Author's Notes:

Wow. I can't believe it. This is the final chapter. I've finished my first WIP! I'm sad that it's the end but I'm also exited because now I can start a new story.

There are many people that I'd like to thank:

Sanguiyn, my beta/lifesaver, for putting up with my confused ramblings on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. Cream pie fights forever! ;-)

C Dumbledore, Sevfan, Lady Aubrey, Booklady and Calanthe, the Hex Files team, for all the extra help they contributed in checking my story before validating it on their wonderful site

Phoenix GhostPG, my first fanfiction mentor, for all the useful advice and encouragement. Also for the cookies and 10 ratings ;-) …though I don't know where she's gone…:-(

moi for the motivation that helped me beat my writer's block and procrastination…I don't know where you've gone either…:-(

Vittani, another hero of mine, for the last minute help

thrnbrooke for reviewing every chapter (sometimes more than once)

AddictedtoBuffy for being a faithful reviewer until the very end

lissagal99 for being reviewer number 200 (my ultimate goal) on forever fandom

Cody, littlemisssunshine, Vittani and Lil Miss Shadow.5 for their supportive emails

Moirieke/Marieke for giving me cupcakes when I needed them the most

SlytherinSerenityx, a fellow newbie in the fandom, for her butt kicking and just plain awesomeness

And everybody else who reviewed or showed an interest in my story.

Cupcakes for you all!

:-) Lucy

Disclaimer:

Loosely based on '10 Things I hate about you', which was based on Shakespeare's 'Taming of the Shrew'.

Gilmore Girls quote alert in this chapter too. ;-)

The poem at the start is from '10 Things I Hate About You'. I just had to alter it slightly to fit our Harry and Draco.

One of the ending scenes is also taken from the movie. Kichino Sarafu requested the return of some humour. I hope that it makes you laugh again!

You all know that I don't own the Harry Potter characters (JKR does). But if I did, something like this would happen to them…

---

I hate the way you talk to me

And the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you ride your broom

I hate it when you glare.

I hate your big dumb Malfoy smirk

And the way you're constantly on my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick

It even makes me rhyme.

I hate the way you're always wrong

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh;

Even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around

And the fact that I don't pass you in the halls,

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you;

Not even close;

Not even a little bit;

Not even at all.

-- 10 Things I Hate About You

Pansy was sitting near the edge of the forest on a broken tree stump that was furred with moss. The silence was absolute: solid, it lay like a suffocating coat over her skin, pressing down against her lips and eyelids.

She rubbed her bare forearms and felt the fine hairs prickle under her fingertips. Their two hours were up. Carefully, brushing her fingers against the mossy dead wood, she stood up and looked through the gap in the trees one last time.

A small sound of relief escaped from her mouth. They were making their way towards her.

The pale blur of Draco's hair and the faint outlines of Blaise and Potter burned themselves against the thick darkness. As they came closer, Pansy could see that Potter was carrying Draco and Blaise was stumbling in their wake.

Draco's arm reached up, lazy and proprietorial, and wound around Potter's neck like a noose. Then Potter dipped his head, apparently to check on Draco, and their faces blurred into one.

"Draco!" Pansy cried, when they emerged from the forest. "Is he all right?"

"He's fine, but we have to get him to the hospital wing." Potter replied briskly, sidestepping Pansy and walking with his eyes sternly fixed on the castle. Pansy and Blaise had to run to catch up.

"What are we going to tell Madam Pomfrey? He's going to be in so much trouble." Pansy turned to Blaise and grabbed hold of his hand.

"No, he's not," Blaise assured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. "We'll just tell her that we found him on the Quidditch Pitch…in the changing rooms. That he hit his head in the shower and nobody found him for two days."

"That sounds believable enough," Pansy agreed.

Potter looked back over his shoulder, still maintaining his fast pace. "You're quick with the lies, aren't you, Zabini," he called.

"We'll get detention if we tell the truth. Not just Draco, but us as well. We're not supposed to go into the forest," Blaise exhorted him, slightly panting with the effort to keep up. His drunken night and the two hours in the forest were beginning to take their toll.

"Fine. Whatever." Potter didn't argue any further, distracted when Draco let out a soft groan in his sleep.

