Gryffindor for a Week by xErised

"What do you mean that you can't turn him back, Alastor?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked in horror, her eyes as wide as saucers and a vein ticking murderously on her temple.

"You can try again, Minerva, but it won't work. He'll be like this for a week. He would've learnt his lesson by then," Moody replied, his crooked and scarred lips turning up into a lopsided grin while he stowed his wand away safely back in his pocket.

Pansy gave a small scream at Moody's declaration and quickly bent down to pick the snow-white ferret up gently in her hands. Glaring daggers at both Moody and Harry, she slowly wrapped Draco's tie tenderly around his quivering frame. Draco's small and furry body was shaking in indignation while he gnashed his sharp teeth angrily. He pointed a shaking paw at Moody and started to erupt into small, tinny yells.

"Bloody drama queen," Moody muttered, his magic eye swiveling menacingly back to Draco.

The ferret's screams subsided immediately.

Professor McGonagall stood there, flabbergasted to no end, her mouth opening and closing helplessly like a goldfish. Her eyes darted forth between a smirking Moody and a squeaking Draco Malfoy.

"That's enough! We're going to see the Headmaster about this! Potter, Alastor, Mr. Malfoy, please follow," McGonagall barked sharply, turning sharply on her heel towards the direction of Dumbledore's office.

"No, Miss Parkinson, there'll be no need for you to follow. Do pass Mr. Malfoy to Potter," McGonagall instructed off-handedly when she saw Pansy move towards them. Pansy turned an ugly shade of purple, before grudgingly holding a snarling Draco out to Harry's hesitantly out-stretched hands.

The minute Draco landed in Harry's grasp, the blond immediately bit Harry's wrist venomously. Draco directed a triumphant, wintry grin up at Harry when he saw pinpricks of blood trickling out of the tiny puncture wound.

"Do that again, Malfoy, I'll drop you and you're going to have to limp your furry arse all the way up to Dumbledore's office," Harry threatened, his eyes narrowing. Draco's face twisted into a malevolent sneer as he crossed his arms and turned his back to Harry imperiously, his bristly tail swishing back and forth agitatedly.

In a few minutes, the party had reached Dumbledore's office, and McGonagall instantly explained the matter to the Headmaster. Dumbledore listened placidly, his kindly blue eyes hooking from an extremely irate Professor McGonagall to a sulking Moody, who at least had the grace to look reasonably chastised, and finally resting on Harry and the ferret, who were shooting hostile gimlet stares at each other.

"Well, the answer's rather simple, isn't it, Minerva? It seems as if Mr. Malfoy will have to be looked after by Harry!" Dumbledore pronounced plainly, his eyes twinkling merrily, mingling with a miniscule twinge of challenge, at an astounded McGonagall.

"No!" Harry shouted together with Draco, who was squeaking vehemently, his body shivering with rage.

"Wouldn't Malfoy be better off with the Slytherins?" McGonagall protested, her hands wringing in anxiety.

"Ah, Minerva, but weren't you saying a few weeks earlier that you were tired of the enmity between Harry and Draco? I see this as an excellent opportunity to bring the both of them… closer together," Dumbledore said as he gave Harry a surreptitious wink.

"So it's settled then! Draco will attend Harry's classes, take meals with him, and also sleep in the Gryffindor dormitories with him," Dumbledore announced, silencing McGonagall's dissents with a raised hand. With a swish of his wand, Dumbledore changed Draco's Slytherin tie to a Gryffindor tie, simultaneously shrinking it so that it fit around Draco's neck perfectly.

"Now, does anyone wish for some Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? I do hope I wouldn't get vomit again…" Dumbledore murmured distractedly, rummaging in his candy bowl with undisguised excitement.

McGonagall promptly buried her face in her hands.

"Wicked," Ron exclaimed heartily during Transfiguration class as he poked Draco in the stomach with his wand. Harry grinned back mischievously, jabbing Draco in the tail, pushing Draco back to Ron in the process.

Draco's paw was stuck between Harry and Ron's separate tables, and the two Gryffindors were engaged in a battle of Prod-The-Ferret. Draco bounced back and forth, his head bobbing from left to right. With each shove of their wands, Draco gave out a loud whine of fury. Hermione looked at Harry and Ron, her brow furrowed with disapproval, but no one could miss the tiny smirk on her face.

"Potter! Weasley! Twenty points from Gryffindor!" Professor McGonagall's sharp voice was like a whip cracking, her dark, astute eyes glowering at both boys. Waving her wand, Draco was suddenly dislodged from the tables. With a cry of surprise, Draco wobbled precariously on his unsteady paws before landing unceremoniously on his arse on Harry's table.

The whole class of Gryffindors laughed unkindly.

Draco's small head swiveled from side to side as he snarled severely at the class. His tiny paws scrabbled urgently at the tie on his neck, trying to no avail to remove the traitorous red and gold fabric. Hackles raised and the fur on his back erect, Draco bounded over to Harry and bit him remorselessly on the finger. Harry yelped and whacked Draco hard on the head.

"Enough!" McGonagall bellowed. "You're supposed to look after Mr. Malfoy, Potter, not treat him like he's some sort of animal! I expect better behavior from the both of you! The rest of your teachers will hear of this issue, and trust me, Potter, if I hear any case of bullying, your punishment will be worse than just deducting a few House points! Miss Granger, could you please keep your two friends in hand?"

Hermione gave a small sigh before nodding her head in consent at McGonagall. Moderately satisfied, McGonagall turned her attention back again to the board, flicking her wand at it.

"Bugger," Ron muttered petulantly. Reaching over and giving Draco a last, sharp shove with his wand, Ron scowled at no one in particular before throwing his wand grumpily back into his bag.

Harry was becoming increasingly irritated with Malfoy as the Slytherin pranced happily across his half-scrawled parchment for the umpteenth time. His thick, creamy-white tail wagging contentedly, Draco grinned playfully, ignoring Harry's angry hisses and continued his festive romping, purposely knocking Harry's quill onto the floor with a harsh swish of his tail, which seemed to be rather large for such a small animal.

"Oh, Harry, at least he's not urinating all over your parchment," Hermione soothed, but was quickly shushed by Ron.

"Don't go giving Malfoy ideas!" Ron whispered furiously, his eyes darting to a grinning Malfoy, whose small, beady eyes lit up at that sudden suggestion. Draco purred in delight, positioning his body as though he really was going to pee all over Harry's homework. The brunette's eyes widened in horror before he swiftly yanked Draco off to the other side of the table, pulling his parchment away quickly.

