AN: Just trying out a very odd pairing. I'm not sure where this will go. If I don't get very encouraging feedback, I may just scrap this story entirely. But I will post this for now, in case there is any hope. I'm having an awful bout of writer's block with my other fics, which is why I'm generating these random plot bunnies on whim.

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Disclaimer: JKR owns.

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I slink down into my seat at the Slytherin table.

Blaise Zabini nods to me in greeting and I can feel that Draco's hand has already made its way to my thigh. I swat it away sending him a rather sly smirk and he only turns to match mine with one of his own. I grin inwardly. Old habits die hard.

"Oi, Pansy!" Theodore Nott shouts from across the table.

I arch an eyebrow in his direction, setting down the pumpkin juice in my hand as a decorative piece of parchment lands in front of me.

"Some bloody owl mistook Millicent Bulstrode for you this morning," he continued from his seat. I almost snarled aloud at the thought. I spy Millicent turn a rather brilliant shade of red as she almost chokes on a scone half-lodged in her throat.

I send her a sickeningly sweet smile ", OK there, Milli?" I ask stuffing the note into my cloak for a later read.

She nods, hurriedly downing the remains of her pastry. I look up from the Slytherin table, catching sight of the Gryffindors. A pathetic lot, I mused. Granger's hair looked bushier than normal, standing out in all ends. I was surprised that it didn't get into the Weasel's way as he smothered his face with whatever was edible in sight. I sneered; it was almost like he had never seen food before.

I heard Draco chuckle from beside me. "No reason to mar your features, with an expression like that," he murmured, leaning in enough that I could smell the very essence of his choice cologne for the season.

I smirked as my attention refocused on the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter sat surrounded by his friends laughing heartily at someone's joke. I sighed, though begrudgingly so. Even I had to admit that I had a small thing for the famous boy-who-lived. It was all lust that was for sure. I just wished to ravish him for one night. Stare into those emerald green eyes as he whispered sweet nothings to me. It was embarrassing to say the least. If anyone at the Slytherin table ever gained a whiff of my naughty desire, I would surely be dethroned in an instant. I watched as Potter made conversation with little Weaslette who sat beside him at the Gryffindor table. His toned arms shone from beneath the light cotton of his Quidditch Robes. I groaned to myself, I hated teenage hormones.

This time it was Blaise's turn to comment, "If I didn't know you any better Pansy, I'd say you were ogling Potter."

I let out a rather bark-like laughter, scaring a few third years down the table.

"Don't insult me so, Blaise. I was only the watching the brewing of a rather pathetic relationship between Weaslette and Potter."

Daphne Greengrass let out a snort from beside me. "Just look at her, eyeing Potter, it's almost disgusting," she complained while inspecting her newly done nails.

"Of course it is. This is Potter after all," Draco affirmed, his eyes narrowing in disgust. All this talk must have somehow managed to spark some sort of telepathic connection with the Gryffindor, for in that exact moment the Golden Boy decided to grace us with a glance of his own, only to find a gang of Slytherin's staring right back. He looked at me, and I shot him a seductive wink. I watched as he gulped awkwardly, his eyes wide behind those black-rimmed spectacles, his jaw hanging. Draco swiveled his head to look at me. "What did you just do?" he asked, noticing Harry's peculiar choice of expression. "It's not like the boy-who-lived to show such obvious signs of…discomfort."

I shrugged nonchalantly, gathering my stuff to leave.

"Who cares," I retorted with such indifference, that even Salazar Slytherin may have been proud.

Draco nodded, eyeing me in farewell. "See you at the game then, Parkinson," he called after me.

I tilted my head to the side, sending him a sly grin from across my shoulder. "Just make my time well spent," I called back exiting through the double doors of the Great Hall and into the hallway within.

I made my way up to the dungeons and into the girl's dormitory. Pulling out the now crumpled letter from my cloak pocket I noticed it was yet another anonymous note.

The messy scrawl was almost unintelligible; I couldn't even bear to imagine who this person may be.

Can't wait to see you at the game.

Really now? I thought aloud. This admirer was definitely the more demure and daft of its kind. I signed, tossing it into the rubbish bin by my desk and settling on the comforters of my bed.

I gazed outside; it was the perfect day for a game. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, it would be the match of the year.

I could feel my eyes glaze over at the idea of watching Potter fly on his broomstick. I almost let out a girlish shriek at the thought. Perhaps it was the thought of him being so noble and unattainable that made the very sight of Harry Potter so irresistible. But whatever it was, I knew this newfound interest would not be going away any time soon. I had to do something about it. But what? I had no female confidantes to help me sort through such a girlish endeavor. Not to mention all of Slytherin would hate me if they knew my newest eye candy was none other than every Slytherin's archenemy.

I was no idiot, of course I knew all about the upcoming war, of Potter vs. Voldemort, of the Death Eaters and the goody-goody Aurors out to get them. But to be honest, I had no interest in such over-dramatized squabbles. I wished to live a pleasant and at least mildly satisfying life, not to harass my mind with the looming call from those meddling with the dark arts.

I sighed to myself, eyeing the letter now in my waste bin, I small smirk suddenly spread across my face, as I grabbed a blank scrap of parchment from by night stand along with a quill

With looks like those, no Weasley could do you justice. Allow me. I wrote.

Grabbing my wand, I magicked the parchment to wherever dearest Potter maybe residing. I rolled back on to my side, a smile playing on my lips. I just wanted to do him and get it over with. I hated the idea of such a budding infatuation and for a perky little Gryffindor nonetheless. Once I could get this over with, I could dwell in peace and even have a little something to flaunt over the annoying Weaslette.

Only minutes later I received a most amusing reply.

Cho, is that you?

I let out a ringing laugh, this definitely could be fun.

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AN: Please review!