The journey to the hospital wing didn't take long, with Potter leading the way. Thankfully they didn't run into anyone in the halls as everyone was still at breakfast or even still in bed. Draco seemed unconscious for most of the time, though occasionally his eyes would flutter open and stare at Potter momentarily before closing again.

The hospital wing was empty when they arrived, but the sudden banging of the door and the scurrying squeak of rubber soles on the plastic-tiled floor alerted Madame Pomfrey. She came dashing out of her office with her wand at the ready. "Good gracious! What happened?"

"He slipped in the showers," Blaise answered her. He told Madame Pomfrey the rest of his made-up story while Harry propped Draco up on the pillows of the nearest bed.

"That explains the concussion, but what about the gashes on his hand?"

"He must have done that during Quidditch practice or something," Blaise lied again quickly, avoiding Potter's gaze.

The nurse nodded. "It needs attending to as well."

She flicked her wand, producing a thick stream of white bandage that wrapped around Draco's wounded hand securely. She then bent over Draco, to draw the bed-things over his body, and bustled back into her office.

Pansy wanted to smother her friend with love, to choke him and ram his throat full of it. And with another part of herself she wanted to vent her anger for the last couple of days, by hitting and hurting and clawing at him in a blaze of retaliation. She held Draco's uninjured hand in her own and bit her bottom lip until it stung.

Madam Pomfrey returned, carrying a goblet in each hand. She gently opened Draco's mouth and pressed the first goblet to his lips, pouring the potion down his throat.

Draco's eyelids immediately began to flutter. He gave a low moan and opened his eyes fully. They focused, in an instant of confusion, and his silvery-haloed head rolled sidewards on the pillow. "It hurts. My hand," he said to Pansy, gazing at her through half lidded eyes.

Pansy loosened her fingers. They were cramped with the intensity of her grip. "I'm sorry. I'm so worried about you. I thought you were dead."

Madam Pomfrey looked a warning at her.

"I thought I was too." To her surprise Draco grinned, then winced at the pain from his split mouth. His lips were cracked by deep seams crusted with blood, and his tongue was dark and swollen.

"Nowhere near," the nurse affirmed, now giving him sips of water from the second goblet. "However, it was a bit of a nasty fall you took, Mister Malfoy. You'll recover easily, but I'd like to keep you here overnight."

"Okay."

Beyond the windows of the hospital wing there were trees and clouds, and the striation of light and shadow, the world. He had climbed up out of a dark place because he wanted to be back here again. The memory of the effort it had cost told him how much he had wanted it. Wanted Harry.

He was not like his parents, he was nothing like them or the melancholy predecessor that he was trying to be. He felt a lightness, not just in his knocked head but all through himself, as if he had discarded a weight he had dragged about with him for much too long.

He could see Pansy's chipped nail polish and the dirty, worm denim of Blaise's jeans with intense clarity. The room suddenly seemed empty and bland.

"Where's Harry?"

They all looked around. Harry Potter wasn't anywhere in sight. He must have slipped out while everybody's attention was on Draco.

"I'm sure he'll be back," Blaise said quickly.

Draco realised that they were all looking warily at him. It dawned on him that he was more hurt than he realised. "I am all right," he said clearly. "I am quite all right."

Pansy stroked his hair. "Of course you are."

---

The next morning, Draco was still in the hospital wing. He had had a slight concussion, a bruised collar-bone and severe dehydration. So with one less Slytherin to praise, Professor Snape was being twice as callous to the Gryffindors in his sixth year Potions class.

"I can't believe you saved Malfoy. After everything he did to you!" Ron hissed at Harry as Snape loomed over a shaking and very pale Neville Longbottom on the other side of the room.

Ron had been grumbling about Malfoy and Zabini ever since Harry had stumbled into the common room yesterday morning covered in leaves and dirt. Harry had immediately regretted not going to the showers first to clean himself up as, his housemates hadn't left him alone until he told them about Malfoy and the forest.

There was no explaining why he had felt it right to go and save Malfoy. It was to do with confusion and the possibility of finding answers. But now, after going, Harry only had more questions.

Malfoy had said 'I love you'. It had been quiet, barely a whisper, but Harry had heard it.

"Yes, he's my boyfriend," Harry replied to Ron without thinking.