"You better behave yourself, Malfoy, if not you're going to sleep out here in the common room all by yourself for the next week, and I have no idea what the Weasley twins are plotting for you, but I can assure you that it's nothing good," Harry warned, pointing an admonishing finger rudely at Draco's defiant face. The four of them turned to look at Fred and George, whose heads were bent together furtively in a forlorn, slightly darker corner of the common room. Fred was shaking his head vehemently at George, the corners of his lips turned down. George sighed exasperatedly at his twin before lifting up an extremely long piece of parchment up to his nose, his eyes furiously scanning the messily scribbled words on it.

Suddenly, the twins looked up at them, who were staring unabashedly. Fred and George immediately smiled disarmingly, an innocent grin pasted on their features. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco quickly snapped their heads back.

Draco pouted crabbily at the three Gryffindors, his tiny ferret nose lifted high up into the air, but the blond retreated, albeit reluctantly, to a corner on the table and curled up into a ball. His paws were tucked underneath his soft, warm body, his luxurious tail dangling from the edge of the table and swinging languidly from side to side. Draco cocked his head and stared up at Harry with hostile dark grey eyes, nose twitching slightly as though sensing for some sort of danger.

"As long as you stay like that," Harry muttered as he replaced his quill, ink well, parchment and books cautiously in front of him. Opening the tome up to a dog-eared page, he warily gazed at Draco for a few more seconds before resuming to write his essay.

For two hours, the trio stayed like that; Hermione diligently finishing up all her homework and proof-reading her work all over again tirelessly, while Harry and Ron bugged Hermione with questions regarding their essays. Hermione huffed impatiently at the both of them, giving them her daily lecture of 'If you had actually listened in class instead of talking about Quidditch all the time…"

At one time, Draco had snorted derisively, covering his derogatory snickers hastily with a cough when Harry queried Hermione about Potions, and in reply, Hermione had bopped Harry over the head with a stack of parchment.

"Snape already went through this during class yesterday, Harry! And you told me you were listening!"

But now Draco was feeling sleepy and his tired eyes were starting to close. Yawning widely, he padded over quietly to the middle of Harry's parchment and settled down stubbornly. Lifting up his weary eyes to Harry, he blinked sluggishly at the brunette, hoping that he would get the hint.

"I'm only halfway done!" Harry wailed, but Draco refused to move from his spot.

"Look, since I'm done I'll take him up to the boys' dorm. I'll place him on your bed, so don't sit on him later," Hermione offered kindly. She tucked a few loose strands of messy brown hair primly behind her ear and slipped her hand under Draco's limp body, which was covered with velvety fur.

As though a thunderbolt had hit Draco, the blond instantly jack-knifed to a crouching position and hissed at Hermione. Hermione squeaked in surprise, withdrawing immediately from Draco. His teeth were bared in undiluted aggression and his tail was erected in pure anger. Draco's jaw was jutting out in a combative manner, his grey eyes were narrowed don't you dare touch me, mudblood- viciously and his ears pushed flat against the sides of his head in resentment. The ferret's muscles were stiff and radiating with animosity, and the short, yet pointed nails of Draco's paws were extended. Harry could see that the Slytherin was inadvertently causing small tears on his parchment to form.

As abruptly as it had happened, Draco slumped down, as if that show of spite had exhausted the life out of him. Drowsily stumbling over to Harry, Draco nudged Harry's palm open, brushing Harry's quill away from him with a regal sweep of his tail. Stepping onto Harry's hand, Draco gave a small, theatrical sigh and reposed contentedly on Harry's palm. Harry immediately curled his fingers in like a reflex action- to shield Draco. Harry couldn't help but gasp softly when he felt Draco's fine fur poking out between his fingers. Under the bright lights of the room, Draco's shimmering coat was a rich milky white; only his tail was an extremely light shade of yellow. Draco wrapped his tail tighter around himself, causing his glossy coat to ripple slightly in the cool night breeze that wafted comfortingly in through the open windows.

"I think I'll turn in too," Harry said quietly. Ron and Hermione nodded wordlessly. With one arm gripping all his stationery and books, the other hand carefully holding Draco, Harry trudged up to the boys' dorm, walking straight to his four-poster. Dumping his books noisily into his trunk, Harry straightened up and deposited Draco onto his bed.

Sitting up and rubbing his bleary eyes, Draco trotted over to the dresser. He curled up on it, but after a few seconds, the blond scowled with distaste and slinked over to the windowsill. Looping his warm, thick tail around him, Draco snuggled contentedly, his small, beady eyes starting to close…

"What the-" Harry yelped as a blazing stream of fierce fire shot towards Draco, narrowly missing his tail. Draco squeaked in alarm before agilely hopping into Harry's out-stretched hands. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had enveloped Draco in his hands protectively, his thumb stroking a bawling Draco comfortingly between his ears.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Harry! It's my Fieralas!" Neville swiftly dropped his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi that he was reading. Scurrying over to his plant, Neville quickly grabbed it and pulled it closer to him.

"What's that doing here?!" Harry said, horrified. "Those things breathe fire!"

"No, this is a young one. It's just exceptionally moody, that's all. Professor Sprout explained today that it needed to be near humans for it to be alright again, so I offered to keep it for a week before returning it back to her," Neville said patiently while tickling his Fieralas's stem, causing the plant to squirm and writhe in sheer happiness.

Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Hagrid and Norbert.

"Too hard for you?" Harry asked, jerking his chin to the dresser beside Harry's bed. Draco followed Harry's gaze and nodded forlornly. The ferret sneered at Neville as he crossly examined the singed ends of his precious, decadent tail.

"Maybe this'll help," Harry offered, reaching into his trunk and pulling out a set of clothes that were folded neatly. Dusting them off, he scooted over and placed them on the dresser. Draco strutted over and bent his furry head down, suspiciously sniffing the clothes and lifting a paw up to investigate between the folds.

"It's clean," Harry sighed.

Draco gave an almost inaudible purr of gratitude before settling comfortably on the make-shift mattress, tail flicking lazily. Harry couldn't help but smile at the ferret, who looked so adorable lying there on his robes. Draco blinked shrewdly at Harry before sitting up on his haunches and tilting his head.

"Look. We're going to be together for a week. How about we call it a truce? I'll do whatever I can to protect you if you need it, and you don't go out of your way to make me miserable. How's that sound?" Harry offered as he stuck his hand out towards Draco.

