currently, Draco was sulking through the halls of Hogwarts, hands in his pockets, ruining the line of his pants.

"Draco!" a voice behind him cried in a painfully cheerful tone. "Darling, wait up!"

Draco tried to up his pace.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!"

Draco stopped, sighed and turned to face his fate. "Hello Pansy, how can I help you?"

"Darling! I've been looking for you everywhere! Do you know what people are saying? They're saying you're going out with Blaise!" Pansy was on a first name basis with almost every Slytherin male – whether or not they wanted her to be.

"What!" Draco exclaimed, forgoing question marks entirely.

"I was talking to Mallory in Hufflepuff – she's a Pureblood, despite your scoffing – and she said that Francine in Ravenclaw said that Theresa in Slytherin said that Sarah in Hufflepuff said that Millicent said she saw you jump on Blaise in the hallway and that Potter arriving is the only thing that stopped you from doing the dirty right there! Well I couldn't stand for that, could I?" Draco assumed the question was rhetorical. "So I said, 'Don't be ridiculous! Draco's as straight as a very straight thing!' and she just gave me this look! I won't be talking to her anytime soon, I can tell you… Draco? Draco! Are you listening to me?"

Draco walked away as fast as he could without it being painfully obvious that he was trying to get away from Pansy. How could anyone think he'd fall for Blaise? Potter was much better. And obviously, he hated Blaise for making everyone take up interest in someone who was so obviously his.

XoX

That night in the Great Hall Potter got his first proposal. Terry Boot got down on one knee with a ring and a rose and asked Harry to marry him. Right there. Where everyone could see.

And than Potter blushed.

Draco's nails dug into the palms of his hands, drawing blood. What in the nine Hells was Boot trying to pull? There was no way on Earth that Potter would say 'yes' to the prat!

Harry cleared his throat. All eye in the Hall where trained on he and his would-be betrothed.

"No."

Draco let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. So did almost every other student in the Hall, eyes hardening. Boot had upped the stakes – the game was on.

XoX

Harry was having a very bad week. First, Boot had proposed, which prompted an onslaught of similar displays from ever house in the school, and he'd just found out that there were only six students in the school whose family's monetary value was close to his – the Parkinsons, the Bones', the Crabbes, the Goyles, the Macmillans and the Malfoys. He also knew that talking to Dumbledore about how ridiculously easy it was to get into the school records would be a good idea.

As for his relationship prospects… Well, Pansy was ugly and a girl, which vetoed that option. Susan was sweet, but still very feminine. Crabbe and Goyle together amounted to about the same amount of brains as an ant – eat, follow orders, and lift things ten times your own weight. Ernie, while gay, had had a bizarre grudge against Harry ever since second year and was already going out with Justin. And Malfoy was Malfoy, attractive, smart, witty, but full of hatred directed at Harry.

And apparently involved in some sort of sadomasochistic relationship with Blaise Zabini.

The thought gave his stomach funny feelings he wasn't going to analyze.

XoX

Draco had decided to forego his revenge of Blaise – or at least lull him into a false sense of security before pouncing – and start knocking off all those insolent enough to try and touch what was his.

"Boot!" Draco called, jogging after the other boy. "Boot! Hold up!"

Terry Boot slowed and turned to face Draco with a smile. "Hello," he said pleasantly. "What can I help you with?"

"You," Draco spat, "can stay the fuck away from Potter."

Terry looked shocked.

"Do you have no pride, man? Stooping to kiss Potter's arse just because he has a couple million Galleons in Gringotts?" Draco sincerely hoped that Boot was buying the crap he was spouting. "Honestly, the prat's not even attractive."

Boot stared at him with wide eyes. "But… he's rich."

"A lot of people are rich, Boot. Are you even queer? If you want to be a gold digger than go chase down Pansy – her family's rich too."

"But… isn't Pansy your girl?" Boot asked. Really, for a Ravenclaw he wasn't all that bright.

"No. Hell no. Go shag her."