Ron gaped at him. "Are you all right there, Harry?"

Harry gave a little shrug and prodded at his Potions ingredients with his wand.

"Do you need a glass of water…or a time turner?" Ron continued. "He's your ex-boyfriend. As in he was your boyfriend but isn't anymore. He deceived you and you dumped his--"

"LONGBOTTOM!"

There was a smash and a scream – most likely from Lavender Brown – as what appeared to be Neville's toad, Trevor, leaped out of Neville's robe pocket and onto his desk.

Neville's cauldron and apparatus went crashing to the floor, narrowly missing the toad, which began bounding away from the scene frantically in the direction of Ron, Harry and Seamus' worktable.

"Detention, Longbottom! This Hogsmeade weekend!" Snape barked, as Seamus made a wild snatch for the toad.

Amongst the disturbance, Ron took the chance to continue what he had been saying to Harry. "In fact, technically, he never really was your boyfriend. It was all a sham. Isn't that right, Seamus? Malfoy and Zabini were faking it."

At the mention of Blaise Zabini's name, Seamus promptly dropped Trevor into his own cauldron.

Luckily for Trevor and unfortunately for Seamus, the caldron was empty. It, along with the Potions ingredients Harry had been poking at, fell to the floor as Trevor made a second attempt for freedom.

Snape whirled around. "Detention for you too, Finnigan, and twenty points from Gryffindor."

Blaise sent Seamus a sympathetic smile, but Seamus ignored him. He ducked his head, face and neck reddening, and began to clean up the mess.

Neville started to clean his own equipment up as well, forgetting about his toad as it bounced out of the open door and into the hallway.

Snape towered over the cowering Gryffindor once again. "Bring that thing in here again and I'll put it into my next batch of pickled toad along with Potter's eyes."

Harry stood silently, indifferent and unresponsive, because he knew that the Potions Master was only trying to give him a detention as well by provoking him with a threatening comment.

Harry also had too much on his mind already to bother contemplating how the Potions Master knew about the valentine Ginny Weasley had sent to him back in second year. He was, however, thinking about what Ron had just said.

Ron was right, Malfoy had never really been his boyfriend, and Harry knew from experience, if you never truly had someone you suffer the loss twice over.

---

By the end of Divination that afternoon, Ron seemed to have run out of bad things to say about Malfoy. Harry was relishing the silence, as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch, when they ran into Luna Lovegood.

She was lying flat on the floor, appearing to be looking under the statue of Gregory the Smarmy.

Luna was a strange girl, but Harry and Ron were still amused by the sight.

"Hi Luna," Harry greeted her. "What are you doing?"

"Hello, Harry, Ron." Luna replied, standing up and dusting herself off. "I'm looking for Trevor. Neville's lost him."

"Yeah, he escaped during Potions. We'll help you find him," Harry offered.

"That's very kind of you. I hope we find him soon."

"I thought you hated Trevor," Ron said to her, as he peered behind a suit of armor.

"Hate…Hate." Luna paused at the doorway of an empty classroom. "Yes, well, I hate the way he moves and I hate the way his eyes bulge out of his head. I hate his slimy skin and he's always causing trouble for Neville by taking off. But they're only things that my eyes can see and what they see doesn't matter, because when I search for him I don't look for him with my eyes. I look for him with my heart. My heart that loves how happy Neville is when I find – oh look! There he is!"

Luna disappeared into the classroom.

When Harry and Ron entered the room, Luna was perched on a desk, holding Trevor the toad firmly in her hand. "In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes. For they and thee a thousand errors note. But 'tis my heart loves what they despise, who in despite of view is pleas'd to dote."

"Crazy," Ron muttered to Harry, staring at the Ravenclaw girl incredulously. "Barking mad."

"Yeah, completely mental," Harry replied, not looking at him or Luna. "I'm just going to go to the bathroom. I'll see you back at the common room, okay?"

"Don't leave me with her!" Ron begged, but when looked around, Harry was already gone.

---

Draco stared at Harry in surprise when he entered the hospital wing, reassuringly three-dimensional and definitely not a dream.

He brought with him a bundle of cupcakes from the kitchens. "Hi. I didn't know whether you'd be hungry or not, but I brought these."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot." Draco smiled, talking to cover up the wild leap of his heart at the sight of him.