Draco narrowed his wiry eyes skeptically at Harry. Turning his head from side to side as if checking for any hidden traps, Draco's grey orbs swiveled from Neville's Fieralas to the robes that Harry had laid for him, and lastly to Harry's proffered hand.

"Don't believe me? I'll bring you…" Harry started as his eyes fell on a copy of Quidditch Through The Ages lying on Ron's bed, "I'll bring you flying if you behave yourself in the next two days. Deal?"

Letting his mouth split into an exhilarated grin, Draco placed his paw in Harry's hand, squeezing it for a split second before hastily withdrawing it and returning to his position on the dresser. Draco suddenly hissed unhappily, his tiny paws scratching at the tie around his neck. Harry hurriedly reached up and undid the knot, slipping the miniature tie off.

Draco blinked in astonishment and stretched his neck haughtily, screwing his eyes shut and baring his teeth to Harry. The blond infinitesimally inclined his head gratefully towards the Gryffindor before closing his eyes and beginning to doze off.

Harry gazed at Draco for a while longer, suppressing the urge to wrap his hand around Draco and pet him to sleep. Sighing to himself, the brunette removed his glasses and scrambled under his blankets.

Biting his lip, Harry hesitantly bade Draco a good night. When Draco emitted a sleepy squeak in return, Harry couldn't help but beam secretly to himself.

The next day found the trio and the ferret back in the Gryffindor common room again, fretting over the new avalanche of homework shoved down their throats. Harry sighed morosely and tapped warily on Hermione's shoulder, his quill poised in mid-air as he tried to phrase his question in a way to show that he had been listening in class. Hermione spun around, frowning at the brunette, and Harry braced himself for a tirade of annoyance and incredulity.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Oh no, not you too, it's bad enough that Ron has to ask me about every question like I'm some sort of walking encyclopaedia-"

"But you are one, Hermione!" Ron wailed, but quickly back-tracked when he saw the fury on Hermione's face. "I mean, it's a good thing, isn't it? People think that you're all smart and clever and nothing else- Oh bloody hell-" the redhead cut himself short as Hermione's face mutated into one of murderous wrath. Behind Hermione, Harry silently gasped and made a slashing motion with his fingers hovering near his throat, his head slowly shaking from side to side.

Ron gulped miserably, slowly wilting under the wattage of Hermione's glare as he quickly stared off calmly into the middle distance, twiddling his thumbs in a pretense of absent-mindedness. Both Harry and Ron immediately became victims of bouts of sudden deafness as Hermione embarked on a fresh diatribe of nagging.

Draco giggled unkindly when he caught sight of Harry and Ron's tortured faces, but his sneers spiraled upwards into a horrified shriek when a sharp, gleaming claw, with a flash of ginger, swiped experimentally at him. Squealing like an angry piglet, the blond bounded lightly up Harry's arm and perched himself precariously on Harry's shoulder.

"Bad Crookshanks!" Hermione admonished sternly. Bundling up the purring cat in her arms, Hermione got up and carted her pet away. Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief as his rigor mortis grip on Harry's robes slackened.

"You okay?" Harry asked, wrapping a hand around the ferret and bringing him gently down. Draco nodded. His tail coiled defensively around himself, Draco eyed Harry's pathetically blank parchment and the array of textbooks sprawled all over. The blond studied Harry cannily, and the other boy couldn't help but feel self-consciousness all of a sudden.

Settling himself ostentatiously in the middle of Harry's parchment, Draco let his eyes scan the so-called mind-boggling question that Harry seemed to be stuck with. Slinking over to the thick and leather-bound Potions textbook, Draco squinted down at the page that the tome was currently flipped open to. His whiskers twitching, the blond hopped back to look at the question again. Wrinkling his nose, Draco slipped his paws under the last few pages of the book and tried to heave the heavy sheets with his tiny hands, but only succeeded to flip himself over with an embarrassed hiss.

Harry simply stared at the ferret like he was some sort of circus act. Harrumphing authoritatively at the brunette and emitting a vehement squeak, Draco propped himself up on his hind legs, drew himself up as much as he could, puffed his chest out importantly and crossed his arms bossily, his tail swishing agitatedly behind him.

Do I have to do everything around here, Potter?!

Galvanized into action, Harry quickly pulled the book closer and riffled hurriedly through the pages. Opening the book fully with a mighty push of his tail, Draco cringed slightly as the front cover of the book landed on the table with a loud, reverberating thump. Yanking Harry's quill out from the Gryffindor's grasp rudely, Draco swiftly analysed the question again with a critical eye. After a moment, the blond nodded satisfactorily to himself. Turning his head from side to side, Draco sighed dramatically as he gestured towards Harry's ink-well, which lay forlornly on the other side of the table.

Snapping himself out of his gawking, Harry hastily swept the ink-well over right beside a smirking Draco. Beaming innocently up at the Gryffindor, Draco twisted his body and dipped the nib into ink. Skittering over to Harry's textbook, the blond bent over with the quill, which was roughly the ferret's own size. Teetering a bit clumsily, Draco began to waddle across the page, his tiny tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration. In his paws, the quill was messily underlining the sentences that held the answers to Harry's assignment.

"Well, er, thanks," Harry muttered disbelievingly as Draco plopped down beside Harry's parchment. The ferret inclined his head politely at the brunette and folded his paws beneath his body, his wiggling tail displayed proudly behind him.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Hermione piped up. Burying a hand in her bag, the witch fished out a book and presented it to Harry. "Here. It might be useful."

"Ferrets: A Compendium of Behavioral Traits. Blimey, the library at Hogwarts really has everything," Ron commented while he read the title of the book aloud. Rousing himself from his resting position, Draco cracked an alert eye open and elegantly tripped over to the trio. Balancing his two front paws a bit awkwardly on Harry's wrist, both Draco and Harry skimmed through the content page.

Harry grinned gratefully at Hermione as he gently closed the book and stowed it safely away in his own bag. Draco cocked his head in a calculative manner, his grey eyes blinking shrewdly at Hermione, snagging and holding her gaze delicately for a few seconds. With that, he lifted his nose up in the air haughtily and padded back to his spot, his back turned towards the trio.

"Not even a word of thanks!" Ron spluttered in exasperation.

"It's okay, Ron," Hermione soothed, placing a calming hand on Ron's arm. Tucking a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, the witch chanced another glance at the ferret. Maybe he didn't thank me verbally, but there was something in that look…

The stars sparkled like polished jewels against the velvety, dark background of the skies, complete with the calm trailing of the clouds. Crickets chirped their soft symphony peacefully amongst the gently rustling trees. The air was sweet, still and warm. A milky, welcoming path of soft, glistening moonlight shone down on the wet, dewy blades of emerald-green grass, guiding their trek towards the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

Harry held the ferret carefully, as though Draco was made of china. The blond's body radiated comforting warmth, but Harry could feel his fragile bones nestled underneath all that fur, bestowing a frail, yet vulnerable quality to Draco.