And Boot tottered off.

Great, Draco thought, one down and hundreds more to go.

XoX

Harry had just about resigned himself to a lonely year spent refusing proposals when he had an epiphany. He'd pay someone to date him. How perfect! Granted, it wouldn't be a real relationship, but at least the gold diggers chasing after him would bugger off.

"Hermione!" Harry cried, rushing down the stone steps of Gryffindor Tower to tell her his brilliant idea. "Hermione, I've thought of a solution!"

And so saying, Harry Potter tried and fell down the stairs, knocking himself unconscious in the process.

XoX

After making a shallow incision in his wrist during potions and complaining that the blood was ruining his robes Draco was allowed into the Infirmary and was able to see Harry.

Sure, Madame Pomfrey was bound to ask him all sorts of uncomfortable questions about his psychological health, but it was a small price to pas to get to lay in the bed next to Harry's – not that he'd admit that to anyone.

He'd tried to get in earlier, worried after hearing tales of Harry's tumble down the stairs, only to find that students who weren't known friends – known close friends – of Harry's had been banned from the hospital wing on pain of detention with Filch or Snape. Both if you were unlucky.

So, of course, the only way to check up on Harry was to slit his wrist.

"So what are you here for?" he asked Potter after Madame Pomfrey cooed over him and stuffed him into a starchy pair of standard issues, grey pajamas.

"I fell down the stairs and knocked myself out," Potter grumbled. "You?"

"Slit my wrists in potions class."

"Oh. Isn't that the kind of thing you do over a bathroom sink while alone with angst filled music on?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. The knife slipped."

"And hit the veins in your wrist?"

"Yes." Draco crossed his arms and wondered if sending himself to the hospital wing had really been such a good idea.

"I wonder why none of my suitors and… suitoresses have thought of injuring themselves to get in here?" Harry lent back against the metal frame of his bed, exposing his unmarred, pale throat.

Draco gulped. "They have. Madame Pomfrey is cutting them off at the door and healing their bruises and cuts out there. No one's tried breaking a bone to get in yet."

"Oh," Harry said. "Bugger."

"What? Don't tell me you actually like any of those gold diggers?" Draco asked incredulously. "They're in it for the money, Potter. None of them like you for who you are."

"You think I don't know that Malfoy? Besides, some of them aren't bad to look at. I might go out with one." Harry asserted, sounding like he was trying to convince himself rather than Draco.

Draco, of course, didn't catch this.

"Oh come on, Potter!"

"What?" Harry asked, round green eyes in ugly glasses focusing in on Draco's outraged face.

"You – you can't go out with someone you don't like!" Draco exclaimed, privately adding that even if Harry liked whoever he was thinking of he still couldn't go out with anyone but Draco.

"And who says I don't like them?" Harry shot back, raising his chin just a bit.

"I… They're gold diggers!"

"What, are you jealous, Malfoy?" Harry scoffed.

There was silence.

"You… Malfoy, you're joking, right?"

Draco looked down at his hands. This wasn't at all how he'd pictured Harry finding out about his… thing.

"Oh come on!" Harry exclaimed. "Even you can't be that pathetic!"

Draco's head shot up.

Harry snorted and opened his mouth to say more, only to find his airway blocked by a sudden onslaught of tongue. When Draco drew back, chest heaving and eyes flashing, Harry blinked. "Oh," he said. "So you weren't jealous of the attention, than?"

"No," Draco said. "So you weren't laughing at me for having a crush on you?"

"No," Harry replied. "Would you like to be my boyfriend?"

"Yes, but you have to keep away from all those money grubbers."

"Alright," Harry agreed with a small smile. "Will you do me a favor?"

"What?" Draco was sure he was blushing. Here he was, sitting on an infirmary bed with Harry Potter after having kissed him – with tongue – and agreeing to be his boyfriend.

"Kiss me again?"

Draco smiled and intertwined his fingers with Harry's, maybe the situation wasn't so mortifying after all. "You don't even have to ask."

fin