"How are you?"

"I'm all right." Better now that you're here.

Harry took a step closer towards Draco's bed. "I heard you were. But I thought I'd come by, just to see."

"I'm glad you came back."

"Sorry. I left after I knew that you were okay. You didn't seem to need me and I needed some time on my own…to think."

"Oh." Draco tried his best not to sound hopeful.

Harry didn't mention that he also left because he was still so angry with Draco for what he did that he wouldn't be near him, not even with Parkinson, Zabini and Madam Pomfrey as buffers between them.

There was a slight pause and Draco indicated for Harry to sit down.

Harry watched the movement of the bandaged hand, anger suddenly puncturing his soft expression. "How did this happen? What were you thinking?" he demanded.

"I wasn't thinking."

"You were drunk."

"Yes. I was looking for you."

"I wasn't there." There was exasperation as well as sadness in Harry's voice now, drowning out his short-lived anger.

"I know that."

"Do you remember anything?" Harry pulled a chair closer to Draco's bed and sat down.

"I remember flashing lights and a strange noise. I remember hitting my head and then falling."

"I think you fell into a hole."

"I know. I climbed out and then you found me. I remember that too."

"I found you," Harry repeated, suddenly ducking his head and talking with his heads clasped together tightly in his lap.

"You came for me. I was missing and you came to look for me in the forest."

"Yes," Harry said quietly.

"Thank you. You can't know how much that means to me." Draco reached over and touched Harry's clamped hands and squeezed them quickly, then let them go because he was afraid that Harry might object to such a demonstration. Draco had cleaned the earth out from under the nail tips, but the gash was still visible on his palm.

"You're okay," Harry told him. It was an appreciation and a wider assurance as well as being to do with the state of Draco's hand.

Harry lifted his head. The brief contact between them helped to free the words he had been struggling with. "I was afraid…I was so fearful that you might be hurt." The truth of this seemed enormous, swelling up and washing over him. "I feared that the smallest part of you might be hurt or damaged, that you might be taken away before I had even the chance to tell you so."

"Thank you."

"Stop saying that."

"I don't know what else to say."

"Start at the beginning."

"The beginning?"

"At first I didn't want to know about what you did and why you did it. Now I want you to tell me."

"It's complicated. I don't really know myself."

"Try."

Draco nodded. With a struggle, he put his words together.

"Blaise had been pining after Finnigan for weeks. He was going to make a move but then he found out about the pact. He begged me to help him, so I did. That's when we made the plan. It was partly for him and partly for me. It would help Blaise get Finnigan and it would hurt you. I would make you want me and then throw it all back in your face. But as time went on I began to want you in the same way that Blaise wanted Seamus. That way."

Harry was thinking that it should be awkward to hear Draco talk in this way after everything that had happened, but it was not. It was natural. He chose his words too carefully and tried too hard to make simple what was shaded with nuance and complication, just because he had misread the fact that Harry wasn't angry anymore, but he still said what Harry wanted to hear.

"I should have been able to talk instead, to you and Blaise, but I couldn't. What I felt was…ashamed." The word drifted and fell between them, as softly as a feather.

Harry felt his anger return and he tried to suppress it. "You were ashamed of having feelings for me?"

"No, I was ashamed of having those feelings and not knowing what they meant or what to do with them."

There followed a perfectly still, crystalline moment when Harry knew that he understood everything. The silence grew. They were both thinking of the red bedspread, the hollowed mattress.

Harry finally spoke. "I'm sorry I punched you. I'm sorry you fell into a hole and I didn't find you until after you climbed out on your own."

"If we're in apology mode I'm sorry about the plan. I'm sorry that you found out about it the way you did. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry for pushing you and making you hit your head. I'm sorry I hurt you. Um, is there anything else?"

"That seems to pretty much cover it."

"Will you forgive me?" Draco asked, tacitly avoiding the question of whether the two of them might start seeing each other again.

"I was so mad at you. Mad doesn't even begin to describe how I felt."

"You hate me," Draco said dejectedly.

"Yes. I loathe you. I can't stand you. Everything about you, I hate. I hate you. I hate you so much that…that I…" Harry wasn't thinking about the mattress anymore, but the thick canopy of trees and the heavy darkness of the forest. "I love you."