The blond was kangarooing excitedly up and down Harry's palm, enthusiasm and passion threatening to burst from his tiny frame. His back was arched maniacally while he twisted his small body madly. An eager panting sound that almost sounded like a hiss spilt forth from Draco's mouth as the ferret twirled and pranced blissfully at the edge of Harry's fingers.

What the-, Harry blinked curiously while Draco swayed and wriggled precariously in his loose grasp. Searching through the dregs of his mind, Harry tried to remember an excerpt from the ferret book that Hermione borrowed from the library…

"When ferrets are excited, they may perform a routine commonly referred to as the weasel war dance, a non-threatening invitation to play or an expression of happy excitement."

Draco emitted a loud, unexpected squawk as he felt the ground give way underneath his feet when the blond accidentally pirouetted out of Harry's hand. Dropping his broomstick with lightning-fast reflexes, Harry quickly slipped his other hand beneath a falling Draco before he could hit the ground. Curling his fingers over the ferret protectively, Harry lifted him up and studied Draco with concern, his eyebrows caterpillaring into a long, worried line.

"You alright?" he queried gingerly. In reply, Draco tilted his head questioningly and let out an impatient growl. Hopping agilely into Harry's pocket, the brunette watched in amazement as the Slytherin rustled and squirreled away in a disgruntled manner. Draco's small body was hot-wired, refusing to sit still as his bushy tail tossed out dirty candy wrappers and unwanted scraps of parchment. Huffing Merlin, Potter, must I clean out your sodding pockets for you- irritably, Draco popped his tiny, ferrety head out, his paws clutching the rim of Harry's pocket tightly. Wrinkling his nose up at Harry, the blond stuck his lower lip out and glared imperiously at the Gryffindor, a demanding paw pointing up to the sky.

Harry, in return, flashed Draco a terse smile, trying heroically to suppress the sudden, hot spurt of indignation. Kicking off expertly from the ground, Harry slowly gained altitude. His thighs pressed against his broomstick, the Gryffindor swerved and swooped in the air, with a grinning Draco bundled up safely in his pocket.

Harry swallowed and tried not to fidget as he flew adeptly, but the knot in his throat simply refused to shrink. The situation felt so surreal, so unbelievable that he had to mentally pinch himself to prove that he wasn't dreaming. Adrenaline swooshed addictively through his veins while he kept a cautious eye on Draco, ensuring that he would not fall off.

The ferret's fur was rippling like waves due to the comforting wind washing over the both of them. His nose was twitching animatedly and his eyes were closed in sheer thrill. But most importantly, Draco had a genuine beam on his lips, no, not a smirk, not a sneer, not even the smug smile that Harry had gotten so accustomed to over the years. The presence of the innocent grin was as unexpected as a fresh breeze on a closed and humid day, and Harry shivered when he felt his heart perform a double backflip.

Running a hand over his tousled black locks, Harry flew higher up, feeling the heavy curtain of inhibition gradually dissolve into nothingness as he threw himself into the sheer enjoyment and pleasure of flying. Letting out a delighted whoop, the fourteen-year-old tried to control the smile that threatened to engulf his entire head.

That evening, both boy and ferret glided and sliced contentedly in the night skies as the stars twinkled and glistened approvingly above their heads like clear-cut diamonds, almost near enough to pluck.

Hermione huffed bad-temperedly at the ferret. She nudged the jar of bluebell flames towards a shivering Draco, her other hand flipping the page of the book that she was reading, but the blond mulishly turned his nose up at her, sliding away from the comforting heat.

"Fine! Be that way!" The witch snapped as she grabbed the jar and roughly pulled it back to herself.

Draco glared venomously at Hermione, his bushy tail trussed around his small, freezing body. He let out a small sigh, hoping that the Gryffindor Quidditch practice session would end soon. Draco could almost feel the warmth of the fireplace in Gryffindor common room, and he cracked a small, comforting smile at that thought.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed abruptly, dropping her book. Draco hurriedly jerked his eyes up to the sky, only to see a limp form fall bonelessly from the clouds. Swiftly whipping out her wand, Hermione muttered a spell before running towards the pitch. Draco whined futilely after her, wishing that she had brought him along. Crossing his hands petulantly, Draco pouted at nothing in particular. However, when his eyes landed on the flickering flames on the bench, he grinned slyly and slinked towards the heat, grinning in dark-eyed rapture as he felt the welcoming warmth gradually envelop him.

Suddenly, he felt a pair of large hands grab him painfully. Draco yelped in surprise and discomfort, twisting his body around. Fred and George Weasley smirked evilly at each other, before yanking a screaming Draco away from the lights of the pitch and hurrying to a dark corner.

"Ouch!" George cried out as Draco maliciously bit him on the thumb. Fred scowled and hit Draco hard on the head. The blond whimpered in pain, his small paws gripping the sides of his throbbing head. His body was shivering in fear and trepidation and his wary grey eyes were swiveling madly from twin to twin. A barely audible hissing was emerging from Draco's tightly compressed lips, as though he was having a slow puncture.

"Didn't expect Hermione and Harry to take such good care of you, actually," Fred started, his eyes dancing spitefully at the long piece of parchment that George passed to him and a deceptively friendly smile pasted on his lips. Draco thrashed wildly in George's grasp, but the redhead started to shake Draco so violently that the blond's vision became woozy. Coughing weakly, Draco tearfully gazed at both Weasleys as he tried to keep the quaver out of his squeals, hating the revealing note of pity in his voice. He felt like a small rodent in the grip of two peckish hawks; he was at Fred and George's complete mercy, too small and too powerless to fight against both Weasleys, who towered above him like a pair of juggernauts.

"Won't work with us, Malfoy. We were hoping to get you on our own, and it looks like tonight's the big night!" Fred grinned as he rummaged in a huge backpack that was thrown unceremoniously on the ground.

"We've been working on a few things, Malfoy. Which ones should we start first?" George asked, his finger trailing swiftly down the list with a teasing air of a magician.

"Hmmm… how about some Nosebleed Nougats and Puking Pastilles?"

"At the same time?"

"Is there any other way?" Fred said nastily to a screeching Draco.

"Oh you don't have to worry, Malfoy. We've tried it on ourselves, and it works. But I wouldn't know for slimy little ferrets like you. Maybe you might be permanently disfigured-"

"-or stay as a ferret forever, but I daresay that it's an enormous improvement-"

"-or grow another arm-"

"-or leg-"

"-or lose all your hair!" George finished, reveling in the horrified glare that Draco shot at both of them.

Draco felt panic and apprehension hovering at the fringes of his mind and his wild eyes scanned the area around him, hoping for either Harry or Hermione to appear. Of course, he would have preferred for a Slytherin to be around, but he knew that the two Gryffindors had given their word to McGonagall, and truth be told, the both of them had been taking proper care of Draco for the past few days, Draco admitted grudgingly. The blond suddenly realized how weak and susceptible he was as a burst of intense longing for Harry rose up in him. Draco stared at the twins in an expression of blank, feeble terror.

"Enough talk, brother of mine. Let's start," George whispered ominously as he forced Draco's jaws open with his thumb and forefinger. Draco mewled pitifully, his paws uselessly scrabbling at George's hand and his tail waving agitatedly. His grey eyes were burning with hatred and fury, flickering between George and Fred's amused ones. The twins sneered, salting the air with their malicious laughter.

"Ooh, we're so scared. What're you gonna do? Flick your pretty little tail at us?" Fred teased before shoving two pills one after the other down Draco's throat. George immediately let go don't want ferret sick all over me- of Draco. Taking this opportunity, Draco quickly scrambled away from the twins, but he couldn't go far before he collapsed on the cool, dewy grass. His eyes popping, Draco began to throw up and bleed from his nose simultaneously. His vulnerable body was wracked in small spasms with each heave, and his bloodied paws scratched helplessly on the grass. Draco glared weakly up at the twins, his tail folded protectively around his body. Little stars danced tauntingly in his field of vision as he dissolved into a pool of useless embarrassment on the grass.

"Yeah!" Fred and George cheered, giving each other a high five.

"Okay, what's next?" George muttered, consulting his list again.

"How about some… ton-tongue toffees? One toffee for each insult that both Malfoys threw at us and our family," Fred suggested, ignoring the terrified, pathetic screams emitting from the ferret.

"Oh, you horrible boys!" Hermione screeched sharply, her words echoing angrily in the night sky. The twins jumped at her sudden, ear-piercing entrance, but recovered their equilibrium instantly.

"Hermione! Come and join in the fun! Maybe one punching telescope for each time Malfoy called you a Mudblood! I'll give you the pleasure of using it on him," Fred offered pleasantly, shoving the burgeoning bag of tricks towards her.

"Where're the antidotes?!" Hermione demanded, marching over to the twins and holding out her hand domineeringly.

"Aw, Mom!" Fred mock-whined, his lips formed into a childish pout.

"I don't know about you, but I'm quite sure that Mrs. Weasley would not be pleased with the two of you killing a student of Hogwarts, even though he is Malfoy!" Hermione howled at the both of them, her reprimand escalating to a shrill shriek.

The twins stared at the ferret who was turning an unpleasant shade of purple and green. Draco's front was drenched in his own blood and a puddle of vomit had formed beneath his feet. Fred and George gazed at each other, before reluctantly sighing together and dumping both antidotes on Hermione's trembling hand.

Throwing a dirty look at both twins, Hermione hurried over to Draco and slid both pills down his scratchy throat. Hermione frowned at Draco's bloodied coat of fur. Whispering a spell under her breath, a forceful stream of water shot out from the tip of Hermione's wand, washing the blood and vomit off Draco.

The ferret slumped down wearily on the grass, breathing deeply.

"Harry's been sent to Madam Pomfrey. A few bruises and probably a broken wrist, but he'll be fine tomorrow after a night at the infirmary. Come on, I'll bring you back to the Gryffindor dorms. You'll have to sleep alone tonight though," Hermione explained, sticking her arm out to Draco.

Draco gazed superciliously up at Hermione, his eyes flickering towards Hermione's out-stretched hand.

Hermione scowled at Draco, but her stony profile softened when the blond crawled willingly up to Hermione's hand. Curling up contentedly in Hermione's palm, he tilted his head and blinked owlishly up at Hermione. Draco's bristly tail drooped over Hermione's wrist and he let out a soft yawn.

"Back to the dorms then," Hermione whispered as she walked back to the pitch.

Draco immediately sat up and shook his head vehemently.

"You want to spend the night at the infirmary with Harry?"

A toothy grin lit up on Draco's face.

Hermione shrugged casually, changing her direction towards the infirmary. They continued like this for a while, Draco safely draped over Hermione's palm and Hermione sneaking astonished glances at the ferret.

"Well… you really are as soft as Harry said you were."

"I just can't get it right, Hermione!" Harry wailed in exasperation as he swished his wand half-heartedly. Hermione extracted Harry's wand firmly from his grasp and placed it beside her.

"Finish your dinner, and we'll try the spell again later. If you really can't get the charm right, we can always ask Flitwick," Hermione offered, giving Harry an encouraging pat on the arm. "Is Malfoy feeling better?" Hermione suddenly asked, her fork held in mid-air.

"Yeah, he's in our dorms resting. He's been rather sluggish today. I brought some food up for him half an hour ago," Harry said.

Dinner continued uneventfully, the Gryffindor table humming with the ebb and flow of conversation. Just when Harry was about to tuck into a slice of scrumptious chocolate cake, Nearly Headless Nick stormed through the doors of the Great Hall theatrically and screeched to a stop at the Gryffindor table.

"Fire! Fire in the fourth year Gryffindor boys' dorm! Caused by some sort of plant!" he hollered. The table immediately fell silent, then exploded into a hullabaloo of alarm. Neville instantly stopped chewing, his eyes round islands of horror. Ron looked around and did a mental count. "We're all here, so it's just our stuff left," he pointed out.

Harry froze, feeling a faint chill creeping up his limbs.

Draco.

Hauling himself off the bench, Harry turned and urgently raced out of the Great Hall, the thudding of his shoes hitting the floor like swift, rhythmic castanets.

"Wait! Harry! Your wand!" Hermione cried out after him, but the brunette was already gone.

**

The flames quivered and leapt chaotically from surface to surface, nothing but a searing, blazing orange inferno. It gulped and danced gleefully, devouring everything in sight. It was as though the tip of Harry's nose was melting. The air was thick and smoky, leaving the Gryffindor gasping desperately for breaths. Harry hovered on the threshold of the entrance to the dorms, trying to access the situation, trying to ignore the shockwaves that coursed in his blood, trying vainly to hope that Draco had managed to escape-

God, if I'm having such a problem breathing, and Draco's so tiny…

"Draco! Draco!" Harry screamed through the fire, but he could barely hear himself through the cacophony of wood crackling and the sound of Neville and Dean's four-posters collapsing into shards.