Draco beamed. "Well, then I hate you too. I hate you so, so, so much. With all my heart. Always. Can we make a proper go of it, you think?"

Harry's answer was to put his hands on Draco's cheeks and cup his face.

Draco stared up at him and raised his head, with his mouth almost touching his. Harry bent his head so that his mouth came even closer. His breath was warm on Draco's face. Draco reached up the remaining distance and kissed him.

Draco held Harry in a tight lock, as if he expected him to run away. But Harry leaned forward in his chair to reach closer to him, greedily and blindly kissing him back, digging his fingers into the stiff sheets, and everything else in the room stood still as if time had frozen.

The kiss warmed the blood in Harry's veins and he forgot the parchment and the betrayal that had governed him ever since he last saw Draco.

They didn't know how long they stayed locked together, buffered by all the bedclothes.

At last Draco lowered his head, Harry still holding his face between his hands.

"We need to do something before we can start seeing each other."

"What?" Draco asked, knowing that he'd do anything.

"Blaise and Seamus."

"I think we'll be able to figure something out," Draco smirked. It was time for revenge. It was time for Blaise and Finnigan to know what it felt like to be forced together. "Blaise will be no trouble, but Finnigan…"

"He'll come around," Harry assured him. "In the meantime, however, I should go."

"What?!" Draco wasn't smiling anymore.

"Sorry, Draco, I'm bound by the pact." Harry shrugged, beginning to stand up.

Draco grabbed hold of his sleeve and pulled him back down. "Screw the pact! You should be allowed to stay! I'm injured! I just spent two nights in the Forbidden Forest! I fell down a hole!"

"You'll have me back soon. I've seen how fast you Slytherins can scheme."

"I'm injured!" Draco repeated.

"It looks to me like you've made a full recovery." Harry laughed, glancing at Draco's bandaged hand, which was still holding onto his shirt tightly.

Draco unclenched his fingers and let Harry go. "There should be exceptions to your stupid Gryffindor rules."

"And there should be limits to your acts of Slytherin trickery." Harry stood up quickly, before Draco could pull him back down again. "I'll see you soon."

---

Draco was discharged from the Hospital Wing shortly after Harry had left. He went straight to Blaise and told him the good news.

Blaise's face lit up at first, but then he frowned dejectedly. "I don't know what I'm going to do about Seamus."

"Well, do you think you could hurry it up a bit? I want to go to Hogsmeade with Harry this weekend."

"I want to go to Hogsmeade with Seamus, but that's going to be kind of difficult seeing as he's not talking to me and he has detention--"

Blaise stopped short, gasping.

"What?"

"That's perfect! I'll win him back by getting him out of detention!"

"Oh, it's that simple, is it?" Draco rolled his eyes. "How do you plan on getting him out of detention exactly?"

Blaise ignored the question. "Tell Potter to be ready for Hogsmeade this weekend. I have a plan."

"Oh, dear Merlin," Draco sighed. "Every time you say those words, something bad happens."

"It'll work this time." Blaise assured him. "Third time lucky."

---

Snape's classroom was packed. So many students had been put on detention – mostly by Draco in his fit of protectiveness over Harry – that there weren't enough seats to accommodate them all, meaning that they had to either stand or share seats.

Seamus signed his name on the detention attendance form and passed it to the Hufflepuff who was sitting on his left. He looked over to the classroom door as it clicked open.

Blaise came marching into the dungeon. There was buoyancy in his bearing and a determined look about him.

Seamus' immediate and terrible instinct had been to duck away and hide from him, using the crowd of students as camouflage, but Blaise easily spotted him. He didn't change his pace as he walked past Seamus' desk, but looked pointedly over his shoulder at him on his way to front of the room.

"What is it, Mister Zabini?" Snape asked. With a careless flick of his wrist, the attendance form flew out of the hands of the Hufflepuff and landed on Snape's desk.

"I have some ideas on how we can improve the Quidditch team, sir."

"Very well. Let's talk about it later." Snape withdrew a quill and began to compare the form to another piece of parchment.

Blaise took the opportunity to motion to Seamus. He pointed and mouthed the words, 'the door'.