A thin, icy strand of terror and disbelief built up in Harry as he lifted up his robes and wrapped it across his nose and mouth. He could see, out of the corner of the prancing flames, Neville's Fieralas wriggling in pure bliss as it belched and spat out furious, red-hot jets of fire. Reaching for his wand, Harry was horrified to find out that it wasn't there.

I left it during dinner, shit, he cursed himself inwardly. He shouted Draco's name again, his breath suddenly feeling constricted when he didn't get a reply. Storming towards his four-poster, his eyes swiveling wildly in all directions because he simply didn't know where Draco could be-

Harry stepped over the fallen, charred pieces of debris, trying to ignore the dull weight of dread that settled itself like a boulder on his shoulders. Harry quickly scanned the area for a flash of white, his ears pricked for the sound of a squeak, a squeal, a bawl, anything, anything at all, no matter how soft or how low, please, something to show me that he's still alive-

And he was rewarded by a high-pitched screech that triggered his attention. Whipping his head down to the floor near Ron's bed, Harry felt the color drain from his face. Draco had been in the midst of fleeing the scene, but had been pinned under a large plank of wood that had fallen from the redhead's bed. His paws scrabbled hopelessly on the heated floor as he alternated between a series of weak, feeble coughs and a chatter of squeals to alert Harry, but his squeaks were become fainter by the second-

The brunette's breath suddenly felt constricted. The fire was increasing in intensity, the air around them dusty and carrying dangerously low levels of oxygen. Scurrying over towards Draco, hoping that no falling pieces of wreckage would slam on him, Harry swiftly crouched down, yanked the debris away from the ferret and tried to hurry back out the way he came. Gasping when he felt a searing, slashing pain pierce remorselessly through his shoulder, Harry scuttled out of the destroyed dorms, trying as hard as possible not to trip over anything.

Stumbling to his knees as he finally hurled out into fresh air, Harry took lungfuls of much-needed oxygen, before realizing that Draco was not moving. His eyes wide with horror, the Gryffindor shook Draco's limp body slightly. His shoulders were set and rigid as Harry hunched protectively over Draco.

With every silent second passing, a fresh barb of fear lobbed itself at Harry's heart. Guilt closed its chilly fingers around him, each dismal what-if hurting like a cold stab to the gut.

I should have stayed with him, I shouldn't have left him at all, then he won't be like this, oh, Draco, please wake up, please, please, please!

Harry tried to stopper the desperation blaring in his mind, to ignore the fresh wave of misery that rose in his throat. His voice was tight with anguish, his lips white with tension while his heart tore and twisted within him. But still, Draco lay in his shaking hands, his body horribly slack and still, his dirty, sooty tail not even twitching an inch.

Harry bit his lip and rubbed Draco in between the ears, hoping that Draco could hear his pleas to wake up, but each pause, each controlled whisper that he choked out nibbled at Harry's shaky composure. He heard Hermione's voice soothing him, the tidal wave of apologies that Neville was sobbing, the presence of Ron beside him, someone running an expert hand through his wounds on his shoulder and arm, the cool rush of medication applied. He saw a pair of hands in his peripheral vision attempt to tug Draco away from his grasp, but Harry stubbornly kept his hold on Draco, because Draco would be fine, I'm sure, he's got to be okay-

And then, as if by magic, Draco's eyelids fluttered open weakly as he expelled a cough. Grey eyes stared blankly at Harry for a while, before his nose twitched, smelling the rancid scent of burning matter. Draco's eyes crinkled up in a tentative smile while he cooed softly at Harry. Mustering all of his energy, Draco painstakingly lifted his tail to gently swipe at the hot sweat that poured down on both sides of Harry's face.

You can't get rid of me that easily, Potter.

His smile like a shower of fireworks, Harry enveloped Draco in a squidgy, precious hug, rubbing Draco's soft fur against his cheeks. The brunette felt his heart expand with affection, the hot tears of relief threatening to spill over-

They stayed like that for a while, in their little bubble of a world, grinning madly at each other, this delicate thread of intimacy at having just saved someone's life sliding and wrapping itself around them, almost changing every single thing that they thought they knew about each other…

"Well, tomorrow's the day you'll be back with the Slytherins," Harry said in as casual a tone that he could muster. In reply, Draco bounced lightly on the windowsill, a squiggly grin on his face. The Gryffindor matched the blond's beam, but an unwanted, cumbersome thought had lodged itself in the back of his mind:

Will you miss me?

Harry winced inwardly, hating the way it sounded, like something out of a bad romance novel. Resisting the urge to actually verbally ask it out loud, Harry flashed a half-hearted smile at the ferret and adjusted his position in bed. Draco had his head cocked, his shrewd grey eyes looking at the other boy.

Wanting to smooth over the cautious silence with noise, with questions, with conversation, anything, the brunette blurted out the first thought that popped up.

"Can I pet you?"

Clamping a hand swiftly on his mouth, as if that could take back the astonishing question that he asked, Harry made a faint choking sound and shook his head vigorously. Draco blinked and swayed a bit on his paws as he sat up and chirruped, startled.

"I didn't mean that, you know I didn't," Harry forced out a dry laugh and fidgeted uncomfortably, pulling the duvet up to his shoulders. But to his immense surprise, the blond hopped agilely down to the bed, flattened his body and wriggled and squeezed himself underneath Harry's hand. Jerking his chin up as though giving Harry permission, Draco lowered his head down on the bed passively.

Harry cleared his throat, his nerves flittering as he moved his fingers woodenly, gently carding his fingers through Draco's soft, luxurious fur. The blond let out a cross between a purr and a sigh from the back of his throat, stretching his body out comfortably. Emboldened, Harry used his thumb to stroke Draco meditatively between his ears, eliciting a joyous, drawn-out hum from the Slytherin. Harry's face melted into a soppy, gooey smile, a fresh wave of butterflies breaking free from his chest.

Draco squeaked demandingly as he rolled over, exposing his belly to Harry. Getting the hint, Harry laughed happily and continued to fondle Draco, caressing the squishy, delicate flesh, his hand a skillful play of knuckles and fingers. Clouds of pink in his cheeks, Draco arched into Harry's touch, erupting into a series of shrill squeals that Harry had never heard before.