'What?' Seamus mouthed back despite himself.

"Door!" Blaise whispered and Snape looked up at the sound.

Blaise smiled and laughed cajolingly, moving to stand directly in front of the desk to block his view of the classroom. "As you know, at the end of the season we're always up against Gryffindor."

Seamus began to slide carefully out of his chair. He cringed when it made a screeching noise against the stone floor.

Snape made to look over Blaise in order to identify the source of the sound, but Blaise stopped him. He drew himself up to his full height. "They kick our butts every year. I was thinking. I devised a plan that will enable us to finally defeat them."

"Which is?" Snape turned all of his attention back to the Slytherin in front of him.

"Misdirection."

Seamus gestured to Neville to take his empty seat, so that Snape wouldn't realise that there was someone missing.

Neville did as requested, but in his nervousness he knocked the chair over when he went to sit down. It made a loud clanging noise that echoed throughout the dungeon.

Blaise raised his voice in an attempt to cover up the sound. "Think about it! Um, they're looking left, and we're flying right. Bang! We score. We win."

"Okay," Snape said slowly. "But how do we get them to look left?" He looked left himself, past Blaise, as Seamus tripped over the fallen chair.

"Um," Blaise said in desperation. "Like this."

Without any hesitation, he unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers and pulled them, along with his boxers, down to the floor.

Neville, who had finally managed to get into the seat, promptly fell out of it again at the sight of Blaise's bare behind. The other Gryffindors roared with laughter, several Hufflepuffs fainted and the Ravenclaws covered their mouths in silent shock and embarrassment.

Snape, on the other hand, was presented with a different, more private part of Blaise's body. His face collapsed inwards, a network of lines meshing his mouth and eyes, which had gone wide and cartoon-like in appearance.

Seamus slipped out of the room unnoticed.

Blaise pulled his pants back up and went to follow him. "Okay. Well, now that you've seen…the plan. I'm going to go and show the plan…to someone else. Okay."

All the students cheered and applauded his and Seamus' success as he exited the room, and for once Professor Snape couldn't be heard yelling at them to quieten down.

---

"Come on, Harry!" Draco whined, trying to pull the Gryffindor into his lap.

"No." Harry pulled away from him, scooting to the other end of the couch. "We have to wait. We don't even know if it will work. Blaise might stuff up."

Draco moved to touch him again but Harry caught his wrist, effectively holding Draco apart from him.

"No, Draco. It's against the rules. I guess we now know what it felt like for Seamus and Blaise."

"Not very likely! Blaise got to kiss Seamus before we were together! I know for a fact that they actually did a lot more than that!"

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do! That time in the library. Finnigan got under the table…" Draco trailed off, explaining the rest by gesturing to his crotch.

"Well, I guess we could--"

Draco didn't give Harry time to finish his sentence. He grabbed his hand and pulled him forcefully into his bedroom.

---

Blaise was pulled into an empty classroom the second he stepped out into the hallway.

"I can't thank you enough for helping me sneak out of detention. Very cool," Seamus said, to Blaise's delight, not letting go of his arm. "And very sexy. I forgot you had such a nice arse."

"You did?" Blaise gasped jokingly.

"You do realise that it would be impossible for you to pull your pants down while riding a broomstick at the same time."

"What can I say? My plans are always flawed in some way."

"Maybe, but they get the job done."

"You reckon?" Blaise asked, taking the cue and leaning in for a kiss.

Seamus stopped him. "Ha--"

"He's with Draco. They're waiting for us in the Slytherin common room."

"How…?"

"I'll explain on the way. You up for Hogsmeade?"

"Not really." Seamus smiled at him, teasing, with the tip of his tongue between his teeth. "I am, however, up for something else."

He locked his arms round Blaise and pulled him off his feet. They staggered backwards together, a desk catching them in the backs of the knees as they fell. They landed in a tangle of limbs on the hard wood, Seamus catching Blaise's wrists and pinning them above his head.

He leant forward and ran his tongue across Blaise's lips and slipped it into the parting flesh. Their tongues slid across each other and Seamus moaned softly, his hands already loosening their hold on Blaise's wrists.

Blaise was soon able to release his hands easily and pull Seamus closer. He broke their kiss to whisper. "Now I have you. You are mine."