He's not in pain, is he? Harry wondered, but he was sure that he had read about it…

"A ferret will sometimes let out a high-pitched squeal or hiss to signify its submission."

As abruptly as it had happened, the mischievous mood vanished. Suddenly shy from the intimacy of the moment before, both Harry and Draco avoided each other's gaze. The atmosphere had condensed into this uncomfortable silence that unnerved Draco, and the ferret wobbled twitchily on his hind paws. Running his tongue through the inside of his mouth, Harry tentatively whispered, "Sleep on the bed with me tonight. I promise I won't crush you."

Casting apprehensive grey eyes onto Harry, Draco scampered nearer to the other boy. Sliding a finger underneath one of Draco's paws, Harry smiled genially at the blond. Draco stared resolutely down at his feet, not daring to believe that he was willingly basking in Harry's warm gaze. Using his palm to gently nudge Draco to his pillow, Harry blinked and scooted closer to Draco.

"Go to sleep," Harry murmured quietly, his voice unraveling into a yawn. With that, Harry brushed his fingernails across the length of Draco's tail, coaxing the ferret to a sweet, deep slumber. It was the exact picture of a boy cuddling his new pet to sleep, the scene as pretty as a fairy tale, twinkling with innocence and affection.

Draco Malfoy was currently studying Harry Potter with the thoughtful air of a connoisseur.

Cocooned underneath the toasty warm blankets, Draco blinked the remaining sleep away from his eyes and peered at the brunette. Carefully ensuring that their bodies did not touch at all, the blond meticulously tugged his long legs from the covers, hugging his knees to his chest.

Grey eyes scoured the notorious, crinkled waves of jet-black hair that curled at the nape of his neck while the sunshine poured its warmth down on both boys. Draco continued his visual assault down Harry's face, his eyes sliding like oil over water from the other boy's closed eyelids, the long sweep of eyelashes which were so much like teasing, tiny tentacles, to his cheeks that were rosy with sleepy happiness, down to the sugared-pink lips that were slightly open.

However, Draco's face still betrayed no visage of emotion, arranged into a calculated, unconvincing portrait of someone who did not care at all. But that image was shattered when the Slytherin judiciously inched his own fingers underneath Harry's fingertips in a strangely intimate gesture. Draco's eyes, vigilant for a flutter of eyelashes or a stirring yawn, suddenly widened in aristocratic alarm when the brunette leaned in slightly, groggily nestling his head nearer towards Draco's shoulder. Harry's fingers curled over Draco's hand in a safeguarding manner, and Draco felt his cheeks turn hot when he felt a warm glow spread to his fingertips.

The Slytherin's inscrutable expression slipped a bit when his gaze hooked on the angry, bright red bruise a surprising epitome of stability and security- on Harry's arm that the fire had inflicted.

His eyes lingered there for a long moment, and a sliver of mild affection, almost tenderness imperceptibly seeped into them. Gently dislodging himself from the other boy, Draco hauled himself gracefully out of bed. Crossing over to the other half of the bed, the blond silently lifted up the edge of the duvet and pulled it up almost like how a mother would tuck her child in bed- to Harry's chin.

Withdrawing the small Gryffindor tie that Dumbledore had transfigured specially for Draco when he had been a ferret, the blond wrapped it around Harry's wand and formed a knot. Replacing his wand back onto Harry's bedside, Draco cast the brunette one last, clinging, unfathomable look before turning away and walking towards the door.

Suddenly, Draco stopped, as though remembering something, and re-traced his steps, but this time, he stalked towards Ron's four-poster. Snatching Ron's wand up, Draco sneered maliciously as he poked the redhead viciously in the ribs with the tip of his wand.

That's for the first day, Weasley.

Beaming triumphantly to himself when Ron let out a surprised and pained yelp, Draco spun sharply on his heel and slinked stealthily and surreptitiously out of the Gryffindor dorms, exactly like a ghost disappearing without a trace on the break of dawn.

It had been a week after the ferret fiasco. Sometimes, Harry would catch himself reaching absently for the ferret book and thumbing through it to prove to himself that yes, the whole incident did happen. When Draco had left the Gryffindor dorms that morning, Harry had tried to ignore the short burst of longing that he felt when he had failed to see the familiar ferret on his bed.

Switching the water off, Harry started to towel himself dry in the showers. Changing into clean attire, Harry couldn't help but smile slightly when he fished out the tiny Gryffindor tie that had once belonged to Draco.

With that tie ensconced safely in his pocket when he had flown that night, sometimes Harry could fool himself that the ferret was up there, floating high in the night skies together with him, squealing and yelping joyfully.

The Slytherins' reactions had all been quite puzzling, Harry mused. Pansy and Blaise had been shooting Harry some rather weird looks during meals in the Great Hall, and even Crabbe and Goyle had puzzled expressions on their faces whenever Pansy pointed Harry out noisily to the Slytherin table.

However, Draco had opted to keep his face as blank as a fresh canvas, guarding his true feelings behind his eyes. A self-conscious Harry would sometimes stay up for a while, unable to sleep while his mind cycled through the possible things that the Slytherins could be discussing about him. Wrinkling his nose curiously, Harry paused in his thoughts for a while, his hand frozen on the lock of the shower door.

"Can I pet you?"

Oh, God. It has to be that! Harry realized with dawning shock, that revelation like icy water thrown in his face. Now they think I'm some kind of… ferret pervert!

Horrified at himself, Harry miserably pressed his forehead soundlessly against the cubicle wall.

It's okay, everything will blow over in a while… Harry told himself desperately as he muttered darkly under his breath and stepped out of the bathroom. Folding his towel and packing up his bathing paraphernalia, Harry was just about to leave when-

"I don't recall thanking you properly."

Jumping out of his skin, Harry squawked wordlessly in consternation. Surprised to hear Draco Malfoy's clear, crisp and cool voice, that came as suddenly as a bolt out of the blue, Harry willed his thumping heart to calm as he straightened up and took a deep, shaky breath.

"You didn't have to save me from the fire," Draco continued smoothly, as though it was an everyday occurrence for him to invite himself into the showers and shock the living sodding daylights out of Harry Potter.

"It's not a big thing, really… if I didn't save you McGonagall would have had my head…" Harry tried to sound blasé and sophisticated, but ended up dissolving into a bout of meek, self-deprecating chortles.

"Really?" Draco murmured lightly. And with that single word, Harry found himself doubting his actions that fateful day. Was it really because of McGonagall, or… Giving himself a mental shake, Harry found his voice.