"Now, yes," Seamus breathed back. "Blaise gets Seamus."

Their mouths met again, opening wider, trading tongues, sucking and biting. Seamus' hand strayed across Blaise's shirt and fumbled to open its buttons. After a few unsteady movements he removed the rustling folds of linen and slid his hand up Blaise's bare chest. He broke their kissing for the second time, slipping off the desk to undo and discard his own clothes.

He leaned back over Blaise and unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, licking the soft skin just above the waistband. Blaise lifted his hips, allowing Seamus to then pull the garment off him completely.

Seamus retrieved Blaise's wand from the pocket of his trousers before tossing them to the side. He climbed back onto the desk and snatched Blaise's hands into his own again, pressing the wand tip against them and casting the lubrication spell. He then lead Blaise's wet fingers to his opening, before letting go and placing his own hands on Blaise's chest to hold himself upright and brace himself for the oncoming intrusion.

Slowly, Blaise inserted a finger up into him. He waited until Seamus muttered roughly for more before sliding it in entirely.

He wiggled, pushed, pressed and thrust until Seamus began to moan and press back against him. He added another finger, spreading, caressing and stretching.

Seamus fumbled for the wand again. This time he cast the spell onto his own hand and reached down to coat Blaise's hardness.

Blaise gasped as Seamus stroked him, unable to wait much longer. "Are you--?"

Seamus was already moving. In one quick motion he pulled his hand away, pulled his body forwards and slid down, until Blaise was buried inside him.

The sudden white-hot tightness caused them both to moan and throw their heads back. Blaise's striking the sharp edge of the desk with a dull crack.

'Draco exaggerated,' he thought half-mindedly as Seamus arched his back and began to rock his hips. It wasn't like going to heaven, but it was pretty good.

center /center

It hurt. The pain of it took him completely by surprise. He turned his head aside, biting his tongue and the inside of his mouth.

Harry fisted the pillows beside Draco's head, his face tight with longing and concentration. He groaned. "Are-are you okay?"

"Wait." Draco gripped Harry's waist, piercing the slick, sweaty skin with his finger nails. When he felt a little more comfortable, he pulled Harry in the rest of the way. His body shook with the resulting jolt of pain and stab of pleasure.

"D-Draco?" Harry quivered above him.

"Just another second."

Harry gulped and nodded, unclenching his hands from the bed linen to wrap his arms around him.

Draco kept hold of Harry's waist, but loosened his fingers against the trembling, firm smoothness as the pain began to subside.

Harry buried his face in his shoulder, and Draco felt the heat of his little irregular gasps on his skin.

"Okay now?" Harry asked again, after a few more challenging moments.

Draco pressed a blind desperate kiss onto the top of Harry's head. "Yes, I'm ready."

He was more than ready, more than okay. He couldn't even begin to describe how he was feeling. It was better than anything he knew or could imagine. It was exotic and absorbing and funny and proud and simple. It was being so close to Harry that he became him. Better than he could ever be separately.

The words ran around Draco's head until Harry began to move and they lost all meaning. All but one.

"Harry!"

---

"I thought for sure I was busted when I was walking out of the classroom, I tell you." Seamus told Draco and Harry as they walked out of the Slytherin common room, on their way to Hogsmeade Village.

"So how did you keep Snape distracted?" Draco asked Blaise.

At that exact moment, Professor Snape charged out of the classroom they were passing. A student came hurrying after him.

"Professor! I just have some things for Quidditch that I need to run by you!"

"Not now, Uruqhart, I'm busy!"

"But, sir!"

"No!" Snape didn't even notice the other four boys as he turned and fled down the corridor.

Blaise cast Seamus a sideways glance and they both coughed in an attempt to hide their laughter. "I dazzled him with my…Slytherin wits."

The Happy End

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Author's Notes:

As for the whole Blaise flashing Snape thing…It was either that or have Blaise sing 'Can't take my eyes off of you' to Seamus at a Quidditch match, like Heath Ledger did. I hope I made the right choice.

Oh my gosh! It's the last time that you can review for this story! Hurry. Hurry! HURRY! Review. Review! REVIEW! Pleeeeaaaasssseeee!

:-) Lucy