"Hermione helped you too, you know, remember the Weasley twins, so maybe you should go and you know, talk to her and stuff," Harry mumbled, his voice, which had been rising hysterically, dropped feebly at the end. He knew he was blathering inanely like an idiot, but bloody hell, when did Draco suddenly become so near to me, when, oh bollocks-

Throughout the brief conversation, the blond had crossed the distance between them stealthily, leading to Harry being pushed up against the wall and Draco an arm's length away from him. Trying to push down the mild suspicion is this a trick by the rest of the Slytherins- that rippled across his skin, Harry reluctantly lifted nervous green eyes up to Draco, gulping edgily.

"I came alone," Draco reassured him, his lips quirked up in amusement.

"That's nice to hear! Oh, you've thanked me now so… it's getting rather late, don't you think that we should be returning to our dortries- sorry, doritories- I mean, dormitories! Merlin, that's quite a word, isn't it!" Harry squeaked agonizingly as he inched away in what he hoped was a subtle movement.

But then he made the grave mistake of looking into Draco's eyes, those eyes which were armed with an eviscerating stare that made his personal bits go all hot and bothered, and then Harry knew, he knew that he couldn't slip away from this… this paragon of perfection no matter how hard he wanted to, his feet just simply won't move-

Harry tried to conceal the turmoil that churned angrily in him like a dangerous animal. What would Ron and Hermione think?! He was so sure that if Draco scrutinized his shirt, he could almost see his heart thumping underneath it, his heart which was banging so madly against his rib-cage-

The brunette was nothing but a roiling mass of confusion, an embarrassing mass of reactions that were exploding like fireworks all over in him. This wicked rush of giddy excitement that filled his mind, this… helpless, fluttering desire that was flickering in his nerve endings, this tenseness that made his stomach contract to the pathetic size of a grape.

Carefully keeping their bodies apart, Draco leaned forward slightly, a confident, whiplash smile on his lips. His grey eyes carried a hint of merriment, mingled with a grain of challenge. Sliding a lone finger from Harry's temple down to his cheekbone, Draco shifted closer to the other boy, and Harry continued gawking at the blond, mesmerized by the sensuous movement of his wrist, and it wasn't until Draco's face was too close for comfort that Harry suddenly realized, with a trickle of horror and a truck-load of shock, that single, underlying discovery which had scrawled itself messily across his muddled brain-

OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO GIVE MY FIRST KISS TO DRACO MALFOY.

But it was too late, Harry could feel Draco's lips brushing coquettishly against his own, the charge of desire that thundered up his arm where the blond's fingers had ghosted over, the gentle volts of ecstasy burning in his blood at this… new experience…

Harry scrunched his eyes shut and pushed his lips out clumsily as he felt a definite wash of red invade his face, and this kiss… this pulse-racing kiss that made adrenaline gush through his body like a roaring waterfall. His brain was failing him now, slowing to a standstill, and Harry could almost smell the thrilling scent of burning hormones-

Sadly, Harry got a bit… too excited and ended up biting Draco's bottom lip.

The Slytherin let out a yelp of discomfort, drawing back from a horrified Harry, who was spewing out countless apologies and wringing his hands anxiously. Burying his head in his hands, the brunette's shoulders sagged in an admission of defeat, expecting Draco to walk away and probably laugh over it with the other Slytherins.

But there were no receding footsteps, or malicious chuckles, or even controlled sniggers.

There was only… silence as Draco remained standing there, infuriatingly silent as a sphinx.

Peeking out cautiously from between his fingers, Harry stared at Draco, whose pale face showed a faintest hint of red. Meeting his eyes with an almost shy, sideways glance, Draco wrapped his hand around Harry's wrist and pulled the other boy closer.

"That was abysmal," Draco started, but there was no mocking tone. "Maybe that means that we should… try again," the blond finished, with an uncharacteristically boyish, turn-me-down-if-you-dare glimmer in his eye. His voice was as intimate as the crisp rustling of sheets, and Harry grinned, blushed and glowed helplessly behind his curtain of fringe.

That was all Harry needed to hear. Splaying his fingers at the back of Draco's neck, Harry closed his eyes, tilting both of their heads as they kissed again. It was like a whole new state of consciousness, the velvety feel of Draco's lips on his own, the lick of Draco's tantalizing tongue against his own was sensory overload, bringing his body to a gentle simmer-

under the water, I can't breathe-

but it feels so good-

Gathering some modicum of courage, Harry's tongue flicked experimentally against Draco's teeth. And as Harry felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into this forbidden pleasure, loving the way Draco's fingers carded through his hair, pressing their torsos together, every move encouraging passion to sneak up on them, sweeping both of them away and down the cliff-

Hesitantly breaking the kiss, Harry withdrew from the other boy and stared at Draco unbelievingly. His mind was finally catching up with his body, causing Harry to be oh-so-confused and unsure, he didn't know what this meant, what any of this meant.

I don't know, I can't, he's not, I mean, but we just-

He remembered Draco as a ferret, the way the blond would flash Harry a small smile whenever Harry had selected the best piece of chicken for him during meals, the way he had helped Harry with his homework, the way Draco would squeal noisily in protest whenever Harry poked friendly fun at him-

And… the way Draco was just Draco.

And then he lifted his gaze and looked at the Draco in front of him, his dancing, bottomless eyes, his gorgeous, full-lipped sensual mouth that he wanted to continue kissing because it tasted so good- Harry raised his fingers to feel the throbbing of his own lips, regretting the way his own heartbeat faltered to a slowing, stuttering stillness, letting Draco bathe his senses, that delicious vanilla scent that wafted around him, that sleek waterfall of blond hair-

Each breath was a swoon, the air around them ripe with promise and possibility, Harry's new-found feelings towards Draco like a small, new leaf unfurling slowly, tenderly within him, almost ready to grow and take root-

Maybe…

Just, maybe…

The blush on Harry's cheeks was deepening in intensity. Bending his head down shyly and looking at his shoes, Harry took Draco's hand and interlaced their fingers together. The words were novel and foreign, his tongue stumbling hopelessly over them, each word feeling clunky in his mouth, but Harry managed to croak them out.

"Would you... would you let me kiss you again?"

/fin

A/N: As promised, a surprisingly light-hearted fic. Of course, things will be very different for my next story. I will attempt to make you cry, but with a smile on your face. /very secret grin.

On a lighter note, Narcotic has garnered 103 favorites, a personal milestone for me. To express my thanks, I'll continue writing H/D to the best of my ability, and I hope that you guys will be there to read my work.